#because every time i see him i get terrible flashbacks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yelenasbraid · 3 months ago

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always a winner — joe burrow

summary — you’re at an away show and can’t make it to the game against the ravens. with the frustration of the loss, joe can’t help but be upset.

warnings — fem!equestrian!reader, major angst, arguments, fluff, sad joe, self-degradation talk

note — look 😭 i’m sorry for the horse lore, i got a bit crazy with it (kind of self indulgent since i used to ride horses lol) but i hope it’s not too crazy for you! if it is sorry in advance!!!

YOU HAD TO BE CAREFUL to not let the silence scare you. the anticipation that sat in the air, eyes moving with the horses in front of them.

horse shows were both quiet and loud at the same time. the rounds themselves were quiet, all attention on the team below them. it was also because anything could spook a horse and derail the entire thing.

you liked the silence. it allowed you to think, to process the steps ahead of you. as you cleared another jump, you were 15 seconds away from snatching first place. as you rounded a corner, pushing your horse towards the final jump, you felt every move you made. your hips flexing, your thighs wrapping around your horse, your hands making room for your horse’s movements as you soared over the last jump.

“with a time of 1.15, y/n l/n snatches the first place slot,” the announcer speaks over the loudspeaker, cheers erupting from the crowd. you pumped your fist in the air, bringing it down to pat your horse. as you galloped around, wearing a bright smile, your thoughts wondered to your boyfriend, who played barely an hour away from where you were.

flashback

“oh, come on, i think you’re being a little dramatic,” you laughed on the phone, packing your riding gear up. joe was in his hotel room, prepping for the game that evening.

“i am not! i feel like a part of me is missing when you’re not here,” joe pouted, and you could hear the pout on the other side of the screen. you didn’t understand why players had to be in hotel rooms even when games were at home, but it was routine. you and joe were used to it.

“i wish i could be there,” you hummed, falling on your back onto your bed. you would leave for your show in about an hour, and by that time, joe would be getting on the field.

“me too, but you’re gonna do great. i want to hear all about it,” he smiled. he needed you there, though. he felt the loss in his chest, the ache of it all spreading across his body.

“oh you are,” you assured him. silence bred between you, unspoken words and topics fizzling into vision.

“on a serious note, joey, no matter what happens out there, i’m proud of you, ok? you’ve come so far, have done so well, and i am so so proud of you,” you reminded him. you knew that this season hasn’t been what joe wanted. the losses, the one win, he needed a win against the ravens.

“thank you, love. that means a lot,” he hummed. you were always in his corner, supporting him in the small and big ways. he just wished you were there.

end of flashback

you walked out, cheeks flushed and a proud smile on your face. a bright, blue ribbon was pinned on your horse’s bridle as you walked out. your coach came up and patted your horse’s neck.

“see what happens when i tell you to trust your gut?” she playfully smacked your thigh, causing you to let out a puff of air.

“yeah yeah,” you joked. your eyes met your friend’s, who came up to you with your phone in hand. you told her to keep tabs on the game for you, even though you’d watch highlights on the way home.

“it’s not good,” she started, which was a terrible start. your smile dropped, your heart rate increased, and the worst case scenarios started bombarding you. was it joe? is he ok? is he hurt? please tell me he’s not hurt.

“what is it?” you asked, dismounting. you held your reins in your hands as you looked at the score. 38-41. you were in disbelief. when you checked before your ride, they were in the lead. a good lead too, what happened?

your friend seemed to read your mind.

“evan missed the kick because the holder slipped his grip on the ball in overtime,” she answered. overtime? they went into overtime? you closed your eyes, pursing your lips. sorrow seeped into the cracks in your chest, bleeding down into your soul. you opened your eyes, fighting the tears that stung you. not here. people are going to ask.

you handed your horse to your coach, taking your phone from your friend. you knew joe was beating himself up. you knew he was going over every play, every single thing that went wrong. you knew that he was angry. he had every right to be. you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was thinking, the defeat, the pain, all of it. he worked so hard to get where he was, and to lose 4 games didn’t prove to the world joe burrow was back. you saw beyond that stat, though. you saw other numbers, like his passing yards exceeded that of mahomes and lamar. you saw his dedication, his work ethic, and his commitment to the sport and his health. you were so beyond proud of him, but you knew that he wasn’t feeling any of that right now.

—

the show packed up from there. horses were loaded, saddles were put away, and you changed into something more comfortable. you sit in the passenger seat of the truck, your coach driving you home. she picked you up, explaining that she didn’t want you to have to drive home.

it was sweet, and it also meant you got to see joe faster.

the truck comes to a stop in your driveway, and you can see lights on in the house. joe was home. of course he was, the game ended around 4 pm, and it was now 6. you gathered your things before stepping out, thanking your coach for the ride. you huffed, walking up to your door, trying to be as quiet as possible.

game day joe was unpredictable. if he won, he was in a great mood, and you usually celebrate in more ways than one. when he lost, he hid himself away, lost himself in film and away from you.

you’ve mentioned it, and he’s worked on it, but it was hard for him to be close to someone else when he didn’t even want to be around himself. you just wanted to be there for him, to hold him and reassure him that he was still good, that you were still proud of him.

you walked in the door, the silence of the house deafening. you softly shut the door, locking it behind you as you walked into your home. it was cozy. blankets were neatly folded across the couch and folded in the basket, pictures hung on the wall, and small items of decor that had joe and y/n etched all over it. it was home, but you couldn’t ignore the forgotten water bottle on the island or the strewn shoes by the door. you flicked your eyes upwards when you heard shifting, signs of life from your boyfriend.

“babe?” you called, slipping off your shoes and neatly placing them by the door. you walked into the kitchen, dropped your bag in order to fill up your water bottle. you heard footsteps, and then descending steps. you turned to see your boyfriend walk into view. he looked exhausted. his face was sullen, eyes void of any light, and his hands hung loosely at his sides. his hair was wet; signs of a shower.

“how was it?” he asked. his voice was hoarse, and if he was honest, he didn’t want to talk. he wanted to be left alone, but at the same time he needed to see you. you weren’t at the game, you didn’t see him after he walked into the tunnel, or after the presser. no matter how often it happened, he was never used to it. why weren’t you there?

“it was good, stayed on and was safe,” you answered. telling him you won first place didn’t seem appropriate, but you knew he’d ask.

“did you place?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. he knew you did, you always did. unlike him, you managed to win at your sport.

“i did,” you started, your eyes flicking over his form. he looked small, and not in the physical sense, in the emotional sense. he barely held eye contact with you, but he was standing there, with you. he looked like a little boy, dressed in a loose fitting black shirt and sweats. his expression was hard, his nose red and cheeks raw.

he nodded and turned away from you, starting back up the stairs.

“joe,” you called after him. his heart jumped in his chest; he didn’t want to talk about it.

“i don’t want to talk, y/n,” he told you, a little harsher than he intended.

“don’t distance yourself from me, please,” you stepped towards him, and he went rigid. you stopped, watching as he turned to face you, his eyes now full of emotions. anger, guilt, sadness.

“you’re telling me that?” he snapped. he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to go there. you didn’t deserve it. you were right, and he begged himself to stop.

