#on the OTHER hand if it doesnt come out right despite me doing a gauge swatch and everything im gonna kms

[lesbienneanarchiste]

Trying to not let myself cast on a new cardigan until I've finished something else bc on the one hand, I find it so stressful to have 800 half-finished projects on the go, taking up space and yarn. On the other hand, is the time/energy/yarn actually wasted if it distracts me from my agonies.

[pandastern]

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 12: Heart to Heart

If youd like to be tagged to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist  II  AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count:   2080

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

When Aizawa opened the infirmary door, the scent of nitroglycerin hit him like a wall. Taking in the room before him, he noticed two things. Firstly, Artemis was sitting hunched over on the bed, holding her red face in her hands and shaking. Secondly, Bakugou was standing in the corner of the room furthest away from her, stubbornly facing the wall. The overpowering scent of the explosive compound was proof that the young man was sweating buckets.

That was suspicious. Aizawa was used to seeing the two at one another’s throats, but finding them in this state made him suspect that they didn’t hate each other as much as they led on. At least, not anymore.

Teenagers…

“Oh, dear, you don't look so good.” Recovery Girl's voice cut through the room as she rushed towards the shaking Artemis and pressed a small hand to her forehead. “Hm… It doesn’t seem to be a fever, but your heart rate is elevated-”

“I’m fine!” Artemis huffed stubbornly, though the slight tremble in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Aizawa. 

While that was going on, Bakugou had slowly moved towards the door, probably hoping to remain unseen. Aizawa couldn’t recall a time he’d seen the young man so flustered. The tips of his ears were almost as red as Artemis’s hair.

He sighed and shook his head, deciding to give Bakugou his wish and pretend he hadn’t seen him. Given his explosive temperament, it was probably a better option for everyone involved.

When Bakugou had left, Aizawa shifted his attention back to his newest problem child. He pulled up a chair as best as he could with only one working arm and waited until Recovery Girl had finished patching her up.

“There, that should do it,” the old lady huffed, stepping back.

Now that her treatment was over, Aizawa cleared his throat and asked, “Could I have a moment alone with my student?” His eyes focused on Artemis.

Recovery Girl sighed deeply, but agreed and left through the door. For a few moments, silence fell upon the room as Aizawa sized up the girl in front of him.

Artemis shifted uncomfortably. As usual, he picked up the distrust in her body language, like an animal in a cage, ready to defend itself.

“Miss Moon, what were the conditions that I gave you for taking part in the Sports Festival?” Aizawa asked slowly.

Artemis took a deep breath, her face shifting into an unreadable mask. “You said I was fine to compete as long as I was healthy enough.”

“Then, explain to me why I’m sitting in the Nurse's Office with you after just one round.”

She ground her teeth. “I was fine. I am fine! I don't understand why everyone is making such a fuss.” Despite the conviction in her words, she avoided Aizawa’s eyes.

“Do I really have to explain to you how stupid, irresponsible and reckless your actions were?” asked Aizawa. “As a hero, citizens will depend on you and your abilities, not to mention your teammates. If you can’t admit that you’re not up to a job, you not only endanger yourself, but the people around you.”

With every scolding word, he began to see steel walls rise up between him and his student. A vault with a hundred metal doors. That's what Aizawa could see in Artemis Moon. He’d taken on students with difficult backgrounds before. This one, however, left him puzzled. An unfathomable anger burned deep in her green eyes, though what it was directed towards, exactly, he couldn’t say.

“What does it matter?” she snapped. “In the USJ, I got the job done before the teachers showed up, didn’t I? I would have gotten the job done here, as well! I’m not so weak that I need to be sheltered and babied. Trust me when I say I’ve been through worse.” She got up suddenly. “As long as the objective is cleared and the mission is a success, it doesn't matter what happens to me. Besides, are you really in a position to lecture me at this point, Mr Mummy Man?”

Aizawa sighed inwardly. While he didn’t appreciate being insulted, he also knew that there was no point getting through to her when she was like this. Most other students would have listened to him, but the pure stubborness in this girl acted like a shield between her and his words.

He still hadn’t forgotten what Artemis had said on the bus ride to the USJ. The mindset she’d displayed had been downright concerning for someone so young. What had surprised Aizawa was how she’d acted during the attack itself. He’d read the report of her behaviour carefully several times, and it had left him wondering.

Taking a deep breath, he decided on a different approach. “Answer me one question, then, Artemis. Why are you here?”

That seemed to catch her off guard. “What?” she asked, brows furrowing as if he’d asked her why the sky was blue.

“Why do you want to be a hero?”

Another silence fell between teacher and student. Aizawa watched as Artemis mulled over his words, trying to come up with an answer. Not once did she let her eyes drift from him. She watched his every move, as though she still considered him some kind of threat.

After pacing up and down the room several times, she sat down again.

“I don't,” she said finally. “I don't want to be a hero. Not that I would be any good at it, anyway.”

“Then why did you come to UA?”

“There's… something I must do that’s only possible with a Hero License.”

Aizawa would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been expecting an answer like that. The disdain for hero society was apparent in her demeanour.

“All right,” he said. “Let me put it in words you might understand more easily. Your injuries were so serious that you could have damaged your body permanently. You came very close to ending any potential career before it had even begun. Don’t you see that? If Bakugou hadn’t stopped you, everything you’ve planned for in life would go to waste. You’d be absolutely useless.”

He knew his words sounded harsh, even hurtful. Wake-up calls generally weren’t something he enjoyed dishing out, though considering Artemis’s reaction, he’d hit his target.

“You’re old enough to understand that if you’re not capable of keeping yourself alive, you’re not capable of helping anyone,” Aizawa continued. “I don't know what plans you have with your life and I won't pry, but you will not be able to achieve them the way you’re going right now.”

Artemis felt like she’d been slapped in the face. Aizawa gave her a couple of moments to let his words sink in.

“So, what… You’re saying I’m… incapable?” she whispered in a shaky voice.

“No. If I deemed you incapable, I would have expelled you already.” Aizawa’s voice fell to a softer tone. “In fact, I see great potential in you. You said you wouldn’t be a good hero, yet when the life of your classmates were in danger, you did everything you could to save them. You put their needs first. If you ask me, that's exactly what a hero should do. All I ask is that you take your own health more seriously. I don’t want to see a potentially great hero retire before her time.”

“You think… I could be a good hero?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Now, go get to the showers and join your classmates on the tribunes. I have to get back to Present Mic.”

With that, Aizawa left Artemis to her thoughts. There were many more things he’d wanted to say, and he knew that eventually, he’d have no choice but to tell them to her. However, if gauging her reaction had told him one thing, it was that he had to tread delicately around this subject. One step too far, and she would run, and given the things Aizawa had heard and witnessed from her, he couldn’t afford to have her block him out completely. Not when he believed that he might be able to help her.

--

Artemis stood in the showers and let the hot water run down her skin. Her muscles and head ached, but the sensation of the water was enough to keep her spinning thoughts grounded.

Aizawas words still echoed in her mind. She, a hero? Yeah, right. Even if she had the potential for it, she’d never want to be one. Heroes were glorified to the point of corruption. She’d experienced that first hand. A mental image of her father popped up in her mind and she gritted her teeth. 

“I will not be like you,” she hissed.

After washing off the thin layer of grime and sweat the first round had left her with, Artemis slipped into a new set of PE clothes and made her way through the halls of the stadium towards the tribunes.

She hoped to God that Bakugou would be too busy with the competition itself to interact with her again. Artemis still didn't quite know what had come over her when she’d kissed him. Her stomach lurched strangely whenever she thought about it. Not once in her life had she felt like this before. Maybe she really was getting sick.

Artemis decided to avoid the explosive boy for now and investigate this strange feeling later. Her head was still spinning from the conversation with Aizawa, and the painkillers Recovery Girl had given her, while dulling her pain a little, had made her feel woozy. Now that the tension of the festival had subsided, the exhaustion of her own body really was free to take over.

She turned a corner, pondering whether one last can of energy drink would be enough to get her through the day, when she suddenly heard a deep, enthusiastic voice pipe up ahead of her.

“Endeavor! It’s been a while, old friend.”

Artemis recognised All Might’s voice at once, though it was his words that made her frown. Endeavor? What were the country’s two top heroes doing here instead of watching the spectacle?

“Don’t act like we’re friends. I have nothing to say to you, All Might.” Endeavor’s tone was as cold as ice.

All Might barked out a laugh. “Oh, come now. Your son is one of my students! He's doing well. How about we have a little chat?”

