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clownkiwi · 11 months ago

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genuinely hate the way heaven and hell is set up in hazbin like. in all honesty. whats the point of using the dantes inferno layers of hell if you are only allowed to use the pride layer. for every sinner. why the fuck would that make sense. like. a serial killer would be in the like. idfk wrath or lust (bloodlust) layer. dantes inferno isnt even fucking canonical to the bible.

the angel designs are flat, their movements feel stilted to me, all the humans in heaven just have a color swapped monster design just like the sinners.

and no fucking shit people think alastar is fucking white, you only find out that he mixed race from somewhere else. i only found out through my friend that the guy is half black because he saw a video or something of her drawing alaster in his human form (this sounds aggressive, but i am not doing that towards you this is in total agreement wirh you)

also i think adam as an angel is stupid as shit from like the standpoint of someone who is interested in the bible in the way greek myth isnt "canonical"/is separate from greek gods

the designs look like theyre still a fucking pain to animate, and i do genuinely like a lot of the designs, i think angel dust is iconic and uh. the bat cat guy looks pretty cool, i think theyre more for like. comic books.

story feels flat and rushed, and very much like i'm watching a childrens show for adults, and i fucking hate adult shows that think putting sex, seears, blood and gore in their product is soooooo fucking mature and cool of them and its just boring and samey and it fucking sucks. if hazbin was nade by someone else i'm sufe the peoduct wouldve been handled so much better and treated the audience like adults

LITERALLY THIS THIS THIS!!!!

for the first part, of the lore. the lore gets so much more fucking confusing and lamer if you watch the spinoff helluva boss. they go into more detail & spend more time in the other layers for each episode, but theyre all so lame and predictable. the lust layer is pink and full of clubs & bars because. romance??? the greed layer is green and pretty much chicago, especially with the demon mobs (demon mobs Should sound more fun). the wrath ring is red/orange and like The Middle Western Desert that literally takes place during the Wild West from USAmerica. LIKE they made dantes inferno LAME!!! wheres the imagination??? was the best you could come up with for greed "chicago" and wrath "the wild west"???? come on

and the way heaven and hell are addressed is so much more confusing. like. the angels have a Moral code Not To Kill, even if theyre demons (in the episode the angel opposite of IMP are focused on, they lose their jobs when they indirectly kill a guy they weren't supposed to kill), which comes into direct conflict with what the angels Were ALREADY DOING IN HAZBIN???

itd be one thing if they were taking place apart from each other in the timeline, and we don't really know that ATM, but they're supposed to take place in the same universe, so they never really seem to make up their minds on what they wanna do with that???

AND LIKE the core concept of hazbin hotel is broken from the very worldbuilding the show is built on. no demon would ever wanna work on redeeming themselves by just going to a hotel, and even in cases when they do, its really just to sabotage each other, before they solve their problems like. my fucking little pony. i cant believe this was a show made for the same target group as bojack horseman or moral orel, it makes me sick

and this idea isnt broken either!!! it can work!!! the good place worked and improved on this idea In Strides and did it with much more maturity and respect for its audience than vivziepop could even do for two of her shows

like hazbin hotel & helluva boss could be improved upon, they just need Better Writers and a Stronger Vision for where the story could go. im not even being a hater Just Because (altho i am), i'm just really upset that this was the direction the show is seemingly going to with no stop. ive seen people that have looked up to vivziepop as inspiration and felt deeply betrayed when the story was shit, when the writing was horrible, its really disappointing to see. i think the only people left watching this are people who think what vivziepop is doing is good, even if she spends more than half her time online looking up her shows to try to fight back against any and all criticism

#ruby answers tag #max i 100% agree with you on all your points #this is something ive been thinking about making a video about forever #how were such horrible pilots so highly praised before the show even came out. howd vivziepop get on tv with hazbin hotel???#i really wanna do a video on this so badly not even in a cringe way but in an interest way... because this is So interesting...!#anyways sorry for the long post. i am angry with you i hate vivziepop 4ever...#flowerkidlove #long post (?)#hazbin hotel cw #helluva boss cw

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ne-umeyu-tancevat · 1 year ago

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Picnic date with Norman Bates <3

for @perfectlullabies and @littlegreenfag

The day was hotter than expected when you first planned this little outing. The fine, hot Californian sun beat down overhead, and though you were in the lightest and airiest linen you owned you were sweating beneath your sunhat, underneath the unrelenting weight of the sun’s rays, making as if to press you into the earth and bake you dead where you lay. Norman, however, walked light and easy as you both trekked through the landscape, hills and farmland, completely unbothered, his face and arms already nicely browned though summer was just at its start. You were the one who knew where you were both going but he, on his long legs, almost left you trailing behind, even as he carried with him the picnic basket you’d packed.