“what?” your voice is small, confused.

“you’re the one who told me a week ago she was going to be at the game, you’re the one who spent all of her time at the barn this week, you’re the one who’s avoided me,” everything is crashing down on him, the loss, his failure, his undeniable need for you.

“i don’t go to the barn to avoid you, joey. you know that,” you reminded him, trying to keep some semblance of peace. his emotions were running rampant, and he was trying to control them.

“you’re there for hours, you’re not home when i get home, and i’ve ate dinner by myself for a few days this week,” he feels the familiar sting of tears in his eyes, the clench in his chest. joe knows you’re there for hours, and he’s never voiced having an issue with it. joe knew that he sounded like he didn’t make much sense, but nothing was making sense for him.

“joe, what-”

“you weren’t there! you weren’t there and i needed you there,” his voice raised, standing a few feet in front of you.

“joe, with my schedule and yours i can’t be at every game! i thought we were in agreement with this,” you defended. you watched as his face shattered, the wall coming down, the realization settling in. he thought he’d be winning by now, at least 2-3, but he wasn’t.

“but i needed you,” he whispered, but his anger was still present. he wasn’t angry at you, he didn’t blame you, but his anger at himself manifested into it being towards you. a single tear slipped down his cheek, his eyes red with the threat of more.

the silence between you was poison, seeping into your pores and creating the sour cocktail of anxiety. your eyes never left joe’s body, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the unshed tears, and the shattered look in his eyes.

you should’ve been there.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t there,” you started, fiddling with your fingers. joe shook his head, wiping his eyes and his nose.

“it doesn’t change anything,” he snapped.

“i know it doesn’t, but i can’t control my schedule, just like you can’t,” you told him. he knew you were right. he knew how it worked, yet his emotions betrayed him. that’s not really how it works. she just wants to have an excuse to not see you embarrass yourself.

he looked at you, his eyes puffy and red. his arms ached, desperate to be around you. his heart raced, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. the more he met eyes with you, the more his body relaxed. he swam in your expression, the softness of it but also the sternness of it. you’d defend yourself even if he was being unreasonable. his hands hung at his sides, his chest still tight.

he needed you, and you were here. now.

you gingerly approached him, watching as his head dipped to avoid eye contact with you. his chest heaved, his breaths clawing at his eyes; don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. your hand gently rested on his cheek, guiding him to look at you. his eyes met yours, and his heart lurched. he didn’t want to sob, but he couldn’t help it. a sob escaped his throat, and you pulled him for a hug. you cradled the back of his neck, fingers caressing his skin as he buried his face into your shoulder, tears cascading down his raw cheeks.

joe hated arguing with you. he hated it even more when he was the one to start it. joe knew you worked hard, he knew that your commitment to your sport matched his own, but with how vulnerable he felt, he just needed his safety blanket. he needed you to help put his pieces back together, to remind him of who he was. as his arms held onto you, keeping you close to his body, he felt his breathing settle and his heart rate slow.

after a few moments, joe pulled away, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes. when you first started dating, joe didn’t cry in front of you. he didn’t want you to think he was weak, or that he wasn’t able to handle the load. as time went on, you became the only person besides his parents he’d cry to. he felt safe with you, he felt like he could give you his emotions and you’d take care of them.

your hands cupped his cheeks, one of his hands resting on yours.

“i’m sorry,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. your shoulders sagged, a small smile gracing your lips.

“i forgive you,” you hummed, brushing an escaped tear from his eye.

“i know we’ve talked about it,” he sniffled, “and i have gotten better at letting you in, but it’s not always easy,” he confessed. you knew that, it wasn’t human nature to confess your deepest feelings, even to those closest to you. it was a protective measure.

“it’s not going to be easy, but the important thing is that you try,” you spoke softly, your hands falling from his cheeks.

“i want to win,” he whispered, his eyes glazing over with fresh tears, “i want to win so badly, for the team, for cincinnati, for you,” he continued, his voice breaking.

“and you will, trust me. you will win, even if you’re already a winner in my eyes,” you tagged a lighter tone to your words, which caused joe to break out a small smile. silence fell between you, unspoken words oozing out of joe’s skin.

“i am proud of you, i always will be, but i do want to bring home wins too,” he added. you chuckled, grabbing his hands and rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles.

“who has the trophy in the basement?” you joked, earning a chuckle from joe, “in all seriousness, you are going to bring home wins. we win together, not separately. when you win, i win. we do this together,” you gave his hands a squeeze, earning a bright smile from him. you leaned up and pecked his lips, then his forehead.

“i am proud of you, joe. every step you’ve taken, every yard you’ve thrown, i am beyond proud of you,” your words sunk into his skin, reminding him of who he was. he was joe burrow, joe sheisty, the quarterback that brought the bengals back to life.

“i love you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

“i love you,” you hummed. the warm moment was interrupted by the growling of joe’s stomach. you laughed, jokingly patting his stomach.

“is someone hungry?” you chuckle, pulling your head away from his. he laughed, nodding his head.

“i’ve not eaten dinner yet,” he confessed, earning a smack on the arm.

“joseph lee!” you scolded with a smile, “as much as you speak on eating healthy, you need to practice what you preach,” you teased as you walked into the kitchen. joe followed, watching as you opened the fridge. you had leftovers from the previous night, so you pulled those out.

“i do! most of the time,” he rebutted as he watched you place food on plates. as you stuck one in the oven, he wrapped his arms around you again. he melted into you, all 6’4 of him. you ran your hand down his back, then back up to his hair to run your fingers through his frosted tips. the microwave beeped, separating you two.

“we should watch a movie,” joe suggested as you put the second plate in.

“like old times?” you smiled, remembering the movie nights in college.

“yeah, except i won’t commentate,” he assured you. both of you were bad at it, especially marvel movies, which made it amazing when you two watched movies together. with friends? oh it was terrible.

“i’ll believe that when i see it,” you replied. with your plates of food, you walked over and sat on the couch, turning on a movie. joe sat next to you, leaning his shoulder on you. you didn’t mind how clingy he was, you embraced it. you sat, ate dinner, and watched a movie. a comforting and familiar experience.

with dinner done, plates on the coffee table, the movie still going on, joe nestled himself against your chest. his cheek against your chest, listening to your stead heartbeat, it was putting him to sleep. your hands combing through his hair didn’t help either. joe eventually fell asleep, his face tucked away in your shirt and his arms around you. you kissed the top of his head, a smile on your face.

“sweet dreams, my love,”

rushed ending so sorry about that! i will say though, as work picks up for me i might not be writing as much. there’s also some other stuff going on too so that’s fun 🤪 so i will post when i can! hope you guys enjoy the writing before i get burnt out lol.

tags — @wickedfun9

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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ihavea-natural-curiosity · 2 months ago

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Viktors Disabilities, a Speculative Analysis

Ever since i first watched Arcane i have wanted to know (and i mean this in the nicest way possible,) what was wrong with Viktor. His disability was never explained beyond “he was born with a malformed leg”.

And so, i was left alone in the house with my thoughts today so i took it upon myself to figure it out, (and talk about his medical issues so i can ignore my own lmao) and i am releasing my thoughts upon yall!