“Of course he’s doing well. It’s what’s expected of him.”

Endeavor’s voice sent shivers down Artemis’s spine. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop on her teacher, but for some reason, her feet just wouldn’t move. If she remembered right, then Endeavor's son was Shoto Todoroki, the boy with the half hot half cold quirk. Artemis had only seen him in action a few times in practice, but even from her limited observations, she could tell that he was strong. Not the most friendly kid she'd ever met, though.

“How about you give me a tip on how to raise the next generations of heroes,” said All Might. “You know, since you have the experience.”

Artemis couldn't tell if All Might was just dense and unable to sense the menace in Endeavor’s attitude, or if he was just blatantly ignoring it.

“And why would I do that? You’d better watch your back, All Might. The boy is my masterpiece! He will surpass you and beat you into the ground. After all, that’s the reason why I created him-”

Artemis’s ears started ringing. She’d had heard this kind of talk before. 

You are my masterpiece. My greatest creation! You will pave the way for my glory.

Her stomach dropped, and for a moment, she felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. How many times had her father said these exact words to her before making her do something horrifying?

Rage bubbled up in her gut. Endeavor didn’t even seem to feel ashamed for what he had just so openly admitted to the Symbol of Peace, and Artemis found herself wondering what Shoto Todoroki had lived through if the man that spoke exactly like her own father called him son.

Finally forcing herself to move, she turned on her heels and ran. 

Artemis had been aware that hero society was anything but heroic, but never had she imagined that the number two hero himself could be just as monstrous as the man that had created her.

Tagg list:   

 @sammyluvzz​ @chicledechoclo

[seraph-novak]

Are you taking prompts for Tyrus? If so, could you do one where TJ helps Cyrus to rehearse for a play? thanks, have a lovely day.

All feedback is very much appreciated, but comments and reblogs really make all the difference. Thank you!

Also available on AO3 ♥

~~~~~

Cyrus is quickly losing his patience. On the opposite end of the Kippens’ couch, Amber is grinning down at her phone, a strand of golden hair twisted around her finger as she giggles at something on the screen – no doubt another text from her ‘mystery’ admirer. Cyrus simply sits there and waits, passively fiddling with the corner of his script as he waits for his friend to snap out of her crush-induced daze.

Without thinking, he lets his eyes drift to the corner of the room, settling on the older boy sitting quietly in a well-worn chair, his nose buried in a book. His hair is a shade darker than Amber’s, but his eyes are the same sea-foam green, with a touch of grey softening the bright hue. He’s never really spoken to Amber’s brother before, apart from a few pleasantries exchanged in passing, but there’s something about TJ Kippen that has always intrigued him…

Just then, the other boy lifts his head, as if sensing Cyrus’ curious eyes. A blush warms Cyrus’ cheeks as he quickly returns his attention to the script in his hands, but not quick enough to miss the hint of a smirk playing on TJ’s lips.

“Are you almost done?” he asks Amber, his words sounding sharper than intended. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees TJ go back to reading his book, and his shoulders slump in relief. “Sorry, I just… I’ve only got a few more days to rehearse, remember? The nerves are starting to kick in.”

Amber glances up from her phone, a sliver of guilt fracturing her lovesick smile. “Sorry, Cy. Just gimme a sec.”

It takes closer to a minute than a second for Amber to finally put her phone down, but Cyrus lets it slide. At least he now has a distraction from the indecipherable looks TJ keeps sneaking him, scorching his skin and quickening his heartbeat. 

As they return to the play, Cyrus can’t ignore the longing glances Amber keeps flicking at her phone. With every new text, her concentration wanes even more, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she visibly fights the urge to throw the script across the room and pick up her phone instead. She’s practically vibrating with the effort to focus, her face pinching tighter and tighter as the incoming texts start to slow down.  

“Amber,” Cyrus says, nudging her leg with his foot. “It’s your line.”

She tears her eyes away from the phone, now blessedly silent, and shakes her head. “Sorry… Where are we?”

“Page 14. Line 38.”

“Oh, right.” She slides a finger down the script, her brow furrowed as she searches for the right line. A few seconds later, she clears her throat and falls back into character. “Thomas,” she says, her voice slightly higher than usual. “I thought you’d never –”

“Nope,” Cyrus cuts her off. “Wrong line.”

“Are you sure?”

Cyrus smooths his face and lifts an eyebrow, his breath catching on the edge of a sigh. “Unless we skipped ahead to the final scene without me realising, I’m pretty sure it’s the wrong line.”

Across the room, TJ snorts, an amused smile nicking the corner of his mouth as he meets Cyrus’ eyes. For a brief moment, something warm and sweet blossoms in his chest, but it’s quickly cooled by the sudden ringing of Amber’s phone. He shoots a glare at his friend, silently warning her not to pick it up, but it’s no use.

“I’m so sorry,” Amber says, shrugging helplessly. “It’s Andi. I have to answer!” Before Cyrus can protest, she throws her script at TJ and picks up her phone, already halfway up the stairs. “Run lines with Cyrus until I’m back, okay?”

TJ frowns. “But –”

“Thank you!”

A flirtatious giggle floats down the stairs in her wake, followed by the sound of her bedroom door closing. Once she’s gone, an awkward silence settles over the room. Cyrus looks over at TJ, his stomach churning as the older boy studies the script now lying in his lap, and forces a smile.

“You don’t really have to run lines with me,” he says, twisting his hands together. “I’ll just wait until she’s back.”

TJ scoffs. “That could be a while.”

“Yeah.” He huffs a laugh, then sighs. “Maybe I should just go…”

“I thought you said you only had a few days to rehearse?”

“I do,” Cyrus says, his heart skipping at the notion of TJ paying attention to what he was saying. “But I can do that by myself. Or I’ll ask my mom to help.” He winces, realising too late how lame that must sound. “Or one of my many friends.”

TJ chuckles, and the sound sends a pleasant shiver down his spine, soothing the aching burn of his cheeks.

“Let me help.”

“I… You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“But –”

“Scooch over,” TJ says, gently slapping Cyrus’ outstretched legs with his script as he sits down on the couch. When he’s comfortable, he licks his finger and flips through the pages. “Page 14, right?”

Cyrus swallows thickly. “Um… Yeah.”

“You’re Thomas?”

“Yeah.”

“So, I guess I’m… Alice?”

A nervous laugh bubbles in his chest. “You really don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t mind,” TJ insists.

“Are you sure?”

“100%.”

Cyrus hesitates, then breathes a sigh as he settles down and reopens his script. “Okay then… I’ll start from the top.” He coughs to clear his throat, flicking an anxious glance at TJ, and starts to read. “I think we need to talk, Alice.”

“About what?” TJ says, a feminine twinge to his voice.

Cyrus fights back a smile and keeps reading.

They run through the scene fluidly, only stopping to turn pages and share secret smiles over the tops of their scripts. As Thomas confesses his undying love for Alice, and the tone of the play takes a turn into sappy territory, Cyrus feels himself flushing darkly, his voice turning tight and raspy as the two characters begin tossing flirtatious comments at each other.

“Who wrote this play?” TJ asks on the cusp of a laugh, his own cheeks turning pink. “It’s very, uh…”

“Terrible?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it that bluntly, but yeah.”

Cyrus snorts. “A few of the girls in my group are Jane Austen wannabes.”

“Yikes.”

“Yep.” Cyrus scratches the back of his head, the smile slowly dying on his lips as he skims through the upcoming pages of groan-worthy dialogue. “We can stop if you want.”

TJ snaps his head up. “What? No! It’s just starting to get juicy.”

“I thought you said it was terrible?”

“It is, but…”

Across the room, the discarded book lying on the chair TJ was previously sitting in catches his eye, and a teasing grin spreads across his face. There’s a cheesy stock photo of two women in old-fashioned dresses strolling through a park on the cover, with tiny umbrellas held above their bonneted heads.

“Oh,” he says, folding his arms with a quirk of an eyebrow. “I see… You’re a Jane Austen wannabe, too.”

TJ blushes. “It’s my mom’s!”

“Sure.”

“Shut up…”

“Hey, I’m not judging!”

When TJ sees him smirking, he breaks into a smile of his own, playfully kicking Cyrus in the shin as readjusts himself on the couch. “Let’s get back to it.”

“Eager, aren’t we?”

“Ha-ha.”

Cyrus wipes the grin off his face, despite the butterflies still fluttering in his stomach, and tries to focus on the poorly-written script in his hands. They dive back into flirty banter – Austen style – all the while stealing glances at each other, their lips twitching with barely supressed laughter. It’s only when the scene shifts from light to serious that Cyrus feels his palms beginning to sweat.

“You look beautiful in the moonlight,” he says, his voice trembling. Even though the words aren’t directed at TJ, he can still hear his heart pounding against his ribcage as he risks a glance at the other boy, trying to gauge his reaction. “You look beautiful in all lights, of course, but this is different.”

TJ licks his lips. “Different how?”

“Your hair shines,” Cyrus says, his voice a whisper. “Your eyes twinkle like starlight. Your skin glows.” He lifts his head, eyes drifting to TJ’s face once again. His gaze is fixed resolutely on his script, but Cyrus can see the blush creeping up his neck, the ripple of his throat as he swallows, the slight furrow between his brows, the silent murmur of his lips as he follows Cyrus’ lines on the page… “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

TJ freezes, his mouth falling open, and Cyrus realises his mistake: that line isn’t in the script.

“I…” The words die in his throat. He gulps back his embarrassment and tries again, his face starting to burn. “I’m sorry, I just… I-I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay –”

“I got a little carried away, you know?” Cyrus closes his script and gets to his feet, desperately searching for his bag beneath the coffee table. “I think I should go now. Thanks for helping me and everything… I really appreciate it.”

TJ reaches for his arm, but Cyrus shakes him off.

“I’m sorry for making things weird,” he says, tears of humiliation stinging the backs of his eyes. “I don’t know if Amber told you, but I’m gay. Not that you care.” He laughs, completely mortified. “Wow. I just came out to a guy I barely know. This is just getting better and better, isn’t it?”

When TJ reaches for him a second time, he doesn’t miss. His fingers are gentle, but his grip is firm, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Cyrus’ face as he slowly lowers him back onto the couch.

“Calm down,” he says, giving his arm a quick squeeze before letting go. A blinding smile breaks across his face when Cyrus finally meets his eyes. “If you think I’m mad at you for calling me gorgeous, then I must be worse at this than I thought.”

Cyrus frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been flirting with you for the past half an hour, you idiot.”

“What?”

“Okay… I guess I really am bad at this.”

Cyrus shakes his head, trying to steady his racing thoughts. “Are you saying you like me?”

“I have for a while,” TJ admits, shrugging bashfully. “I know we’ve never really talked, but… I’ve seen you around. And you hang out with my sister a lot.” He huffs, one side of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. “Why do you think I always stay downstairs when you come over? I like being around you.”

“Oh,” Cyrus says, a touch breathless.   

The tension in TJ’s shoulders melts away as Cyrus returns a tentative smile of his own. For a moment, they just sit there, smiling shyly at each on the middle of the couch, their knees deliberately brushing against each other.

“So,” TJ says after a while, his fingers nervously drumming the cool leather between them. “I was thinking… Maybe we could –”

“I’m back!” Amber announces as she bounces down the stairs, her cheeks rosy from her conversation with Andi. When she notices TJ and Cyrus sitting so close, she stalls on the bottom step, her smile morphing into a scowl as she narrows her eyes.  “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing!” Cyrus squeaks, accidentally throwing his script in the air and hitting TJ on the head. He cringes, hiding his face in his hands, and splutters an apology. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, TJ! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

TJ rubs the back of his head and chuckles. “I think I’ll live.”

“Maybe you should go upstairs now,” Amber says, glaring pointedly at her brother. “We have work to do.”

“Right.” TJ rolls his eyes and gets to his feet, shoving his script into Amber’s hands. He picks up his cheesy Victorian novel and heads towards the stairs, only stopping to cast a gentle smile over his shoulder at Cyrus. “Good luck with the play,” he says, ignoring the daggers Amber is shooting at the side of his head. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Cyrus chews his lip and shrugs. “You could come, you know? The tickets are all sold out, but I could sneak you in.” He blushes, immediately doubting himself. “Only if you want to, of course. I mean, the script is pretty terrible, and I’m not exactly the greatest actor in the world, so you really don’t have to –”

“I’m there,” TJ cuts in with another smile, offering him a wink before turning around and disappearing up the stairs.

As soon as he’s gone, Amber throws herself onto the couch and punches Cyrus in the arm. “You’re not allowed to have a crush on my brother, okay? That goes against the rules of friendship!”

“You have way too many rules,” Cyrus says. “And, besides… You’ve been flirting with my best friend all afternoon, so I’d say we’re even.”

Amber opens her mouth to protest, then freezes, a groan escaping her lips. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Thank you.”

“But you do admit you have a crush on him?”

Cyrus glances at the staircase, the frantic beating of his heart still echoing in his ears as a nervous grin tugs at his lips. “Yeah… I think I do.”

The End.