It wasn’t that long of a walk to the spot you found, though it was made long by the heat. You were huffing and puffing and suffering as you crossed the last stretch, coming over the apex of the last hill.

“There!” You pointed ahead. “Oh my god, I thought we’d never reach it!” In the little valley between hills was an old tree with sprawling wide branches, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers in midsummer explosion, a veritable oasis amid a sea of food monocrops. You both paused for a moment, you caught your breath as he stared down at the sight before him.

“Wow! How beautiful!” He turned back and smiled at you, more dazzling than the sun. “I-I-I never even thought there would be a place like this so close to my front door!” He glanced at his watch. “Barely twenty minutes, it’s not even 2:30 yet!”

“Twenty minutes?! I thought it was like, an hour,” you fanned your face with your open hand. “I thought we were lost!”

He laughed and, looking down at the steep decline in front of you, tentatively offered his hand. “Shall we? I’m hungry from all that walking…” You smiled up at him and put your hand in his, it was big and warm and his skin was soft, and your heart thudded in your chest. Hand in hand you carefully descended into the valley, wading amongst the flora until you came upon a perfect little clearing in the shade of the great old tree. It was already noticeably cooler.

He set down the picnic basket at your feet, and you spun around, taking it all in, the rustling grass and leaves overhead, the bright and shining green hills standing all around you. “Isn’t it just lovely down here?”

He was standing with his hands held loosely in front of him at waist height, he brought them together and interlocked them nervously as he looked at you. “Y-Yeah… it is.” he breathed out, smiling as he quickly nodded.

You crouched down and opened the basket at your feet, taking the folded blanket from the top. “Here, help me spread it out!” You took the loose corner and the whole wide surface spilled free. He bent down and took the other end, finding the adjacent corners and spreading it out wide as you both stepped apart, moved to find the perfect spot and bent down to smooth the blanket of any bothersome folds. “Alright, now sit down!” You told him, and went over to retrieve the basket, kneeling down opposite to him as you flipped open the lid, setting aside the plates, cutlery, and glasses. “Okay… are you ready to see what I have prepared for us today?” You said with a flourish of the hand, grinning.

“Oh yes, I’m ready!” He nodded eagerly, sitting criss crossed in front of you, looking so sweet and patient.

“I tried to make things I think you would like…” You said, and now you were a little nervous, but you listed them out as you took each container and set them aside neatly on the blanket: an assortment of cured meats and nice cheeses sliced thin, cut fresh fruit, salad with fresh greens and vinaigrette dressing, and an assortment of sandwiches cut into quarters, light cucumber sandwiches with cream cheese, egg salad sandwiches, cold cuts with lettuce and tomato. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you brought out the last thing in the basket: a tall bottle of red wine.

His eyebrows raised, his mouth parted as he mouthed “wow” and then smiled again. “Wine! I’ll admit, I don’t really drink…”

You felt a little anxious and sheepish in the assumption you made in bringing it, you clutched the bottle in your hands and moved to put it back in the basket. “Oh! Well, that’s perfectly alright you know, i-if you don’t want to then we won’t open it!”

“No, no, I mean - What I mean is, I’ve never really… drank alcohol before. Mother would never approve…” He laughed nervously, his eyes flitted to the ground for a second and he paused, thinking. “But I’ll have some today, if you brought it!”

“Well, alright then! You can at least try it, here,” you reached over and took the two glasses, setting them in front of you before you fished the corkscrew out of the basket, screwing it into the top until the two levers on either side were raised, and pushed them down, wiggling until you released the stopper with a distinctive POP! You smiled, smelling the sweet and astringent aroma from the opening, and poured a roughly equal amount into the two glasses before handing one off to him.

You sipped and watched eagerly as he sniffed at the rim of the glass and quirked an eyebrow. Then, tentatively, he brought it to his lips, and drank deeply, deeper than you expected, and your eyes went wide, eyebrows coming together in astonishment. “Okay, well, don’t go too wild with it,” you started, then watched the journey of conflicting emotions play across his face, unable to escape but to either swallow the mouthful of wine or to spit it back into the glass, and you almost thought he would, until at last he tilted his head back and swallowed with some effort, gasping for breath, he coughed and made a face.

“Well, Norman, how was it?”

“It’s good, not bad,” he choked out, looking and sounding pained. “It’s sweet! But I wasn’t expecting the way it would taste so strongly!”