(disclaimer: yes i am aware that this arcane is a fantasy world that is not our world and the disorders/illnesses and treatments will not be the same but the issues he has have to be based off of something (especially with how detailed this show is and how many references are made throughout.) this is not me trying to say that he definitively has any of these conditions, i’m just comparing them to conditions that exist today and suggesting what Viktors disabilities may have been based off of.)

(disclaimer pt 2.: i have not played League of Legends, i do not intend to play League of Legends, i have only watched Arcane and i am only talking about Arcane and Arcane lore and what i have been able to figure out from watching Arcane and spinning it around in my brain like it’s in a microwave.)

Now, i think i’ll just start from the beginning, and go in order of development.

1. Viktors Leg

According to the wiki (and about every other site that talks about Viktor) he is said to have been “born with a malformed leg”, and said pretty much nothing else. Now, when Viktor is an adult, his leg appears to be very not-malformed, so, let’s start at the flashback.

Now, even in the flashback Viktors leg looks normal. It’s pointing forward, and looks totally fine. But as the clip goes on, and he gets up and starts moving, the problem becomes apparent. Here’s a clip:

Yall have probably already noticed what i’m talking about with this clip, but i want to illustrate it more because the clip moves so fast:

As Vikto moves faster, his foot shifts inwards! It shifts inwards pretty severely (i mean, he full on trips on it), and the only time in this entire clip where it is doing so. And that is because the other times he is around someone else. I think he is purposefully pointing his foot forward and in turn walking on the wrong part of his foot (balance issues), and more than likely causing himself pain 1. to appear less ‘crippled’ and more “normal” to other people, and 2. because clearly, his foot is pointing inwards to a degree that is impairing his ability to walk.

Now to me, (and i’m not a doctor so if any actual doctors want to call me on incorrect information please do so!) this looks like Femoral Anteversion, or a twisting of the femur that points the knees inward (it’s typically found in both legs but it can happen with just one)

Now this isn’t necessarily a terrible thing, ~10% of children are affected with Femoral Anteversion (or “pigeon toes”), and most of the time it resolves itself, unless it is super severe, at which point it requires surgery to fix it. Which, of course, Viktor did not have access to.

Now, his leg does appear to be normal as an adult, but the femoral anteversion thought is still plausible. There are 3 reasons i can think of for this one.

1. He got to Piltover and after a little bit Heimerdinger noticed how messed up his leg was and Viktor got the surgery to correct it as much as possible (it’s implied that Viktor was in Piltover for years, based on how he acts and the fact that he’s Heimerdingers assistant) (this thought doesn’t seem very plausible to me, i don’t remember seeing any surgery scars on his leg in the hexcore scene, but it is a possibility.)

2. He’s simply just still correcting his leg. The reason we wouldn’t see him mess up like we did in the flashback is that he’s about 24-25 in act one, and i’d say that 14-15 years is probably enough to get used to doing that sort of thing.

3. (Honestly this one seems to be the most plausible to me) His leg has (partially) corrected itself. Most children whose femoral anteversion fixed itself had normal gaits by age 8-10, but that’s an average age and those typically aren’t perfectly accurate to everyone (i have. very personal experience with that.) and it makes the most sense to me that his leg has mostly/partially corrected itself and he’s just also continuing to self-correct to avoid appearing any more disabled than he already does (he shows quite a bit of internalized ableism throughout the season, and his line about people not listening to him because he’s “just a poor cripple from the undercity” really drives it home for me, honestly.)

2. Viktors Deterioration

When we first truly see Viktor in act 1, he seems lively, and unless he’s actively walking, he’s not using his cane, not really (he hangs his cane on his arm to read a book with both hands (really great rep btw, we do in fact do that!), he leans it against a desk to pace in front of a chalkboard with Jayce, he puts it down somewhere to go help Jayce with the experiment, etc.).

I mean, look at his stance, he’s not really leaning on his cane for support, more likely he’s using it for balance, and as an assist to his bad leg, rather than an attempted replacement like we saw in the flashback.

But in act 2? Hoooo boy

Look at that, beyond just looking 10x sicker, look at his posture, his shoulders specifically. He is actively leaning on his crutch (because he needs a crutch now, the cane wasn’t enough), using it like a replacement. Now, over the course of the ~7 year time skip, Viktors condition has deteriorated enough that he 1. needs the braces 2. needs a crutch 3. can no longer even get up without his crutch, let alone take a single step!

i mean, even when he’s sitting down, he’s holding onto it, leaning on it. The way he uses his crutch, how skinny he’s gotten, how much more tired he seems, all of these things say some sort of newfound muscle weakness, but why?

And the braces. Let’s start with the leg brace, since it’s right there. How it’s built around the actual leg and knee looks a whole lot like a much cooler unloader knee brace, or a knee brace that redistributes weight away from the weakened knee. I have to wear one of those when my knee gets really bad in the winter, when it starts buckling randomly and just.. not working. Which makes sense for the muscle atrophy/weakness theory i have, because that leg was already weak to begin with, and his knee would have been all kinds of fucked up if he did spend basically his whole life misaligning it like i’m thinking he did. (and to support that theory even further, the way that the brace goes over his foot as well reminds me of the braces some children wear to attempt to correct their ‘pigeon toes’ (which have been proven not to work, btw)

Now, the back brace. I’m gonna be honest, this part took me the longest, it truly confused me.

When you look at it, it just looks like a thoracic back brace, with some extra support on the hips (once again, pointing to muscle weakness)

But the thing that really confused me?

The screws in his back.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out what procedure this was referencing (Percutaneous Pedicle Screw Fixation (i’m like really sure that the screws aren’t showing in the real life surgery but the fact that they are makes sense with Arcanes style)), and an even more embarrassing amount of time to realize that the golden screws in his brace weren’t connected to him. (i am. very tired.)

But essentially, a Percutaneous Pedicle Screw Fixation is a less invasive spinal fusion procedure. Now a spinal fusion can be done for many, many reasons, but only one really fit.

Support, because of muscle weakness.

Every single thing that got added on to Viktor could be explained by muscle weakness, but there’s never any explained reason why he was so weak all of a sudden. His terminal illness is cited as a reason but that didn’t really make sense to me, all of these procedures, all of these mobility aids made perfectly to his measurements would’ve had to have been caused by something with a much slower onset than the illness would have given him.

And after literal hours of scouring, i have a theory.

Post-Polio Syndrome.

The timeline makes sense, Viktor would have most likely gotten sick before the flashback, when he was a child (a lot of children who get Polio fight it off without even knowing they have it). Viktor is estimated to be about 32 in act 2, and the average time between the initial Polio infection and Post-Polio Syndrome onset is about 20-40 years (inconsistent numbers).

Now some of the symptoms we have no way of knowing if they affect Viktor or not, but the main ones that caught my eye were muscle atrophy, chronic fatigue, and, you guessed it, muscle weakness.

Given where Viktor lived as a child, and how heavily polluted it was (remember that Viktor was in the undercity over 10 years before we saw it in act 1 with Vi and Powders childhood), it’s not too far of a stretch to say that he could have contracted an illness very similar to Polio as a child, and only really be feeling the affects of it now.