~~~~~

You can find the rest of my Tyrus fics on Tumblr or AO3! Thanks for reading ♥

[enzelffxiv]

(part 1|2|3|4|5)

He came to with cold stone at his back. Everything ached, but distantly, as if he’d been in a fight a few days before and it was just catching up to him.

There was another figure sprawled at his feet, though it took them a moment to register who. Imry, in unfamiliar armor–it had been enameled in white once but bore too many scratches and scars now. He recognized the battered round shield she always insisted on carrying, but the sword he’d never seen before. It was small, and quite frankly, entirely unremarkable.

After a moment she stirred, as if waking up from a long sleep, though the place they lay was hardly appropriate for for a nap.

“Are you all right?” he found himself saying. “I’ve been waiting for you to open your eyes.”

-

The next time they saw her, she seemed diminished. Not physically, but in presence. There were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. She carried their sword across her back now, but she had insisted on keeping the shield…

“I don’t understand,” Imry was saying, lifting a hand to pinch the wide bridge of her nose. “You want me to fight these beasts, but–have they attacked someone? Can they be eaten?”

“I need to be able to gauge your strength.”

“If that’s all it is, let’s go see Haurchefant. I bet he would spar with me again–”

“Imry,” they said impatiently, “a real fight. With real stakes.”

“Why haven’t we asked the locals, then? Maybe there’s something I can do for–”

They interrupted her. “Do you do this wherever you go? Looking for grunt work like a common sellsword? Your skills demand more than that.”

Her brow furrowed in bewilderment. They sighed. “Never mind. If you insist. If we’re lucky, perhaps they’re being terrorized by some overgrown monster.”

“That wouldn’t be lucky…” The confusion was evident in her voice. “It means people are getting hurt.”

“Yes, yes, and you’d be able to save them. That’s what a champion of the weak does, isn’t it?”

Imry looked uncertain. “Of course,” she replied after a moment, without much conviction.

-

She had new armor, finally. The Lord of House Fortemps had gifted it to her for her service. But she stubbornly refused to give up her shield. It looked even smaller and shabbier now against the shine of new-forged metal.

“Treating with the heretics? Are you all mad?”

“It’ll probably be a long journey,” she said. She had her back to them, busying herself with her chocobo’s tack. The normally placid, easygoing beast was shifting and whistling anxiously. Imry patted the side of her neck. “It’s all right, girl. We’ll get you something warm to wear–”

“And whose godsforsakenly foolish idea was that–”

“Mine,” she said firmly. “And Alphinaud’s.”

“The war in Ishgard has raged on for a thousand years. You don’t think people have have tried to end it before, and failed?”

“If we don’t try, more people will die. I have to do what I can.”

“This isn’t even your homeland!”

She turned to face them again, and her eyes were bright and full of worry. Infuriating. “It’s yours, though. Isn’t it?”

They didn’t know what to say.

-

“You smell like blood.”

Imry looked at them wearily. “Estinien got the worst of it…I think his armor may be ruined.”

“If you didn’t look fit to keel over at any moment, I’d say this were the perfect time…” Communion required a sacrifice, after all.

“You always have such strange…” she took a moment to find the word. “Priorities.”

“Ah, you’re right. I should be congratulating you on your victory. And I do mean that–”

“I just came to tell you the news. Because it’s been so long.”

“Imry, every citizen has been shouting of Nidhogg’s demise from the rooftops. You don’t think I would have heard?”

Imry was silent for a moment, seated on the steps, hands folded over the helm in her lap. Her hair had matted from being underneath it so long, her lips cracked from the cold.

“I wanted to tell you myself,” she said finally. “The truth. About Ishgard.”

