#or he lacks spunk or has too much

[ladyelainehilfur]

I like that Reigen is dramatic, but as a person, he's actually not that emotional. He's over the top but he doesn't really tell people how he feels. And when he does, it's framed as a joke most of the time.

[teeth-farie]

Forty Year Old Virgin

Johnathon Ohnn/GN Reader

Notes: virginity, null spot, hole fingering, dry humping, clothed sex, kinda tribadism, spit, alcohol, spot being pathetic, 3.5k

☞. . . Seems like I’m back from my little hiatus!! I actually started writing this fic yesterday and it’s the FASTEST I’ve ever finished one. I blame the spot server I’m in

Johnathon Ohnn is thirty-eight years old. He knows this because he always liked celebrating his birthday, even if they got less eventful over the years. He still enjoyed the candles and the cake, he still enjoyed how his family would come together to sing for him and how his coworkers would sign a group card. 

Johnathon was thirty-seven when the collider exploded. He didn’t realize his birthday had passed until he looked at a calendar. And really, how pitiful was that? No candles, no cake, not even a sloppily signed card. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he craved normality.

It wasn’t long after that he met you, significantly younger and full of spunk. It made him feel a little youthful again, like he was back in that old dorm room at the shiny age of twenty. Admittedly he didn’t do as many fun things as you did at his age, he mostly studied and contemplated taking Adderall to get through his finals, but he digressed. 

But observing you made him realize just how many things he missed out on during his youth. Sure, he sneaked a couple of his dad's beers as a teen and broke some college lab equipment he wasn’t supposed to be touching, rebellious things like that, but that wasn’t truly living. 

Before, he thought his accomplishments would speak for him; his doctorates and files of studies, his collider. But now, as he watches and listens to the dramatic reenactments of your late teenage hood and early adult life, Johnathon begins to realize maybe science isn’t the end all be all of his life. He realizes that he never went to any parties in college, he never had a quarrel-filled romance his parents disapproved of, he never traveled outside of the country aside from work—and as his eyeless gaze flits downwards, taking in the sight that is you in incredibly short shorts, he realizes another thing. 

He’s never had sex, either. 

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, because he really desperately did, it’s more like he never got the chance. Between his academics that shot straight to the workforce and his lack of genuine attraction to anyone around him, it got put on the back burner. 

But now it’s all he can think about. 

He thinks about it when he watches your hands gesture wildly, the way they look so agile yet sturdy. He thinks about it when your shirts are low cut or rising up your midriff. He thinks about it when you stand close to him and all he can smell is you. He thinks about it when your hips shimmy to a song you like. He thinks about it when-

Ahem. 

He thinks. A lot. 

Johnathon has never had a quiet mind, that much is true. He’s never figured out whether or not it was a good thing, but considering how much material his brain has given him for lonely nights, it can’t all be bad. 

Well. That was before the collider blew his dick clean off too. Which was another thing on his long long list of ‘Is living still worth it? I’m not too sure.’ (Except now he finally has a pro on that list, thanks to you.)

He can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous, however, hearing you talk briefly about past flings and relationships. Although he couldn’t exactly distinguish whether or not he felt jealous of your experience, or jealous of the men in your stories. He knows he could be better, even if he had virtually no experience to go off of. Despite it all, he still thinks to himself that he could make himself into someone you wanted, someone good for you. (Though he does also wonder if that’s perhaps his newly inflated ego talking.)

Johnathon sighs and holds his head in his hands. His hand briefly falls through the hole in his face and comes out of his thigh. Regardless of what he thinks could happen and what could be, he knows deep down that you couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Still, a man is allowed to dream, right?

…

As it turns out, dreams do come true. 

Or at least a drunk, sloppy version of them. 

To be fair, Johnathon didn't think he still could get drunk, so it wasn't his fault that he was a bit heavy-handed with the bottle. It didn’t help that you were so influencing either, all too eager to dump the rest of your bottle down the hole in his face just to see where it’d go. Apparently, liquids dissolved down quickly in his voided body before they could emerge out of another hole. So, he drank. He drank because it was the first time he could feel any kind of normalcy, he could feel like he was human again. Unfortunately for him, he's still just as loose-lipped when drunk as he was before the collider incident. 

You swirl the foamy remnants of beer in your bottle, watching it swirl through the brown glass before swallowing it down with a tip of your head. Johnathon watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow, entranced. You breathe out, satisfied, and set the bottle down on the coffee table amongst all the others. 

“Y’know,” You begin, leaning back against the couch cushions, legs curled up comfortably to your chest. “You’re not as bad looking as you think.” You’re squinting your eyes a little at him, as if you were examining his body. “Lotsa people are into your kinda thing.”