3. The Illness

I have 2 main theories for Viktors illness, the first one seems to be the most popular among the fandom: Tuberculosis.

If you’re unaware, Tuberculosis (TB) is a sickness that mainly affects the lungs, with the main symptom being coughing up blood. Now this is a really good theory imo, it fits pretty well, with some of the other symptoms being muscle atrophy, fatigue, malaise (general feeling of discomfort/unease with no discernible reason), loss of appetite, and severe unintentional weight loss. all of this sounds like our guy, no?

TB can take weeks to be symptomatic, so we probably just caught Viktor at the worst time ever lol with this theory.

My other theory is actually one my friend suggested to me, and that theory is COPD.

Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) is a progressive disease that is basically a terrible combination of chronic bronchitis and asthma that can be caused by exposure to pollution (Viktor grew up in the Undercity before Cassandra’s vent system, i mean the river he was playing on had an oil slick on it, i think it’s safe to say he was exposed to some pretty severe pollution as a child.)

This theory makes a lot of sense to me, because it’s said in the show that his illness was probably caused by the air where he grew up, which this would have been, while TB would not. (not 15-20 years later, at least) COPD, once it reaches stage 4 is very severe, any flare up of symptoms could be life threatening at that stage, and the symptoms? Fatigue, shortness of breath, coughing, weight loss, and less frequently, coughing blood.

Anyway, i guess that concludes my analysis/comparison? I’m gonna repeat that i’m not definitively saying that ‘he has this condition and this is why!’, i’m just analyzing and speculating on what different parts of his disability is based on in real life. So, let’s just all be nice, yeah? (also PLEASE feel free to use this as a reference point for modern aus and stuff!!)

i do genuinely think that Viktors disease progression and his deterioration is one of the best examples of chronic illness that i have seen in media, in my experience (both with my own issues and what i’ve seen in other people) and Viktor himself is one of the BEST representations of what it’s like to be young and disabled and the internalized ableism that comes with it (if anyone wants to hear about that i will happily yap your ear off about it!

Anyway, for real this time. Yap session over.

#also i am 100% behind the hc that Jayce designed and built Viktors aids #viktor #viktor arcane #arcane analysis #arcane #arcane theory #media analysis #disabled representation #viktors disability isn’t talked about enough :(#viktor arcane i adore you #AUGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IM SOBBING

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

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I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.

So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.

Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.

Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)

In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.

Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #hillary clinton was right about everything: the redux redux redux

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dragonmuse · 1 year ago

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Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #the strangest message sent #and no idea if it was on purpose #I kind of think it wasn't somehow #but boy howedy did it come across

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thisaccountisagainstmywill · 10 months ago

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BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

#bg3 #bg3 shitpost #shitpost headcanons #astarion #gale #bg3 gale #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart #wyll #bg3 wyll #halsin #minthara #minsc #minsc and boo #boo #bg3 boo #jaheira

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stargirllanaa · 1 year ago

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୨⎯ "Cruel World” - Rafe Cameron

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Noncon smut, toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, Gun violence, Drinking, ex!rafe, Rafe is actually terrible, psycho ex bf Rafe

Summary: loosely, based on ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, everything goes wrong when you spot your psycho ex bf at a New Year’s Eve party.

A/n ✎: Thank you so much for 100 followers! Ahhhh!!!! I’m so glad you guys are enjoying my work, I recommend listening to the song ofc but you don’t have too. Bold and italics are flashback. Enjoy <333

Wc: just under 3k

18+ MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

“Does anyone know where I put my eyeliner?” Your friend Nora asked you, as well as your other friend Violet.

You were all getting ready for some New Year's Eve party at Nora's boyfriend's house; everyone would be home from college for winter break, so you were excited to see all the people you went to high school with.

“No, but I know where the vodka is!” Violet chuckled,

“Come on, let's all take a shot!” Violet continued as she made her way over to you.

“Come on, y/n, are you going to pout all night? He might not even be there.” the brunette expressed as she sat beside you, bottle in hand.

She was referring to your ex, Rafe Cameron, and you knew for almost a fact that he would be there. Nora's boyfriend happened to be his best friend, Topper, and you and Rafe hadn't exactly ended on the best terms. The two of you had been broken up for about a month and a half; for the first two weeks, he would not stop texting and calling you, profusely apologizing, saying things like, ‘I'll go to therapy.’ ‘give me another chance.’ ‘I'll be better.’

It got so annoying that you had to block him; obviously, that wouldn't stop him. The thing was, Rafe was fucking crazy; he would always find a way to get to you, and if he didn't, he simply didn't want to.

“He's going to be there.” You said with a sign, “I'm just going to get fucked up, ignore him, and hopefully get some dick tonight.”

“That's the spirit!” Violet said as you tilted your head back, and she poured the vodka down your throat.

“Are you kidding me?” Your boyfriend asked you in a harsh tone as he stalked toward you.

“What?” you respond as you tried to take a wobbly few steps back.

His eyes narrowed at you, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, aside from the clown makeup,” Rafe said, referring to your red lipstick.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don't like that dress?” Rafe interrogated as he roughly grabbed your waist.

“How many fucking times, y/n?” the blonde shook your body roughly. “For you to get it through your thick fucking skull?”

You were silent, frozen almost; whenever Rafe got violent, you didn't know how to react. You didn't fight; you didn't try to run; you stood wide-eyed in shock because if you did respond the wrong way, you knew it would make things 10x worse than they already were.

“Huh?” He asked you, shaking your body roughly again, waiting for you to respond.

“I- I don't know.” You mumbled weakly.

“You don't know,” he mocked with a dry humorless laugh.

“Go and change. Red looks trashy on you.” He stated before letting go of you with a harsh push into the wall.

All your friends knew that Rafe was bad, but they certainly didn't know how bad he was. You were so good at hiding it, concealer, color corrector, foundation, you name it; if it could cover a bruise, you had it. Every story you told them about your fights with Rafe were very watered down, and because of that, no one knew how truly scared you were to run into Rafe at this party. Not in an ‘Oh, no, my ex!’ way more in a ‘he might kill me way.’ But with every shot you took, you felt your fear start to fade slowly, and when you arrived at the party five shots in, in your little red party dress, you felt way more confident than you should have.

Your arm linked with Violet’s as your friend Nora lost the two of you to find her boyfriend. You and Violet stumbled through the house, passing through groups of people, trying your best to find the drink table.

“By the way, I love your dress,” Violet approved, looking you up and down. “Red is your color.”

“Thank you!” you smiled, taking the compliment to heart; she didn't know just how much that meant to you; you hadn't worn red since Rafe had told you it was ‘trashy’ on you.

“Fuck, is the Britney Smith?” Violet giggled, pointing at the short blonde girl.

“Isnt she pregnant?” you wondered as your eyes fell on the drink table.

“Oh my god, look who's right next to the drinks,” Violet says before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Is that Alex?” you replied, squinting your eyes to get a better look.

Violet nodded in response, eyes wide with excitement.

“Go talk to him!” you smiled at her. “I'll sit right over there,” you said, pointing at the elegant velvet couch.