They were silent as she recounted the tale. Despite the horror of the revelation, deep down, they knew–it was a familiar one. A tale that repeated itself through the ages, in ways both large and small. Greed, violence, retribution. Once the cycle began, it often didn’t end until everyone involved was dead. And dragons had much longer memories than man…

There was quiet for a long time after Imry finished speaking. Finally, she looked up at the overcast sky.

“Do you think things can finally change now?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” they said scathingly. “You really believe the clergy, the nobles, would ever admit to such a truth? They’d rather sit on their power and keep sending the lowborn off to war.”

“But why would they give up the chance for peace?”

That was just it, wasn’t it. Why, indeed? Why was she so simple?

“I envy the world you live in,” they said coldly.

“It’s the same as yours,” she said, not understanding the idiom, as usual.

“Come see me again in a day. That should be enough. Now go back to your friends.”

-

She didn’t return for a week and a half. When she did, it was out of full armor; she wore a chain shirt under her heavy coat, and her hair was down in two long braids. She smelled of the reagents they used to clean bandages in the infirmary.

She sat down where she had the last time, and said nothing for a long while. For once, they broke the silence.

“It’s been some time.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was…frighteningly subdued. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“You, at a loss for words? I’m shocked.”

“I didn’t want to leave Akiv'a. He hasn’t been himself since–” A deep breath. “Since what happened in the Vault.” Her gloved fingers curled slightly in her lap.

And what about you?

“I hear you two are inseparable.”

“He’s my best friend,” she said, fiercely. “We always have each other’s backs. That’s why–”

Why does it hurt? What have you given up?

“I need to be stronger.”

Neither of them knew which one had spoken aloud.

-

You understand now, don’t you? You and I…we’re the same.

Imry–

You called out to me. You pulled me from the darkness. This was your will…and now I’ve decided.

Everything you’ve done was for others. For the nations, the people. For Eorzea. And what happened? They turned on you. Betrayed you. You owe them nothing.

But I know you. 

I am you. 

You can’t refuse them. You can’t turn your back on them. The moment someone cries out in pain or distress, you’ll be there to help them. Ever the hero.

Someday it’s going to kill you. And I can’t let that happen.

You wanted strength. I have it. I’m stronger than you now, so–

I’ll protect you this time. You don’t have to do a thing.

-

“You have to give her back.”

Akiv'a looked even smaller than usual, somehow. Ears laid back nearly flat against his skull, brow furrowed, the tip of his tail lashing anxiously. His one hand curled into a fist so tight the claws dug into his palm. 

“She hasn’t gone anywhere.” Confusion tinged their voice–was he afraid? Why? “She’s safe now.”

“Let me talk to her.” He was trying to keep his voice steady. "If she's there, then--"

“I can’t.” Why didn’t he understand? It was for her own good.

“Safe doesnt matter if she can’t see, hear, feel anything–”

"There wasn't any other choice." Why didn’t he understand? “The world is hard–and she couldn’t handle it on her own. She chose this.”

“She wouldn't--that can't be...she wouldn't just give up!" He shook his head, looking away.

Why does it hurt?

"You think I'm lying?" Their voice wavered. Strange. Akiv'a's eyes flashed as he looked them over again, but the anger faded quickly to something else. An ache.

This feeling...is the same. It's loneliness. Longing.

"You won't accept me in place of her."

"No one's going to replace her! Not whatever you are, not--I don't care what you do, just give her back! Give her back..."

He took a step forward, and they could feel the aether gathering around him.

Of course. A shade was no substitute. But it didn't matter. Whatever it took to protect her--yes, even if he hated them.

"She lost to me because she was weaker. That's why..."

Aether flared. A flame burst to life over Akiv’a’s right shoulder, the egi uncurling in one smooth motion.

Fragment of Ifrit. The flames were so familiar. They remembered the anger, the horror, the heat on their face, the taste of ash on their tongue. Searing pain on the left side of their face. The gritty haft of a spear stolen from an Amalj'aa clutched in their bare hands.

One of her memories.

He’d summoned the creature without an incantation or even even a gesture. It was pure instinct.

"Imry isn't weak," he forced through gritted teeth. "If you've done something to her, then--"

They drew their sword with a bitter laugh. No shield, just nearly two yalms of steel. "There's nothing you can do."

The groaning of earth and stone, the sharp shriek of the wind–two more glowing forms joined the first. Akiv'a cast his arm wide, fingers curled.

"Try me."

-

They lay on their back in the snow.

If any of them really cared for her–

A voice, calling.

I’m sorry. I failed you. I couldn’t be what you needed.

“That’s all right,” Imry said. She sat with her knees up, arms folded atop them. She was looking into the distance. They could hear the sound of waves. 

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I thought maybe–maybe…”

She put her head down.

“I was just running away. I thought I was sparing them. Everything was so hard already…I didn’t want anyone to see me falter.”

They should have protected you! They should have done better!

She shook her head. "I’ll–…I’ll go back now. I don’t want to worry anyone any longer. You can rest.”

Silence.

She looked up at them, eyes wide. “You’re not going to disappear, are you?“

Of course not. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.

-

Pain was familiar, even if the rest of it was not.

They looked over their hands, then up into Imry’s anxious face, leaning over them.

"Did it–it worked!” Her voice wavered, and they realized after a moment that she looked strangely pale. Ashen. “Are you all right? How do you feel…?”

“What did you…you idiot, what did you do–” Instinctively they grabbed for her shoulder as she swayed, then sat down next to them abruptly. Sweat stood out on her forehead, and her breathing was fast and shallow.

“I-I’m all…I just need to sit for a moment. That’s all.” She reached up to rub her face with one arm, and a glint of light caught their eye; held in her other trembling hand, two crystals. The smaller one a deep, deep red, surface carved with a familiar symbol. The other they had never seen before, but knew immediately what it was.

Her Crystal of Light.

“What did you do.”

“I…I didn’t want you to be lonely anymore. It’s my fault–for making you…because I was–because I couldn't accept what was right in front of me...” Her fingers curled around the crystals, and she clutched them to her chest, over her heart. They could feel her heartbeat, faint and frantic. And something else–a clawing ache deep in their own chest. A gaping emptiness.

“No.”

They grabbed her by both shoulders, and she looked startled, but didn’t protest.

“You–you absolute–…” At a loss, they gave up and simply stared at her.

Imry smiled weakly. “I-I’m sure it’ll take getting used to, but…this way, we can both be here…”

"I don't want to get used to it!" The words came hastily, panicked. Imry's eyes widened. "It hurts--I don't want to be separate from you!"

"You were--hurting even when we were together. I could feel it..." Imry looked like she might cry. Somehow, that made them angrier. They pushed her away, and she nearly fell, catching herself with her free hand.

"You idiot," they hissed. "Look what you've done to yourself--you could have killed yourself! You can't just use aether like that!"

"I did," she said quietly, stubbornly, no longer looking at them.

"Reverse it," they demanded. When she didn't respond, they held out a hand, palm facing her. "Take it back." 

Imry shook her head.

[ghostiehatesithere]

Patches - I

Mateo didn't know what to make of Prince Lotor. Scratch that. He thought that Lotor was absolutely nuts! What could Zarkon have done to the Prince to make him throw himself at a sun in the hopes of escaping the Galra?

Allura had placed Mateo in charge of watching Lotor while the others tried to figure out what to do with him. Mateo honestly couldn't quite figure out how he got himself into this situation. He knew what happened, but now he's starting to question his thought process. He was one of the Garrison's top recruits. He was one of the best pilots of his class. His cousin, Lance didn't get into the pilotting program at first and Mateo was bummed out because they were thick as theives growing up. However, when Keith dropped out, he was also sad to see a potential friend go so soon but his attitude brightened when the open slot allowed Lance into the program.

However, Lance felt as though he had a lot to prove. He had been looking for Lance to comfort him for his bad run in the simulator the day that they found Shiro. He had walked in on the tail end of the conversation between Pidge, Hunk, and Lance and had leapt headlong into action in order to rescue Captain Takashi Shirogane alongside them, mainly because they never truly got out of trouble without him. 

Though he was the Garrison’s “Golden Boy,” Mateo wasn’t as well liked by his peers as he was by his teachers. They didn’t like that a nobody farmer kid with vitiligo was breezing through the courses like it was child’s play. Mateo would hear them whisper degrading nicknames like Cowbell, Frankenstein, and Patches. He pretended that he couldn’t hear them like Lance, Pidge, and Hunk couldn’t but he did. It didn’t help that he was...different. It was a well kept secret between Mateo and Lance that even their family members didn’t know and it was insanely hard to keep it that way so far out in space. Lance had been a big help by making excuses for him and getting him the things he’d need to keep up the facade. However, the others were already suspicious, and before Lotor even became a problem, they were actively trying to figure out his secret. So far the only one who hadn’t been hounding him about his strange “illness” that kept him in his room some nights. 