Johnathon’s face hole constricts a little as if he were narrowing his eyes. “My kinda thing? What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“You know! Like…like not human looking.” You’re still looking at him, grinning, fingers picking at the hem of your pajama pants.

He makes a sound like a scoff. “That’s not really a compliment…”

You whine in subtle frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, you have different kinds of qualities. Good qualities.” You poke your finger out at him, jabbing his chest. Your fingertip sinks into one of his inkblot holes and it gives Johnathon a feeling that he knows he’ll be thinking about later tonight when he's all alone. You replace your finger to actually poke his chest now, the smooth, almost rubbery skin of him. He shivers a little nonetheless. 

“What…” he swallows thickly. “What kind of qualities?”

You continue to idly run circles over his chest with your index finger, humming softly to yourself. “I know the regular things, like how much of a good listener and talker you are. You know lots about stuff. And you also are like, super eager to please. That’s gotta be a good quality too.” 

Johnathon looks down at your hand, his black little heart thumping in his chest. It’s almost too intimate for him to bear. 

“Oh! And your holes!”

“My…my holes?”

“Yeah, I bet you can do some crazy things with them.”

“Oh god–” He nearly chokes at the thought running in his head.

“Yeah,” you continue, pulling your hand back to yourself. Johnathon hates how it makes him feel lonely. “I once met a guy who had crazy holes, haha, you could fit a whole fist in ther–”

“OH wow, really?” He quickly cuts you off, his paper-white face flushing a dull blue. He flaps his hands a little, as if it could cool down both his flustering and spiking jealousy. “I don’t think you should k-kiss and tell, right? Isn’t that a thing we’re not supposed to do? Kissing and…telling?” God, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss you. 

“Oh, c’mon! I know there has to be at least something you’ve done that you just gotta talk about. What is it, huh? Weird partner? Did they have a weird fetish?” You gasp suddenly. “Oh god, a pregnancy scare maybe?…pregnancy fetish?” 

“No, no, none of that!” Johnathon waves his hands out in front of him rapidly, hoping to quell your questioning. “I’ve never uh- never really–”

“What, are you vanilla? Usually, nerds are like, SUPER kinky–”

“I’ve never had sex!” Curse him and his loose lips. 

The air goes still amongst the sudden silence and Johnathon begins to regret ever speaking. Actually, scrap that, he regrets ever being born. Well, it’s actually not like he really had a choice in the matter, but that's beside the point.

Then, you snort a little. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? Aren’t you like, forty?”

His face hole shrinks down nearly to the side of a pinhole in both embarrassment and frustration. “I-I’m not forty! I’m thirty-eight! A-and besides, lots of people don’t have sex until they’re older! Or at all!”

“Oh my god, this is like that one movie, what’s it called, uhh,”

You tap your chin, completely ignoring him.

“I should have never said anything, I’m such an idiot—“

“No, don’t say that!” You poke his chest again, whining when he recoils from your touch. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I’m sorry.”

Johnathon huffs, grabbing one of the half-full bottles and dumping it down his face hole. It scrunches slightly in what you’ve begun to assume is swallowing. You pout and scoot up closer to him. “Johnny…” 

He chokes a little, his gangly body going stiff. “Y-yeah?”

You grab his face, fingers pressing against his pale, rubbery cheeks. “You wanna do it?”

For a moment, Johnathon feels like the world has gone still. Everything is muffled and slow as the realization dawns on him. “Wuh-what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You repeat, squishing his cheeks after each word like you were making him say them too.

“Yes! I-I mean, I would really like to, you’re so pretty, b-but uh, I’m a little, hah, how do you say it, ohmygosh this is harder than I thought it’d be! Uhm!” He flusters and rambles, hands flapping in front of his chest, and you’re just waiting. You’re looking at him with lidded, bedroom eyes, and Johnathon thinks he finally understands the meaning of that word. 

“I don’t have, I don’t have a penis!” 

A beat goes by, and then another, and he begins to feel like he blew his only shot with you.

“Do you have a vagina? It’s not an issue for me, I wanna fuck you either way.”

Jesus Christ, you are going to kill him. 

“I mean, I don’t have anything.” He breathes out, shoulders deflating. “The uh, the whole collider thing got rid of it all.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.” You pat his shoulder, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “But, y’know, the offer still stands…maybe we can get a little science-y and figure out how to get you off, eh?”

Johnathon lifts his head and finds you grinning at him. “Science-y?” He repeats, his face hole crinkling like a smile. 

“Yeah, dude! Science-y! Hypothesis! Theories! Quantum holes! Your holes!”

He snorts and it leads into a laugh, a deep belly laugh that he hasn’t been able to do in a while. And really, why the hell not?

His laugh dies down when you get closer, straddling his thighs and seating yourself down in his lap—and god, he can feel those short shorts he loves riding up your thighs and wrinkling against his skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You croon, leaning in and nudging your nose under his chin. If Johnathon still had a dick, that would have sent blood right down to it. 