As you sat on the couch, you couldn't stop thinking about Rafe. Your anxiety slowly started to rise, and you regretted every choice you made up to this point. First of all, you and Rafe had ended on horrible terms; second of all, you came to a party that you knew he would most likely be at, and now you are all alone and a little more drunk than you'd like to be.

You couldn't stop thinking back to that day, your breaking point, the last fight you had with Rafe before you ended things for good.

“Why are you following John B on Instagram?” Your boyfriend asked you as he looked up from his phone.

The question confused you a bit; you honestly didn't even know you were following him in the first place.

“I don't know?” you replied with a shrug. “Probably was an accident; maybe Sarah tagged him in something or-”

“Was it an accident when you smiled at him the other day at the wreck?” he cut you off.

Was he serious right now? John B had waved at you, and you simply smiled in return. You were just being nice; it was nothing more than that.

“Rafe, I-” You were going into very dangerous territory, and you knew that, even though Rafe was physically attractive, he was very insecure, which showed a lot in your relationship.

“If it's another bullshit excuse, I don't want to hear it,” he scolded as he stalked towards you.

He wasn't even giving you the chance to defend yourself, and frankly, it was pissing you off even more than his stupid questions.

“Rafe, I don't even know what you're talking about; I literally-” you plead with your boyfriend, taking a step back for every step he took forward.

“Of course you ‘Dont know,’ you never do.” Rafe hissed at you, moving closer and closer.

“That's what you do; you act all fucking innocent and then sneak around behind my back.” the blonde accused.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” He sneered, backing you against the wall.

That was the final straw; now he was accusing you of cheating from a simple smile and an Instagram follow. I mean, how delusional could he be?

“Are you fucking crazy?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed.

You could tell he was shocked at your response by the way his eyebrows arched upwards slightly, but you could also tell you pissed him off by the way his jaw ticked.

“What did you say to me?” He asked; he heard you loud and clear the first time; he just wanted to see if you had the guts to repeat it.

“Are you fucking crazy? I follow him on Instagram. So what? I can unfollow him if it's a problem.” you argued, shocked that this was even an issue.

Rafe's hand shot forward without warning, delivering a sharp slap to your face. Time momentarily slowed as the impact echoed through the room. As the sting of the slap registered, a deep sadness clouded your features. You hated to say it, but you were used to rafe hurting you.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Rafe asked you. Blue eyes are darker than their everyday shade.

“Huh?” He scoffed, laughing slightly.

“Calling me crazy…talking to me like I'm the one in the wrong?” your boyfriend shouted as he snatched a big chuck of your hair, gripping it tight enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Rafe, I-” you tried to defend yourself as tears clouded your vision.

“No, I'm talking now.” His voice boomed as he screamed in your ear.

Rafe slammed your head against the wall behind you, using your hair as leverage; at this point, your ears were ringing, your head was banging, and you couldn't speak from the pain alone. And Rafe just kept going on and on about how important trust is in a relationship, but how could you even listen when he was gripping your hair so tight? But obviously, Rafe didn't see this as punishment enough because he dragged you by the hair to his closet, and even as he rustled through his sock drawer, clearly looking for something, he didn't once let go of your hair.

“Rafe! Stop-” You were cut off by the feeling of ice gold metal pressed against your temple; you were completely frozen, not knowing what to do; there was no way your boyfriend was pressing a gun against your head over an Instagram follow.

“If you even look at john b again, your fucking dead.” Rafe threatened coldly.

Your heart was racing; Rafe was impulsive knowing him; you could breathe the wrong way, and he would pull the trigger. That didn't stop your breath from fasting and your tears from falling, though.

“You hear me?” he asked, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact.

You didn't say anything; you had been sobbing ever since you felt the metal against your head in the first place.

“Do you hear me?” He shook you, demanding an answer, “I will fucking kill you.”

“Yes!” you cried out, hoping and praying for him to put the gun down and let go of you.

And when you left his house that night, you had never returned. Rafe did have his good moments, but was he worth your life? You broke up with him over text the following day, and you hadn't seen him since.

Since today, as soon as you looked up from your lap, lost in thought, you made eye contact with Rafe. You felt sick when you saw him; you knew he would be here, but you weren't expecting to see him this soon.

You stood up, making your way through the separate groups of people; you needed to find somewhere you could be by yourself because right now, you felt like you might have a panic attack.

“Excuse me,” you repeated over and over as you drunkenly stumbled to the stairs. No one was upstairs, other than maybe a few people hooking up, but other than that, it was pretty empty. You looked for a room, apologizing when you opened the door to see Nora and Topper making out. You stumbled through the halls until you found an empty room, sighing in relief as you closed the door behind you.

Your relief was short-lived because you didn't realize that Rafe was following behind you the entire time, and when he entered the room, you instantly regretted isolating yourself from the rest of the party and your friends.

“No.” you panicked, anxiety rising deep within your stomach.

He was intentionally standing in front of the door. There was no way out.

“Hey, Listen, y/n-,” Rafe said calmly, trying to calm you down.

“No! Get away from me!” you interrupted words slurring, not wanting to hear a thing from him.

You had no desire to speak to Rafe, not after all he had put you through in your relationship, not after you had been in therapy for the past month to heal the pain he had caused you. He wasn't just a regular ex, Rafe was fucking crazy, and you both knew it; you knew he was waiting to see you in person again, probably planning it, planning out exactly how he was going to get you back and what he was going to do if you declined his offer.

“Can you just listen to me!?” he snapped at you, slightly losing his calm demeanor. “I just want to talk-” He said through his teeth, walking over to you and away from the door.

“Well, I don't want to talk!” you barely even knew what you were saying; your head was spinning, and you regretted every shot you had taken earlier.

“So that's how it's gonna be, huh?” Rafe mumbled to himself more than you, fist clenching as he spoke.

As he got closer and closer, the room seemed easier and easier to escape; you knew you couldn't scream for help because of the loud music banging throughout the house; no one would hear you, and you knew you couldn't put up the best fight because you were drunk and Rafe’s also way stronger than you, he had proved this time and time again.

So you took the opportunity to run for the door while you still could. But two steps in, Rafe had already caught you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against his stiff chest.

“I didn't want to make this complicated.” he hissed into your ear. “But come on, y/n, it's almost like you want me to hurt you.”

You thrashed your body, wiggling side to side, trying to escape his grip.

“You’re fucking crazy!” You shouted as you continued to attempt to free yourself.

“Yes! I'm crazy,” Your ex admitted as his grip around you tightened, and his nostrils flared. “I'm crazy for you.” he dug his nails into your side.

“Get off of me!” you cried out, voice raw with emotion.

“You come to my best friend's party wearing the fucking dress I hate! Knowing I'm going to be here!” he criticized, pushing your body towards the bed. “It's almost like you want me to take it off.”

“Rafe, stop, I-” you were cut off by Rafe throwing you on the bed and wrapping his hands around your throat as he hovered over you.

“Shut the fuck up!” He sneered, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“You fucking left me!” His grip got tighter the more he spoke. “Not even a call, but a fucking text.” he scolded. “Do I really mean that little to you?”