It was honestly quite stressful. 

Lance had urged his cousin to at least include Allura in on their little secret but the way she treated Keith after he had learned that he was half Galra had made him leery of the Altean. It wasn’t just with Keith. With Ulaz she was so insistent that he was evil just because he was Galra. Even after Ulaz had given his life to save them, she had insisted that he’d been the one to rat us out to the Galra. She had even been wary of the Blades of Marmora despite them proving to be peaceful towards them. She just...didn’t seem as open minded as he once thought she was and it left a sick feeling in his stomach when the others never truly reprimanded her for her actions. He felt that if he told anyone, especially Allura, anything, he’d be outcasted faster than Lance could say “holy crow.” 

Mateo was strung tight as a bowstring as his gaze never left Lotor’s. He didn’t know why they were having this staring contest, but he knew that if he looked away then he would lose. Something almost primal in him told him to never look away. Lotor smirked at him and he narrowed his eyes in response. He didn’t have anything against Lotor mostly because he didn’t know anything about him. However, that didn’t mean that he trusted the Galra prince. He didn’t understand why the Galra were so quick to turn on him when mere days prior he was their precious Prince and following his order to the T. If he had said jump then they would ask how high. Now it was like he was the dirt beneath their feet. It just didn’t make any sense. 

“You are different from the others,” Mateo frowned, muscles taut as a bowstring as he waited for the exiled prince to elaborate. “I’ve never seen a human with skin like yours.”

“What’s it to you?” Mateo curtly demanded. 

Lotor raised his hands placatingly, “Nothing really. It was merely curiosity that led me to ask.”

“I was born with a rare skin condition called vitiligo,” he answered, seeing no harm in it. 

“Does it lighten or darken the pigment of your skin?” the prince further inquired. 

Mateo raised a brow at him, “Lighten.”

Lotor’s eyes widened and his lips had formed into an “o” shape. There was awe in his eyes, a reaction that Mateo wasn’t used to. Usually he would get the scrunched noses of barely concealed disgust, shock, but never awe. The more ignorant tended to think that his skin condition was contagious and avoided him like the plague. Even Lance’s family was hesitant to touch him when he’d first been brought to their home. Yet, this strange Galra prince looked like he wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him if his twitching fingers were anything to go by. “But that is not the only reason you are different.”

Mateo tilted his head in curiosity and the prince took it as another cue to elaborate. “You don’t look at me with hate in your eyes. The others could barely stand to lay eyes yet you do so as though I’ve done you no wrong? Why?”

"Because you haven't," Mateo answered honestly. "I've seen the videos of your encounters with the Paladins. All you really did was get on everyone's nerves. You never made an active effort to end lives like your father or his soldiers would have. You got in, got what you wanted, and left."

Lotor sent him a look of pleasant surprise. "I hope the others will see things the way that you do."

Mateo casually shrugged, "Probably not." Lotor gave him the most affronted look, like Mateo had crushed his hopes and dreams. "Allura hates your dad like alot and that hate kind of extends to your entire race. The others probably won't argue with her if she decides to shoot you out of an airlock and that’s if your intel doesn’t check out." Mateo tried to not sound as bitter as he felt about that but he couldn't help but feel that way.

Keith was of the mind of "stab first ask questions later," which often made him wonder how he was chosen by the Black Lion but he was rarely around anymore while he was running with the Blades of Marmora. Honestly, Mateo was happy that he’d found a place where he felt like he belonged. Allura was straight racist. Pidge doesn't care who gets hurt as long as she can save her dad which is honestly really understandable. Shiro doesnt really reprimand Allura anyone when they're wrong. Hunk was an absolute angel but he's also really passive. Lance would probably do whatever Allura says because he has feelings for her, which has been a great source of contention for the cousins lately. 

“That makes me wonder why you helped us?” Mateo pressed. “You could have gotten galaxies away while the Galra was focused on us and yet you came to our rescue. Why?”

Lotor avoided Mateo’s gaze, “I honestly thought about it. I had heard the distress signal and thought that it would be the perfect chance to get away. Yet, I didn’t know if I would be able to live with myself knowing that I could make a difference and save lives. All my life I had wished for peace coexistence instead of tyranny. It was for that very reason that I had been exiled in the first place.”

“Hm,” Mateo grunted absently in thought. He knew that Zarkon was a monster but even monsters care about their kids right? Obviously not because he was able to exile his own son and was so horrible that Lotor would risk burning up in a sun’s atmosphere to evade him. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea despite the facts staring him in the face. 

They had both fallen into a comfortable silence, well, almost comfortable. Mateo always needed something to do with his hands because he wasn’t used to stillness. He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a notebook, not noticing that he’d began to hum a song as he began to add words to the paper. The book was old and definitely worn and since coming to space, Mateo had been using it to chronicle the adventures of he and the Paladins. However, it also held short stories and his deepest thoughts, things he even kept from Lance.

Mateo had been about to ask if he knew a good descriptor words for the color purple when his breath hitched and he felt a tightness under his skin. He looked down to see that his hands were shaking and his vision was getting sharper as his eyes began to sting. This wasn’t supposed to have happened for another week at least. He should have been able to hold it off. Why was it starting now? He groaned in pain as his gums grew sore. Lotor shot up to his feet in alarm. “Are you alright?!”

Mateo didn’t answer as he staggered to his feet and tried to stumble out of the room, desperate to get somewhere safe. The castle must have been swaying under his feet because it was never this hard before. He groaned as the insatiable itching began. He managed to find leverage against one of the walls and his fingers clenched on the flat surface, leaving deep gauges in its surface. He yelped when his legs locked up and he fell into the fetal position. Lotor began to beat agains the barrier of his cell in order to help the pained human. 

All that Mateo could think of was getting to his room before the others returned. He felt like crying when the doors slid open to reveal Allura and Shiro who regarded the young man with shock. Shiro scooped him into his arms while Allura regarded the horrified Lotor with a deep glare full of hatred. “What did you do to him?!”

“I did nothing!” Lotor denied. “He had been writing on his strange little pad thing mere ticks ago!”

“Mateo! Speak to me, what’s going on?!” Shiro urged as he propped the teen against his thigh. 

“My...room,” Mateo rasped, hoping that Shiro would understand. The pilot nodded, hoping that his questions would be answered later. On his way he passed Lance who had been chatting with the others. Immediately the brunette dropped everything in order to keep pace with Shiro, his face set in stern determination. It was an expression that the Black Paladin often forgot Lance was capable of. 

The moment the door slid shut behind them, Lance took charge. “Put him on the bed.” Shiro nodded and slid Mateo onto the sheets. Lance gently nudged him out of the way and knelt by his cousin’s head, clasping his clammy hands in his. Shiro noticed with wide eyes that Mateo’s hands were turning purple with patches of white and he could just barely make out the texture of fur growing on his skin. “Shiro.”

The Black Paladin nearly gave himself whiplash returning his gaze back to the uncomfortably serious face of Lance. “I need you to promise me that everything that happens in here doesn’t leave this room.” Shiro could only bring himself to nod as he knelt next to Lance, Mateo’s raspy breaths further worrying him.

“What’s happening to him?” 

Lance stared at Mateo for a few moments, debating on whether or not to tell his leader before giving in with a sigh. “Keith isn’t the only half-Galra on the team. Unfortunately, Mateo can’t stay in human form all the time. He has to change at least once every couple of months.”

“His medical condition...” Shiro muttered in realization.

Lance nodded with a solemn frown, “Yeah, that’s how we’ve been able to keep it from everyone for so long.” Mateo whimpered as his ears grew and sounds became louder. He could hear Hunk, Pidge, and Coran down the hall worriedly talking about his condition. Lance furrowed his brows and he bit his lip, “But something’s wrong. I saw him change last week, so he should be able to hold back the change for another few months.”

A clawed hand balled into the material of Shiro’s shirt and he followed the weak tugging until his ear was practically pressed against Mateo’s lips. “Don’t...tell...Allura,” he choked out, his voice cracking as it deepened. 

Lance sighed tiredly and ran a comforting hand through his cousin’s hair, “We won’t, ‘Teo.”