“Well, you also knocked back half the glass in one go, silly. You’re supposed to sip it,” you smiled affectionately and pointed at him: “Unless you wanna get really drunk really fast!” You laughed again.

“It feels… It’s really warm in my stomach.”

“Well, here then, you’ll need to have some food too,” you reached over and took the plates and cutlery, set one of each in front of him and then yourself. “Let’s eat!”

He reached over and matched a translucent-thin slice of prosciutto to a piece of provolone and ate it in one bite. Plate in hand, you took a sandwich and an assortment of fruit. Norman, holding the salad bowl with a serving on his plate in front of him, held it to you in offering, and you lifted your plate closer as he spooned a good helping over, smiling kindly in a way that made your heart throb. And then, satisfied, you both started to eat.

Partway through your first plates, with his glass empty and his face pink, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, Norman looked up and said, breaking the silence: “You know, I really love sharing meals with people.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” He paused, gathering his words. “I started cooking all by myself fairly young! It was pretty much the only thing I could do well that would make my mother happy.” He said this humorously, but it left a sour feeling in your heart that you pushed down, away from your face. “I think people are just happier when they’re eating…” He giggled, lifting his shoulders.

“Well I hope, I really hope we get to share a lot more meals together, Norman,” you smiled warmly at him. “I’m pretty happy right now!” You reached over, placing your palm over top of his hand for a moment before you pulled away.

You talked as you ate your fill, and as the bottle grew emptier, about books, about art, and movies (you told him about movies, Norman didn’t go to the theater at all), about your hobbies and the places you’ve traveled to in your life, and about the many kinds of people he’s seen check into his motel, and the funny things they sometimes left behind. When most of the food was gone, you picked at the remaining charcuterie, and there was a weighty sort of momentum to your movements, a spinning sensation you hadn’t quite noticed in your reverie that proved you were more than a little tipsy, sun-drunk and wine-drunk and love-drunk too, and so very happy. Full, you lapsed into silence, a silence that was comfortable. The sun had moved, uncovering the half of the picnic blanket that Norman was sitting on from shadow, and he laid back to rest in the warmth, closing his eyes against the mid afternoon rays, and looked more content than you had ever seen him before.

You moved the empty plates and containers back into the basket to make room, and then sat just looking at him, taking him in as much as you possibly wanted, that he wasn’t looking at you all the same, making you nervous under his gaze. His lithe body looked so relaxed with his hands interlocked and resting on his stomach - he was always so tense! His dark hair, wonderful thick brows and dark lashes, his exquisitely structured face, straight nose, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. The mole on his upper lip, and oh, oh the lips themselves, that you had imagined kissing so much. Well, now you were a little anxious, and there was the strange notion that he might even read your thoughts, know your desires from the intensity of them alone. You moved to lie down next to him so that you didn’t have to look anymore, that you only had to enjoy his presence in the sun, in the heat, with the rustling of grass, magenta and yellow fireworks exploding on the tops of leafy wild plants, the buzzing of insects, butterflies drifting from flower to flower and crickets calling out for mates amongst the thicket.

But your mind was still in the orbit of kissing, thinking of how much you wanted to kiss him and how easy it would be to just kiss him. It was your third date, and that was appropriate, right? Really, you’d wanted to kiss him almost from the first moment you saw him. He was exceedingly skittish when it came to these things, the physical intimacy, he was already practically shaking the first time you held his hand. You would have to ease into it…

You sat upright, and twisted yourself to look at him, still lying with his eyes closed, and asked: “Norman, have you ever kissed anyone before?” …Regretting it immediately as tension filled his whole figure, was it too quick, too forceful? And you knew he probably would have never kissed anyone before anyways. What is wrong with me? The wine, it’s the wine making me so bold… Your gut cringed as his eyes shot open, fearful, and for a second he was still before he shook his head “no.”

“Oh well that’s completely fine you know I’ve never really kissed anyone before either,” the words dribbled out as you turned away, looking out into the meadow in front of you with a grimace, feeling troubled as you ran your hands on the fabric over your thighs. But you didn’t want to make a scene being worried about it, to make him feel bad or scare him, so you laid down too, trying to mirror him, trying not to think of the small distance between you two. Looking up into the sky, you were dizzy, and there was the sun scintillating through the rustling leaves, and billions of shades of green in all different states of illumination.

You laid there for a couple minutes, a completely restless and futile attempt at relaxation. He looked so scared. Did he understand what you wanted? Did he want it too? Would he ever ask on his own? You sat up again, hugging your knees as you watched all the life going by in the field ahead.