You didn't end things the way you did because you didn't care about Rafe; you cared about Rafe so much, more than you ever wanted to, and that hurt; throughout everything he's done to you, all the pain he's caused you, you still cared. You broke up with Rafe over text because you were terrified; he had threatened to kill you over an Instagram follow; you couldn't imagine what he would have done if you dared to break up with him in person.

But you couldn't say any of that because he was choking you so hard that you couldn't breathe, let alone speak; all you could do was hit his hands repeatedly, hoping he would let go.

“You didn't care about my feelings. Why should I care about yours?” He asked you, looking deeply into your bloodshot, teary eyes with his blue angry ones.

Your mind was racing; Rafe was actually going to kill you. You saw this day coming many times throughout your relationship, but you didn't expect it to happen when you guys were finished. You had shared your body, your mind, everything with him, and you had been happy it was over; you finally were starting to feel like yourself again. But now he was going to take that all away from you.

Rafe finally let go when he started to see your eyes roll back as you started to lose consciousness.

You gasped for air in between coughs as you held your throat, desperate to soothe it from the pain he caused with his harsh grip. You had accepted death. You knew exactly who you were dealing with, and the thought of him killing you over a breakup wasn't too far-fetched.

“You have a lot of making-up to do after the stunt you pulled last month,” Rafe sighed as if he was inconvenienced by what he was doing to you.

The stunt you pulled? Your break up was serious, and for a good reason; he was lucky you hadn't called the police; if anyone had pulled a ‘stunt,’ it was him. He had pulled a series of stunts throughout your whole relationship. He was pulling one now.

Before you knew it, Rafe was tugging at your dress, attempting to pull it off you. If there was one thing you weren't doing, it was going down without a fight. You tried your best to kick him and scratch him, everything, but you were drunk, had just been choked, and Rafe was much stronger than you, so he pinned your wrist above your head with one hand and pulled the bottom of your dress up with the other.

“Remember this, y/n,” He said as he positioned himself up against your cunt. “Remember this feeling the next time you think about trying to leave.” He taunted before pushing into you roughly.

As he thrusted into you repeatedly at a rough and harsh pace, you sobbed. You thought Rafe was behind you; you told yourself you would never let a man hurt you the way he did again. You were so happy when he was gone.

“Fuck, take this off,” Rafe moaned as he pulled your dress over your head.

With every hash thrust, your cries got louder. Rafe didn't care about your pleasure or even his; he wanted to hurt you; he wanted to see your tear-stained face. This was your punishment, and he was succeeding. The only thing you felt between your legs was severe pain.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” you heard everyone downstairs scream in unison.

“Happy New Year,” Rafe smirked as he pulled you in for a rough, sloppy kiss.

Rafe was fucking crazy.

#dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark rafe cameron #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks #dark!rafe x reader #dark!fic

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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 7 months ago

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So, I’d initially made a post that said something along the lines of “it’s weird that they had Stolas say this”—

“Only to remind the audience like 9 min later of a specific time where Stolas talked down to Blitzø”

And I also included the original scene for context/comparison:

But after posting someone DID point out that in the song’s lyrics during that sequence, Stolas was questioning his past choices and coming to the realization that his actions had affected Blitz—They stated that initial scene of him saying he doesn’t look down on Blitz was a set up for this later self-reflection on his behavior in “All 2 U”, and potentially realizing how harmful his actions have been.

And I think this is a very fair interpretation and observation—as well as something I missed, and that’s on me.

I like talking about these things openly, because I think it is really nice to get other people’s perspectives and interpretations of stuff like this, and I’m also susceptible to missing things on a watch-through.

I decided to delete the original post, b/c I realized I agreed partially with their assessment of the scene, and because there was another comment that was a little spicier, and I didn’t want people to start arguing back in forth in the comments. That’s happened before and it’s always kind of annoying.

With all of that said, I do still think those lines were a weird choice, and I want to go over why the song “All 2 U” fell really flat to me in regards to Stolas’ self reflection. (More below + TLDR @ the end)

There is, so far, a really consistent pattern in Helluva Boss’ writing, where every time Stolas comes close to reflecting on the way his actions could have negatively affected Blitz, the focus almost immediately shifts back to Stolas’ own feelings and situation.

It’s kind of become the status-quo for HB—Stolas will have a brief moment of questioning himself, before the story continues to frame Blitzø as being in the wrong.

We see this really blatantly in “All 2 U”—where anytime Stolas DOES begin to question his own actions, Verosika and Vortex chime in and immediately assure him that it’s Blitz who’s in the wrong:

And then even after, these lines where he questions himself further

The song just CONTINUES to focus only on Stolas’ feelings, and prioritize them above all else. He has a brief moment where he wonders if he’s in the wrong, before brushing those concerns away and continuing to refer to Blitz as “the motherfucker”.

The montage during this also goes to great lengths to show how regretful Blitzø is hearing all of this.

He feels terrible that Stolas is hurt—even though Blitz does NOT owe Stolas anything. You can disagree with me, but based on the arrangement that STOLAS created, their relationship is entirely transactional (and coercive, but I don’t have time to get into that mess right now).

Blitzø is in no way obligated to treat their “relationship” as something that holds meaning because of this—if Stolas is hurt by Blitz’s not reciprocating his feelings, that is ENTIRELY on Stolas. Blitz has not wronged Stolas in any way by not reciprocating those feelings.

But it’s so very clear that the WHOLE PURPOSE of this song—and this entire episode, even if there is a moment where Stolas questions himself—is to portray Blitz as the one in the wrong.

Even in the scene where Stolas questions what he’s done to Blitz and wonders if he’s in the wrong, his flashbacks include these scenes, which are framed as Blitzø being uncaring/blowing Stolas off after their arrangement:

This is probably one of my biggest issues with Stolitz as a ship, and with Stolas as a character. That the writing explicitly caters to Stolas’ feelings and beliefs, and (so far) refuses to hold him accountable for anything he does that negatively affects others. His actions have consequences just as much as Blitz’s do, but the narrative constantly frames him as being a victim.

You can say that both characters are in the wrong all you want, you can say to the audience point blank “this is what I intended with this scene”, but you still have to actually. write. the developing relationships and action of the story. Telling the audience about development after the fact is just poor storytelling.

I’ve already gone over how the narrative rarely holds Stolas accountable in the conflicts he has with Octavia, but it’s very much the same with Blitzø.

So much so that Autistic Swag on YouTube was able to make a Stolas Hypocrisy compilation video:

youtube

And because I know there’s a chance of people reacting to my criticisms this way, no, recognizing a character’s hypocrisy in the narrative is not “media illiteracy”.

Media analysis is still derived from the actual text of the story. I see fans (not just of HB, this is a general problem in a lot of fandom spaces) making wild leaps and jumps about story’s character developments, world building, plot-points, etc. and then claim that people who disagree with their interpretations are “media illiterate” and like.

Those are headcanons. Those are just personal headcanons that you made based on what you wanted to happen in the story.

Which is fine!!! Which is something that is very fun to do!!! I do it a lot actually!

Like, I could say that the green light in “The Great Gatsby” actually represents envy and that Gatsby is always staring at it because he’s actually jealous of Daisy and wants to transition from male to female and live as a transgender woman.