When the seemingly transformation finally ended, Shiro took in the new yet familiar figure of Mateo. He had a layer of curly amethyst purple fur all over his body with patches of white in the same place as in his human form. His ears were a lot larger and swiveled back and forth. His clenched teeth had become sharper and the whites of his eyes had turned a burning gold. “Why don’t you want Allura to know?” Shiro pried.

Mateo took a deep breath calm his roaring heart, “Come on, Shiro. You know how she is about anything Galra. She calls them a race of blood thirsty murderers even though we have the Blade of Marmora, a Galra rebel force, as allies. Do you even know how she looks at Keith sometimes when she thinks no one is looking?” 

This gave Shiro pause. He looked to Lance but the brunette was avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry. I...I didn’t know,” Shiro said, ashamed that he’d been blind to this behavior. 

Mateo gave him a strained smile. He hadn’t been looking for an apology, he was merely extremely fearful of Allura’s reaction to his Galra parentage. At best she’d treat him how she treats Keith, but the worse case scenario is that she becomes extremely paranoid and starts to think that she’s surrounded by Galra spies. 

“I just want to know if Lotor’s information checks out,” Mateo inquired tiredly, not really want to go down the rabbit hole of his parentage. 

“Yeah it did. Everything he told us was true,” Shiro answered, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

Mateo’s shoulders sagged in relief, “Good, then we can trust him.”Lance leapt to his feet in incredulity, “WHAT?! We can’t trust that guy!”

Mateo scoffed, “Of course not. He’s shady at best, but he’s an ally and he helped us we he could have just have easily let us all die. I’m willing to give him the chance to earn my trust if only to end this stupid war and go home.” 

Lance bit his lip as a pang of homesickness shot through his heart. He’d always known that Mateo wasn’t really cut out for war. Correction. Mateo could fight a war if he needed to and most likely win it but he always sought out a peaceful solution. Mateo didn't even want to join the Garrison, but their family couldn't afford to put him through art school so he had to settle. And it showed in every confrontation they’ve had with the Galra that didn'ttry to kill them at first glance, he’d always hail them and give them a chance to peacefully resolve their issues. It always ended in battle but the fact is that he was always willing to try for peace. When did he stop trying? 

The brunette sighed and sat on the edge of Mateo’s bed before dramatically draping himself over his cousin’s stomach. “Fine, you win. I’ll play nice with Prince Jerkass for now, but if he betrays us I get to shoot him in the face.”

Mateo gave a dark chuckle and clenched his hand into a fist, “You can have his face after I rearrange it.” 

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was a start. After a couple of hours, Mateo was able to revert to human form with some effort. Shiro watched the purple fade and seemingly recede to hide under brown and white patched skin. “Shiro...” he snapped to attention when the older McClain cousin addressed him. “I want you to release Lotor.”

“Why?” Shiro wasn’t all that opposed to the idea but the answer to this question was extremely important. “We need to give him a chance to prove himself,” Mateo answered as he gently nudged at Lance’s head with his finger, jerking it back every time his cousin tried to bite it. “He can’t exactly do that inside a jail cell.”

“We can’t just have him roam completely free.”

“Then make sure that one of us is with him at all times but for his safety, let’s make sure that he’s never alone with Allura.” Shiro stared deep into Mateo’s brown eyes and his gaze never wavered from the Black Paladin's.

“Fine,” Shiro relented, “consider it his probation but there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to spare time for all of the Paladins to watch Lotor. The universe is getting bigger and we’re going to be needed to reclaim more planets from the Galra. Lotor will have to be your responsibility. Whenever you feel like your change is coming on, I need you to tell me so I can relieve you from Lotor duty. Think you can handle it.” 

Mateo offered the older man a smirk that made the Paladin believe that he was looking at Lance. "Of course I can. I'm a McClain.” 

Tag List: @starfaring-princelotor@marvelheaux @fandomsoffeelings@motheroflittlelions @legendofcarl@done-with-your-shit-shirogane@kirahhhh @lotor-for-emperor@yanderemommabean @lotorrential@planet-jumping-warrior

[oscar-isaacs-number-one-bitch]

“How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World” Movie Review

It’s been 5 years since our screens were last graced with the presences of Hiccup and Toothless, the dynamic and impossible not to love duo of the How to Train Your Dragon films. At the end of How to Train Your Dragon 2, audiences were left off seeing Toothless taking position as the alpha of the dragons, and Hiccup accepting the call to be chief of Berk, as his father had wished him to be. With the beginning of The Hidden World, Berk has become the world’s first-ever dragon-Viking utopia, and Hiccup and friends conduct raids on armadas of ships, freeing all manner of dragons from captivity all across the world. But with the presence of a new night fury dragon, as well as a new enemy called Grimmel, Berk is once again in danger, the relationship at this series’ center is tested, and both Hiccup and Toothless must learn that eventually, some things must come to an end, as we learn to let go.

I’ve talked ad nauseum about the How to Train Your Dragon movies and what they mean to be both as a film lover and as a visual storytelling junkie, and I will continue to talk about them until the day I die. The first film is my favorite animated movie of all time (and rightfully so) with a brilliant script, astounding animation (especially for its time), one of the greatest animated film scores of all time, and a narrative that’s both sharply plotted and perfectly paced. The second HTTYD movie followed that up with a story that was more mature, if not quite as naturalistic in its dialogue and pacing, with animation that had advanced during that four-year wait to the height of its capabilities. The Hidden World, then, aims to be that rare trilogy capper that takes the series out on a high note, and for the most part, it does. I just wish the rest of the film, the stuff that wasn’t part of the finale, held up as well as the finale (and the other two movies) did.

See, I did like this film, but I wanted to love it. The adventures of Hiccup and Toothless are some of my favorites of all time, and while with that legacy comes (understandably) a lot of weight that may be difficult to hold, I’ve seen this series hold that weight before with ease. Those first two films have some of the most perfect pacing in any animated features, so the fact that the first two acts of this one are actually kind of dull apart from a handful of moments shared between the light fury and Toothless, as well as a barely 5 minute segment within the title location, is disappointing regardless of how well-animated the action and lighting is. Your mileage may vary on that front, but for me, things just seemed a little bit off what with the intro not including the usual title theme, or “this is berk” introduction by Hiccup until about 6 or 8 minutes in. Those two elements are not necessarily huge missteps for the film, but Dragon devotees like myself will notice their absence. Don’t get me wrong, I’m far from one to endorse pure fan-service as replacement or non-tertiary strengthener for narrative storytelling, but The Hidden World doesn’t quite have as many callbacks to the first or second films as it probably should when considering it’s meant to be the closer to a trilogy nearly ten years running.  

In addition to this, whole swaths of the movie go by where not much actually happens at a plot level. Yes, the friendship between Hiccup and Toothless is tested, and Hiccup’s role as chief is challenged somewhat, but both of these things barely have any effect on the overall narrative as it stands. The large driving force of the plot is that Grimmel presents such a huge threat to Berk that they’ll have to relocate, and maybe the dragons will have to relocate too, but the threat he’s meant to represent honestly isn’t all that compelling. Grimmel’s character is not only under-written, but generically so, and doesn’t have anything quite as affecting to him on a character level as Drago being a fellow disabled person because of dragons in the second film. The script tries to do something with him that parallels a real-world anti-immigration allegory, but while the effort is notable, it ultimately feels underwritten, like they introduced the idea, but then didn’t really know where to go with it, and so it just fades into the background.

In fact, this movie has a character development issue that was bothering me for most of its runtime. Hiccup grows and learns something, but virtually no one else does. No one except Hiccup changes at all from the beginning to the end of the film, and while that’s all well and good that he undergoes a transformation (albeit only in one spoiler-ish respect) this time around, one of the greatest strengths of these movies is that most of the supporting characters change along with him, learning their own lessons along the way. The supporting characters in this movie, though, are relegated to small roles usually designed to deliver a low-level joke one too many times or scout something or tell Hiccup he’s better than his self-doubt. They’re no longer characters in their own right; they’re crutches by which to tell the story (apart from a couple of sweet Stoick flashback scenes) and move the plot along, which is sad considering how richly detailed they’ve been in the last two installments.