You turned your whole body around that you were facing him, lying on your hip and supporting yourself with one arm as you looked down at him. He didn’t look quite as shaken up as you felt he might be, or as you were from the itching desire to be closer. His eyes again were closed, you almost wondered if he was sleeping. But the sound of your movements got his attention enough, this time his eyes fluttered open gently, and he met your gaze with a sweet, closed mouth smile that you couldn’t help but match. From somewhere over your head, a butterfly came and circled clumsily, both your eyes followed it until it - you gasped - landed on the crown of his hair.

“Don’t move! It landed on you!” You half-shouted, not wanting to scare it away, and his expression widened in surprise. “Oh, that’s wonderful, I wish I had a camera!” Norman was frozen, even trying not to breathe too hard, and looked up as far as he could. It was a brilliant orange creature against the backdrop of his dark hair, smattered with black spots, edged in white, it flexed it’s fan-shaped wings open-closed, open-closed, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the loveliness of it. You inched closer and reached over slowly, trying not to frighten it away, holding your hand out, thinking that maybe if you were gentle enough it might crawl on your finger but - too close! The butterfly took flight again, bouncing aimlessly away on the air. “Aww no, I scared it away, damn it!” You were disappointed, but laughed as you said it.

“Was it really on me? I couldn’t see!” He asked, and you nodded down at him, smiling. And your heart started beating fast, because you had moved pretty close in trying to get the butterfly, closer and more intimate here lying down than you had ever felt before. Maybe you had been physically closer, but here, lying on the blanket, his flushed and smiling face below you, you could just lean in and kiss him for the first time right there. You pictured yourself doing it. Your face fell, unable to smile convincingly so flustered as you were, so hesitant. Norman caught the change in mood, his face matching your seriousness, his eyebrows pinched just a bit in concern, a question in his eyes.

“Norman, I want to kiss you…” You murmured, and his face took on the same flat neutrality of terror as before as you spoke: “Norman, can I kiss you…?”

For a few seconds, there was no answer, no reaction, just the same deer-in-headlights look on his face, and you felt a moment of piercing rejection through your heart. You pulled away just barely, feeling pained, although you were still watching, still waiting for him to say anything.

Almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

“Really?” You breathed, halfway disbelieving. But he nodded again, whispered “yes” so softly he might as well have just mouthed the word. Now your heart was racing in your chest, the blood was rushing in your ears, the sound of pure excitement, as you looked from his eyes to his mouth, brown eyes to his lips, slightly parted…

You moved in, stroked the side of his hair that was combed nicely behind his ear, placing your palm flat next to his head and bracing your weight on your hand as you leaned in, bridging the distance, closing your eyes until finally, you made contact, pressing your lips to his, soft and warm and unmoving, and stayed there for seconds that felt like minutes with glorious fire burning in your chest, until you puckered your lips slightly as you pulled away, the small, wet sound of suction between you.

You made just enough distance between you that you could see the dazed, glassy-eyed look on his face, and you felt the shuddering, trembling breath he let out against your lips. You searched his eyes, and when you moved to kiss him again, this time he lifted his head to meet your lips and kissed you back, clumsy at first before he caught onto the rhythm - kissing, pulling, suction, breathing. He unfolded his arms beneath you, and you felt his arm go around you, palm flat against your shoulder blade as he stroked your back softly up and down; his other hand came up to your face, knuckles brushing against your cheek, before his fingers went to comb through your hair, fingertips brushing your scalp then carding through to the ends, creating a delightful frisson sensation until his hand found its rest at the back of your head. You felt comfortable to let your weight lean into him a bit, your chest pressed warm against his, and it freed your own hand to go to his face, feeling the ridge of his cheekbone, poky stubble just underneath the skin, the motion of the sharp edge of his jawline as your lips glided over each other, breaths intermingling in the space between you. the sensations raking up brilliant sparks of pleasure that exploded in your chest, lighting the delicious warm ache of hunger throughout your body that made you press yourself into him more. Until gently, you broke away for rest, to catch a full breath, and you saw him follow you up, wanting and needing more, until he realized you were pulling away and let his head fall back, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, shining kiss-swollen lips as he took deep, heavy breaths.

“Are you… Are you sure you’ve never kissed anyone else before?” He asked breathlessly, dreamily, with a smile.

It was all you could do to laugh and kiss him again, and again, and again.

#lol #proud reader insert enjoyer but now that its on my main im trembling in fear of the cringe police and also of my writing abilities #oh well i hope u enjoy<333333333 #norman bates x reader #highly unedited #and i tried so very hard to keep it under 2k but failed its coming out jutst over 3k LOL

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