And that would be a really interesting concept to explore! But it would also be a headcanon because in the context of how the text is written, is clearly not the case.

Pointing out that Stolas’ actions are morally dubious at best, and that he is flawed and has done wrong and has very clearly hurt Blitzø by coercing him into a sexual relationship so Blitz can keep his livelihood isn’t media illiteracy. It’s literally. It’s just the text. Audiences aren’t media-illiterate for seeing that.

Final note time— I want this post to age poorly. I want so badly for there to be a future episode where Stolas is really truly held accountable for the ways in which he has hurt Blitzø, the ways in which he’s been classist and racist toward imps, the times that he’s neglected Octavia, and yes! Even for cheating on Stella!!

And I want this NOT because I want to see Stolas completely villainized or beat down, I want this because I want Stolas to develop and grow and change as a character. I want Stolas to actually have the nuance that the writers say he has!!

Again, as always, please know that if you love Stolas and Stolitz that I am REALLY not trying to rain on your parade. I’m not trying to convince you that you’re not allowed to like the story as is, or that your opinions are wrong. That would be really silly. You are allowed to interpret all of this literally however you want, even if we disagree.

The only, only thing I would ask you to please consider, is if you are doing the work of writing these characters development outside of the story, or are you building on what the writers have already shown you. I am not asking this to be condescending or elitist.

This is something I have to actively ask myself when reading and analyzing text and stories, and when analyzing and editing my own writing and work.

That’s all. Thanks for making it to the end of this long ass post. If you’d like to have a polite discussion about your thoughts on all of this I would genuinely like to hear it. I will delete any arguments or fights in the comments tho. Thanks again.

——————————

TLDR:

-“All 2 U” falls very flat as a song where Stolas re-examines his actions because even tho this self-reflection is set up, nothing ultimately comes of it and things immediately go back to the status quo

-This is a very consistent pattern with Stolas as a character, due to this he is severely under-developed, and feels like a completely different character from his season 1 appearances.

-People realizing that he has not had active development between seasons 1 and 2 and pointing that out is not “media illiteracy”.

-Final side note—I think the “both sides are wrong/fucked up” angle really COULD have worked, if after the bridge where Stolas questions his actions, he acknowledged that HE was also “a motherfucker”. But. Nah. Oh well.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #stolitz critical #hb critical #stolas critical #(uh I guess…it’s writing criticism of how Stolas is written he’s not like..a real person)#funhouse convo #media criticism #media critique #long post

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eempxth · 7 months ago

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The Great War - Taylor Swift.

a bakugou katsuki x reader oneshot

angst/slight comfort at the end.

not proofread, 904 words

this is the first time im writing again! sorry guys DD:

The war was something everyone wanted to forget. The devastation, loss, grief, destruction, and desperation was something that was better off kept deep in the back of the mind. Many were still on the grueling process of moving on from the whole ordeal. You were one of them. As an empath, you deeply felt everyone’s emotions just from the looks on their faces. Their losses were your losses too. Looking at your classmates’ bruised and bleeding bodies, people who lost their loved ones, the damage it did to the country, you wished, with all your soul, that the war didn’t have to happen.

Your physical body was painful as well. It was hell. Feeling muscles you never knew torn, bones cracked or broken. Everything was sore.

It was all the same for Katsuki. He doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper night’s sleep in months. He kept getting flashbacks on what happened, how his injuries hurt, but didn’t hinder him from defeating all for one. How he was thankful that pro hero Edgeshot basically brought him back to life, how he heard that that damn Icyhot beat his brother, and you. How you were there with him every step of the way.

***

Class 1A was tense, and of course they were. Gearing up, they didn’t know whether they were going to survive or not. Due to shortage of heroes, mere students were forced to fight alongside the veterans, needing all the manpower they could get. They trusted the plan, of course. But alongside the doom, there was a spark of determination to win.

“Katsuki?”

A grunt came in response, a sign permitting you to continue.

“I vow, I will always be yours, if we survive this.”

His eyes widened, his cheeks turned slightly red, it was barely there, but his overall expression was unreadable. You turned away, scared he might turn you down for some reason. Almost taking a step to walk away, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, a nose nuzzling the side of your neck.

“Fucking dumbass, saying shit like that. I will be all yours too. If we survive.”

Katsuki felt a faint giggle vibrating your body.

You, of course, were grouped with Katsuki and Izuku, tasked with tiring down Tomura Shigaraki. It went terribly wrong from the start, since Izuku wasn’t there, as he was meant to be. You felt it all throughout the fight, but whenever your muscles were tiring, your mentality fading, all you had to do was look at Katsuki.

You admired him ever since his character development started showing, and you made that pretty clear. He respected your strength as well, secretly grateful you were there with him.

But then he got injured. You pushed, overused your quirk, fought until you felt you would puke your organs out, felt your body would suddenly drop to the floor. Because he was doing the same thing. Your heart dropped seeing him fall on the floor. You sprinted towards him, dragged his body to a safe place until Izuku showed up. An attack made its way toward you, and you pushed Katsuki aside, and crimson red blood spewed out of you. His eyes widened, oh, you didn’t expect him to still be conscious.

After Edgeshot’s miracle, you both pushed your limit, your bodies almost moving on autopilot, with a mantra in your head. Defeat Shigaraki. Both of you slumped the ground eventually, with exhaustion and relief, as Izuku delivered the final blow.

Your body was calling, lulling you to sleep, as your vision wavered. Katsuki seemed to be experiencing the same thing, a decent distance from you. Using all your remaining strength, you forced your body, one last time, to crawl to him, touch him, hold his hand.

Once he realized what you were doing, he too, wanted to meet you in the middle. Both of you, crawling on the harsh, battered ground, desperate for the last piece of comfort and security. All the blood doesn’t matter. It was you. No one else.

Reaching for his hand, and him reaching for yours. That was all you remember before your vision blacked out.

At the back of UA, a memory garden was built. Columns of names on concrete walls were written, to remember the death, tragedy, and to remember the lives of these people. Heroes were given special mention. Walking around the garden, everything was silent. Not a word was spoken by either of you. Even if several months had already passed, the huge wound was yet to heal.

To your surprise, Katsuki was the first to break the silence.

“Oi.”

You whipped your head to face him, a tired, curious look on your face.

“Do you remember our promise?"

Confused, you ask. “What promise?”

“Agh, I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t fuckin remember. You were the one who started it.”

He went silent for a moment, as if thinking how to say it.

“I vowed, I would always be yours, if we survived the great war.”

He reached down to a bush, picked out a poppy, and placed it in your hair. His calloused fingertips so light, gentle, barely ghosting the surface of your head. A calm smile appeared on your face. A gentle grin appeared on his. You nodded, and echoed it.

“I vowed I will always be yours.”

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #mha spoilers #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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somewhereincairparavel · 8 months ago

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I think the reason Rick fumbled with writing Jason's abilities/personality is because he was too focused on Jason existing as Percy's rival to focus on Jason as an individual character. And the funniest thing is, in the end, Jason was not considered satisfactory rival to Percy by the fandom either, which is ironic since that was the whole point of his character.