There is enough to like about the film, however, that despite being kind of let down by it overall, I still had a good time watching it play out. The animal courtship between the light fury and Toothless is one of the strongest aspects of the movie, and plays out in often simultaneously hilarious and adorable fashion. There are some new things she teaches him that come in very handy during the film’s thrilling (if a bit generic) final sequence, and the results are truly marvelous to behold. While she remains unnamed for the entirety of the film, she will be one of the characters audiences walk away remembering the most. The movie is also fantastically animated, and while The Hidden World plays it pretty safe in terms of shot selection (seriously, where did all the rest of the wide shots and flying intensity go?), what’s up on screen is incredibly detailed and looks gorgeous in its coloration and lighting design, particularly in that 5 minute title sequence. The hidden dragon world is a stunning piece of animation that will go down as one of the greatest ever committed to film. It may feel a bit strange to say that about an animated feature, but if you’ve seen the other two films, you know I don’t exaggerate. Some reviews are also touting John Powell’s score as a major strength, and while it does feel weaker than the other two overall (and doesn’t really enhance the film much), I can almost tell what they mean when listening to it on its own.

The Hidden World’s greatest strength, though, is its finale. Sure, the first two acts may be a bit dull and underdeveloped, but once this movie decides to turn on the emotional gauge, it dials it up to 100 and never looks back. Despite feeling like the overall movie wasn’t quite as good as the first two, this finale is by far the best since the original. Writer and director Dean DeBlois has gone on record several times as saying he never wanted to make anything more than a trilogy for this series, and for that level of integrity, I respect him immensely. Film trilogies are quite rare in this modern, franchise-crazed movie landscape, and to get a finale that makes it so hard to say goodbye to these characters and this world despite its gradually diluting quality, is something truly special and remarkable. (Yes, I was absolutely in tears by the end, and you will be too.)

Overall, How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World is a heartfelt and sincere, but somewhat flawed finale to what remains a great motion picture trilogy. While I found the supporting cast underwritten and the villain uncompelling, I still had fun watching the friendship between Hiccup and Toothless be tested, and seeing where the characters ended up. The first two acts are really just fine (if not super affecting), and it may be the weakest of all three so far, but this trilogy conclusion also has some of the best moments of the whole overall set, not the least of which is its grippingly emotional finale.

I have loved getting to watch these movies over the past 9 years. I have loved growing with them and re-watching them in anticipation of each entry. I have loved taking this journey which has brought me such joy, laughter, and at times, wonderful sorrow. It is bittersweet for me to say goodbye. Farewell, citizens and dragons of Berk. It has been an honor watching you.

I’m giving “How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World” a 7.8/10.

[honeyrose-tea]

thank you for sharing all that with me. it means a lot to me that you trust me. honestly, if he was showing all the signs of being attracted to you he probably was. which just means hes kind of a floozy for moving on to someone else so easily. i do wish your mutual friends had thought to set you up with him, but its possible they didn't know you were interested, or didnt think the two of you had compatible long term goals. i wouldnt blame them too harshly, since you dont know why things happened the way they did.

the one thing i do want to tell you is: do not stop caring about yourself. you are beautiful, and so smart, and such a talented singer/song writer. you have a lot of incredible things that people definitely do notice. i notice, and i miss you when we dont talk for long periods. and i promise you i dont mean this in a disparaging way, but youre young! you have so much life left to love and to fall in love and to have others fall in love with you. 

feel free to stop wearing makeup if thats what you truly want, but dont feel as though none of it is worth it. just because you havent found love yet doesnt mean you never will. 

i do think youre good enough and deserving of love and i really hope you find a love that is strong and pure and that he will be able to show you he loves you even when you feel unloveable, but love is something that takes time and it takes a little bit of patience and luck. but I do know youll find the one for you -🌙

before I get into all my own thoughts, I just wanna say thank you. you always know the right things to say to make me feel better. I love you, friend. and I hope you're doing good too, I know I didn't ask about you in my last message but I was honestly just... feeling terribly. I do care of course and I'd love to know what's going on with you too!!!

so, as far as building my evidence for him being attracted to me, this is what I have

- all the sudden (about 3-4 weeks ago) he started mentioning he was single as often as possible

- he touched me multiple times in one night (not really sexually or anything, a quick hand on my back or my shoulder or something kinda flirty like that) after never having done it before, then stopped and has been almost... purposeful about not doing it again. like it spooked him or something

- EYE CONTACT. very very deep (he looked like he could see into my soul and it was freakyyyy) and often he was looking at me even when someone else was talking

- he has started doing audio and camera at church despite not knowing anything about tech stuff. this also happened right about the same time he started expressing interest in me, and he's almost always on the schedule the same weeks I am. if I didn't know better I'd think he did it to hang out with me. last night at our band rehearsal (which the tech people also attend) I didn't look at him because I didn't want to but I could see him staring at me from the corner of my eye and he seemed... to know something was up. that's probably also me just projecting my own thoughts onto him but I had no feelings for him until he started expressing interest in me, so I feel like at least part of this is based in fact? I don't know

- when I told him about a recent accomplishment of mine, he looked me very deep in my eyes and said "I'm so proud of you" which... is kind of something you had to be there to understand how meaningful it was but it was just so.... genuine and loving. anyway

- he always hangs around during our church group until we're the last two (aside from the couple whose house we're at) and he always parks next to me and says bye to me for a few moments while we're outside alone. he always makes sure to say when he'll see me again, like he's anticipating it and hopes I am too

- he teases and jokes with me a lot but never goes too far or gets rowdy about it like he does with the others

- despite not being a big compliment person he has on several occasions complimented me on being smart and a good singer (both of which are debatable, but I digress). I haven't really noticed him doing it with anyone else either

- we've been talking through a sermon series on marriage (which has been a whole thing lol) and every time he chimes in with some kind of insight about what a good marriage should look like, he seems to always be looking at me

- it feels like he always stands or sits either 1) slightly too close and/or 2) directly across from me so he can stare at me the whole time. I can always feel his eyes on me and it makes me so nervous

- the first time he mentioned going on a date with this girl, I *almost* thought he was testing me to see if I was jealous. as usual, he was staring right at me when he said it, like he was trying to gauge my reaction or something. maybe I'm just crazy. probably

- even after having said all this stuff about how much he liked her, he was still hyper-focused on me the whole night, and when I mentioned how none of my friends are comfortable with physical touch and it's one of the things I crave and miss a lot, he looked at me with what I can only describe as this face 🥺 and said "I'll give you hugs" (among several other flirty things he did that night)

there's a lot more that I just can't think of right now. seeing it all written out makes it seem kinda flimsy but I really could have sworn he was being a lot more than friendly toward me on many many occasions. so anyway yeah. I guess we're just good friends and I should forget it and just try and act normal around him. I can't help getting a pit in my stomach when he's around now. I never used to act weird around him even though I definitely thought he was attracted to me but now I just feel... hurt and confused. I don't even know how to act anymore

as for our mutual friends who set him up with the girl (Madison), I don't harbor any resentment toward them at all. you're right, it was probably just a situational thing where they didn't really think about me. and Madison is such a good match for him it really does make sense that they set them up. that doesn't really make me feel any better though

and I of course still care about myself, this has just been a big blow to my self-confidence, especially since he's the first person I've even thought about in a romantic way since Eli. it seems like no matter how hard I try, I can't have romantic love, which I desire so so so much. even when I'm being friendly and accomplishing a lot and keeping up with my appearance and doing everything right AND when I feel like someone is showing all the signs of being into me, stuff still goes wrong. I wasn't in love or anything, but I really liked the idea of being with him. he's kind and responsible and involved in our church and comes from a really sweet family and has a million more incredible traits that I don't want to get into right now. I just wish things weren't always getting ruined.

more than anything I'm just mad at myself. I was stupid for thinking he was into me and deep down I know I'm stupid for hoping he still is and will realize it somehow. I'm a good person and I like myself but I couldn't compare to Madison in a million years. she's gonna be good to him and I know she'll make him happy, which is at least a little bit of a comfort. I do really just want him to be happy. at the end of the day he's one of my best friends. I'll get over it and deal with it quietly and with any luck he won't know.

thank you for being so kind and taking your time to write all of this to me. you're so encouraging and far too sweet to me and I appreciate it more than I can say. talk soon, friend. I love you

[datingadviceonreddit]