Rick seemingly screwed up the whole rivalry thing because, though he wanted someone to challenge Percy's power, he didn't want that person (Jason) to be more powerful than Percy or more enjoyable than Percy either, in the fear that the audience might start enjoying Jason more.

When you write a rival, you have to make sure that the rival character has equally powerful personality and strength/abilities compared to the person that they're rivalled with.

But Rick? The way he wrote Jason was like a half done updo. He dumped all the cool power on Percy (like potentially implying that Percy has bloodbending,can control water inside of someone, making sure Percy wins ALMOST every fight (and i mean, almost, there is a very rare time Percy ever loses) while limiting his power with Jason in every way possible, making the stupid brick jokes to make sure Jason always passes out in a fight, the whole "I only get one lighting bolt a day from my father" (it's a dumbass logic too, Jason should've been able to summon that much power of lighting on his own, he does NOT need his dad for that shit c'mon now) like it's an obvious effort to make jason appear weaker. Rick did all of this while lazily trying to shoehorn Jason's achievements in the plot by implying it but not actually showing it, like a "yeah he did this cool shit once ig" which makes it less impressive compared to Percy's achievements, which is something we've actually witnessed firsthand. Rick intentionally never brought up or expanded upon Jason's achievements much. He only emphasized everyone's awe of him being the son of Jupiter, which made it seem like Jason had the 'big three child privilege' where people didn't give a fuck about his efforts but instead his position.

Alright Rick, don't give him power, but atleast give him a personality? Nope he isn't getting that either. Jason had the potential to make DARK jokes about his controlled millitary life in Rome, and explore his past. Like I badly wanted a passage of Jason getting his memories back in fragments, Rick could've added flashbacks of Jason's past in his pov in a way that he gets his memories back. Instead he went "yeah yeah jason got all his memories back, it's all good" like SHOW us that wtf?? sure let's make sure he's as stale as possible to the audience, we can't have anyone liking the underdog over Percy Jackson!

He also made sure that Jason had it super hard in life aswell but never emphasized it or gave him anything good compared to Percy.

Don't get me wrong, percy definitely had it rlly hard, but Atleast Rick made sure Percy had a loving mom and a stepdad, a loving girlfriend and a cute adorable sister that he could play and spend time with, he got to celebrate birthdays with Sally, he got to eat her tasty blue food, and he actually had an ambrosia taste. You mean to tell me that Jason's sister barely had time for him, that he hasn't had a single birthday and that ambrosia tastes like sawdust for him while you give the other members of the seven, delicious ambrosia taste? 😤

Jason Grace has gotten the worst life in his own story, he wasn't "powerful" enough for a child of Zeus, he was "boring" , nobody properly trusted him, he died painfully, he didn't have parents, he barely talked to his sister, he didn't have a childhood, he was abandoned to blood thirsty animals when he was TWO, he didn't have a birthday, he didn't have an ambrosia taste, his girlfriend dumped him, he never got to see his best friend before he died, and he is terribly hated by the fandom who are simply turning a blind eye to his struggles because "no Percy will always be better in every way" yeah. I could go on and on.

#Rick Riordan I actually like your work okay? But why.#You fumbled jason in every way ever #But don't think I'll stop loving Jason. ha #Jokes on the people who think I'll find jason 'boring' NOPE not happening buddy #Jason is my top favourite Hoo character apart from Percy and Annabeth and nobody's going to bully me into changing it lol #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo series #jason grace #pjo hoo #pjo hoo toa #piper mclean #leo valdez #annabeth chase #frank zhang #hazel levesque #reyna avila ramirez arellano

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li-an-nie · 5 months ago

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Blue Lock Headcanoas!!

mainly complementary for my ao3 Bastard Truth, but also just thought of them on the way

in no particular order

Hiori:

he’s a lot harsher and more honest/crude with his roommates Isagi, Kurona and Yukimura than with others

usually very nice and sweet to strangers and new friends, as we can see with his first meeting with Isagi and Nanase, obviously on the soccer field he’s more aggressive, but now that he has found his true purpose and he has gotten comfortable with his friend group, he lets himself much more loose

we’ve already seen that in the manga but he loves talking in gaming terms because our boy is a certified g a m e r

Kurona:

falls asleep like a statue with his face to the ceiling, but after falling asleep he will move around a LOT, even accidentally waking himself up sometimes lmao (already mentioned that)

there was one time where he woke everyone up by pushing a lamp down the table, that’s how everyone ended up knowing

no confirmed family, but I like to imagine he has sisters that used to play with his hair (and he also likes to play with his hair since he was small). So they would always end up making braids into it, and he picked up that habit as well

he’s a simple soul but cares a great deal about his friends, and can pick up on small social cues, not as well as Hiori who does it with his analytical mind, but Kurona does it by intuition and it works really well sometimes (sometimes not so)

every joke that comes from his mouth is also a genuine question

in another universe, he would be my cute little pet shark, accompanying me on my daily morning seafish massacres

Yukimura:

Kaiser:

mentally unstable, sometimes has suicidal thoughts, but strongly suppresses them

takes different medication to function, from mood stabilizers to sleeping pills

if he doesn’t take sleeping pills, he can’t fall asleep as he will just keep repeating his ptsd flashbacks in his head

he doesn’t really like sleeping on the soft mattress that he gets in hotels or initially in the Blue Lock facility, will sometimes end up sleeping on the floor, but he complained about it to Ego and he made him a custom mattress

very tech-inept (usually that’s a fun character quirk, in this case not so much…)

can use basic features of a phone, knows what social media is but barely uses it outside of interviews

likes to read after he learned reading (confirmed canon)

he sometimes thinks about his mom… once in a year maybe. But when he does, he’ll think about her a lot. Every possible scenario. Every what-if. Until he represses all his thoughts for another year

his eyeliner is not just for show. it partly is, but it’s also yet another thing to set himself apart from his dad

he has terrible handwriting, but he has perfected his autograph to a T and it looks so elegant and beautiful you wouldn’t even fathom that his usual writing looks like doctors’ notes

his parents met at the Berlinale

Isagi:

he really wasn’t trying to hide his injuries very much because when it comes to things outside his expertise, which is soccer and keeping his schedule, he tends to be a bit klutzy

yes, he has metavision and it helps him outside of the soccer field as well, but that’s more for short-term unexpected scenarios

spoiler

Also I was recently looking at Isagi’s profile again and his strengths/weaknesses are very relatable lmao

Strengths: Finding the good in others.

Weakness: Looking too much at other’s expressions.

Tell me that's not a good boy who truly cares about others??? (and then on the soccer field he won't give a f* lmao)

Noa:

he’s French, but his personality is so stereotypically German omg, according to his wiki he’s been like that since small but I like to imagine that he picked up some habits from his German colleagues

this is fun because now I can imagine all the German stereotypes on him lmao

he doesn’t like being late and he hates it when others are late

he has no sense of humour

he wears socks under sandals

at the beach he reserves seats by putting a towel on them (it’s not part of the rules, but at the beach there are no rules)

he doesn’t necessarily like Japanese polite nature, but he acknowledges its strengths (which is why he was even more surprised when he met Ego with his very untypical crude nature)