Here are some golden tips about getting a date and keeping your relationships strong and healthy. I’ve divided this into two sections, one for men and one for women. FOR THE MEN:Part 1: The Best You:The biggest hurdle you'll face in your seduction journey is trying to convince someone to invest in a product (i.e. YOU) that you don't believe in. Take some time and focus on you. Go to the gym, develop your style, work on building a life and lifestyle that you're happy with and proud of. It makes it so much easier to interact with women/people when you have an awesome life backing you up.A few quick style tips: It doesn't matter how you dress or what your style is; your clothes should always follow three simple rules: Clean, Neat, Fit. And remember, style is fluid, not stagnant. Sure shorts and a t-shirt are comfortable, but slacks and a button down are stylish. Change it up and dress for the occasion.You don't need a shit ton of money, the body of a greek god, or the face of a cover model. All you need is a positive attitude, confidence, and a little bit of "fuck it" to be successful with women.Discover your best features and use them to your advantage. I'm constantly complimented on my voice so I trained myself to speak in a tone/pace that makes people focus and pay attention. Once I have their attention, the rest is cake. Whatever your best feature is, learn to utilize and market it to your advantage.Part 2: Approaches:Smile. This not only makes you instantly more attractive, it eases tensions in others.There is no golden opener or perfect pickup line. Odds are, if you approach a random attractive woman, she knows why you're there. Just be authentic and genuine. The truth is that it doesn't matter what you say, but how you say it makes all the difference in the world. And at the end of the day, if she finds you attractive, it is less about saying the right thing and more about not saying the wrong thing.Approach is the goal. Don't focus on anything else. There are a dozen reasons you'll get rejected (IT WILL HAPPEN!), and 10 of them don't have shit to do with you. Just approach. "No" is always the answer to a question unasked.A.B.E. - Always Be Escalating. Not just in your approach, but in every step of your romantic interaction.Make her WANT to. Your job is not to try to convince or persuade her to do anything with you. Your job is to make her want to; want to give you her contact info, want to go out with you, want to kiss you, want to touch you, want to have sex with you, want to be with you. And when a woman wants, it's easier to give.Most importantly, always remember that you are inviting her to be a part of YOUR world, not asking for a place in hers. Women come and go. You are the only constant in your life. So invite her to be a part of it, and not the other way around.Part 3: Communication:Diversify your communication. Don't rely on just texts. Since one of my best features is my voice, I'll record a simple voice message and send it to her "Hey, I hope you're having a wonderful day. I really enjoy talking to you and I'd love to hear your voice later. Call me when you have some time to chat."This makes her WANT to talk to me.Throw in some pics (no dic pics guys) of you just out and enjoying life.Add a meme or two that describes your mood or day.Dig deep. Get to know her. Ask about her day, her life, her family, her hopes and dreams, her goals, her fears, her secret desires. Find out as much about who she is and what she wants as possible.Don't over share. Think of yourself as a nesting doll; share each doll sparingly. No one likes a simple puzzle.Part 4: Dating:Don't ask a woman "out". Instead, ask her to join you for something:"Have any plans Saturday?""Not at the moment.""Well, I'm going to go to X and do Y and I remember you mentioned you like X and Y, care to join me? Afterwards, maybe we can Z. I can pick you up or we can meet at (time)."Now, firstly, this eliminates "flakes" because A) You're doing it anyway and her attendance is not required for you to enjoy your life. And B) How she responds will let you know how to proceed. If she is non-commital, then retract your offer and move on. If she's down, you have plans.There are three dates that really matter: The Physical Date (something active that gets your blood flowing and heart racing), the Formal Affair (something that gives her a reason to dress up and show off), and the Intimate Setting (something private for just the two of you). How you interact on these three dates will tell you everything you need to know about each other.What I typically do is make the first date a physical one, the second a formal one, and for the third, I usually offer to cook her dinner at my place. 99.9995% of the time, this leads to Secci Tymes.(A quick note about dates: You don't have to spend a lot of money or try to impress a woman. One of my go-to dates when I was low on funds was a picnic in the park. Play some music, make a salad, get some fruit, maybe a bottle of wine, and just sit, chill, and talk. Bring a frisbee or a football)Learn to cook. You don't have to be a culinary master, but you should have at least a half dozen dishes under your belt; something with chicken, seafood/shellfish, beef/steak, and something vegetarian.Also, learn to bake. A man that can feed you well, satisfy your sweettooth, and fuck your brains out is always a keeper. Which leads us to...Part 5: Physical Escalation:Remember, you want to make her WANT to...One of the ways I do this is a pseudo-push/pull. Let's say I'm out with a woman having drinks at a bar. I'll get close, do something intimate and sensual (kiss her hand, caress her cheek), and then I'll move away. I wait until she comes to me, either closing the distance between us or reciprocating the intimacy. Then I take it to the next level. Rinse... repeat.You never want to make a woman feel like she's giving you intimacy. Instead, make her desire that intimacy and fulfill that desire.Part 6: Sex:There's no one way or "right" way to satisfy a woman. Every woman is different and while there are many commonalities, ultimately, you have to learn each woman's body in order to completely satisfy her desires.To that, learn to "listen" to her body; the way she moves, breathes, the noises she makes (or doesnt), the way she tilts her head, holds her breath, curls her toes, grips the sheets... these are all road markers to her pleasure.It doesn't (really) matter how big (or small) your dick is, it doesn't matter how good you are at oral (ok... that one kinda matters), what matters is your ability to read and gauge her pleasure and respond accordingly.A few Pro tips: Stamina isn't how long you can go without climax. Stamina is how long you can maintain the pleasure despite the climax. Go down on a woman for 20 minutes, have intercourse for five, and then go down on her again for another 35 minutes and when someone asks her how long she had sex, the answer wont be "five minutes", it'll be an hour.Always remember the FDL rule: She cums First, she cums During, she cums Last.And if she doesn't/can't orgasm, it doesn't mean she wont/didn't enjoy it, and it definitely doesn't mean you should focus or obsess over it. A woman's pleasure is just as much her responsibility as it is her partners. Some women have a hard time reaching climax. It's not you. Don't overthink it.Sex isnt just oral and intercourse. Sex is every intimate, sensual moment leading up to, including, and after intercourse. It's all those things you do, all those buttons you can press, that turn each other on. Don't focus on just the physical. If you can turn a woman on without touching her, she will follow you to the ends of the Earth.Toys are your friend!Dirty talk is a raunchy conversation. Don't just shout obscenities like a Touretts sufferer; ask questions, make comments, give instructions.Learn how to give a full body massage.Part 7: Transitioning Into Long Term Relationships:Don't focus on the goal. Sure, we all want the white picket fence scenario (or version of), but a relationship is a journey. Don't be the passenger in the car yelling "Are we there yet?" every few dates. Moreover, know what you want out of a relationship and a partner before seeking to have one. Looking for a relationship without knowing what kind of relationship you want/need is like going to the grocery store hungry; you'll wind up with a lot of crap with very little nutritional value.When you're ready.... really ready to commit to someone, go out for a drink and have a mature conversation about how you feel, why, and where you want the relationship to go, and ask them to share their thoughts and feelings, then proceed accordingly.Dont assume that just because you've been on six dates and had sex four times that you're in a relationship.Part 8: Additional Tips:Focusing on her is really #1. Not just how she reacts, but also the rhythm of her body. When you fuck her, let her set the rhythm first, then jump in and accentuate it, then lead. Escalate gradually, but keep the same rhythm. If she’s close to cumming don’t radically change what you’re doing. Focusing on her also means not focusing on you. By that, I mean that I suspect most people focus way too much on whether what they’re doing looks right (thanks, porn) and not enough on how it makes their partner feel.Learn some anatomy. There are more erogenous zones than you might realize. Make use of them. Learn where the g-spot is and what positions/angles work for your body to stimulate her in the right places.ASK HER. Be open and genuinely non-judgemental. Not only will you learn about what she likes (or dislikes), but you’ll encourage her to feel more comfortable. More comfort means less anxiety. It’s hard for guys to perform when we’re anxious, so why would women be any different?Talk about what you’re into. You’re not entitled to her saying “yes” to anything, but you might be surprised to find out how many women are interested in having a threesome or enjoy anal sex.Try to get her off with your fingers or mouth first. Takes off a lot of the pressure on your dick to perform, and you’ll perform better as a result.Chill out. It’s okay to laugh at things or take a water break. Not every time is going to be magical, so just try to make it a good time regardless. Incorporate some wacky shit occasionally. Try new things. That’ll keep your sex life fun.Practice kegels and self awareness/control. Being able to control when you cum (most of the time) is 100% worth it.Try and make her last orgasm a really strong one. Not always within your control (though easier if you get good at tip #7), but worth shooting for.FOR THE WOMEN:Be yourself. Those two words are what women should know about dating. Be yourself and that will lead to you finding a high quality man. Remember, you deserve nothing less than the best in relationships. via /r/dating_advice