His inkblot holes quiver amongst his body, undulating and jumping across his skin like microscopic particles, bouncing against each other under a microscope. Your face gets closer to his, lips hovering over the entrance of his face. Gently, curiously, you purse your lips and kiss the voided space. It’s almost as if there’s a thin membrane separating the outside world from the inside of him, cool to the touch and like bubblegum stretched thin. The membrane melds against your lips like it’s kissing you back and when Johnathon shivers, it puckers and purses. 

His hands tremble, hovering above your hips and thighs, as if it’d burn him to touch you properly, despite how much he craves it. 

Your tongue drags over the edge of his face hole and Johnathon practically whimpers. You’re humming softly, one hand idly stroking his arm as the other feels up his chest. He used to be a tad bit insecure about his pudgy torso, but with so many spots, he had other things to outweigh the worry. But now he can’t help but hold his breath, waiting for your approval of his body, the kind he so desperately needs.

“Cute.” You say mostly to yourself, dipping your fingers into a hole in his chest. He sighs out heavily in relief and pleasure, his head thumping back against the edge of the couch. 

“How’s this feel?” You poke and prod into the hole, pressing past the same kind of membrane as his face. Vaguely, you feel your fingertips come back out of another hole, but you don’t focus as much on that part. 

“Good,” Jonathan answers curtly, sucking a breath through his nonexistent teeth. When he exhales, it's shuddery and almost pitiful. “It’s good, it’s like- like there but not,” 

“So you can feel it? What if I do something like this?” Curiously, you curl your fingers in the empty space, and a fuzzy feeling coats your skin as if your fingers were pruning yet stayed completely dry. He yelps loudly, his body lurching and he finally grabs onto you. His fingers dig into your thighs on their own accord and you are absolutely delighted with it.

“Oh god!” He cries, his thighs shifting and squirming under your lap, and you start to feel something poking at your ass. You give a confused hum, lift your hips and look down. Nope, he still doesn't have a dick, but the empty space between his legs has seemingly swollen into a small, adorable bulge. Johnathon breathes out heavily and follows your gaze.

“Wow, that’s so cool…” You reach down between your laps and grind the heel of your palm against the bulge.

He gasps sharply. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s what I'm trying to do.” You snicker impishly. You observe the way the squishy bulge flushes with color around the surface, almost like a blush. “I bet that feels really good, huh? It’s kinda like you have a really big clit. Sorta” You squish it in your hands and he shudders, shoulders tensing and inkblot shrinking. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

Johnathon feels a little loopy, his stomach filled with butterflies and his brain thoroughly mush. He considers this endeavor so far to be successful considering the fact he didn't think he still could  feel pleasure. But here you are, proving him wrong once again. 

“Wh-what would?” He finds himself asking, rutting his hips up into your hand like a depraved little thing. 

You don’t answer verbally yet, just sit back down on his lap and rock your hips against his. “If you fucked yourself like this.” Your fingers curl back into one of his holes, running up and down the edge of it. Johnathon melts, blubbering out nearly unintelligible pleas. 

“You can do it, right? I’ll keep fingering you if you hump me like a dirty dog.” 

And oh, that does things to him. He’ll…have to address that new kink later. 

“Yes,” he gasps, grabbing on tightly to your hips and canting his hips up, grinding his bulge against your sex. “Yessss!” He can’t help but cry it out, his smooth head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck from the sheer intensity of it all. The heat of you is almost unbearable on his body, inside his holes. And he really is panting like a dog, he’s humping you like he actually has a dick to work with, like you could grab him and stroke him until he was a weeping mess. 

“That’s it, you don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, right? C’mon, show me what you’re made of, you little nerd.” You’re cooing to him like it’s praise, and with the way you’re stroking the inside of him, pressing your fingers past that membrane and curling until the fuzziness is almost unbearable, you might as well be.

Johnathon moans wetly against your neck, legs widening and hands holding your hips down firmly as he ruts. He grinds his aching core against you, practically delirious and melting with every saccharine whisper in his ear. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you hear him say, muffled against your skin and devious delight spreads through your entire being. You hook your fingers into the hole of his face and he cries out, a debauched “Ah! Ah!” as you lift his head up. His inkblot holes shiver violently, and you hold his face in your hands like he’s your entire world, like he’s the only thing that matters to you.

And then you lean in, holding his face so carefully—

And spit.

The man below you gurgles, your spit falling down the hole in his face as a viscous glob tasting faintly of beer. Johnathon thrusts his hips up once, twice, and he’s cumming. Nothing comes out of him, but you swear you can see the holes of him drooling, dripping liquid dark matter that hurts your eyes a little to stare at too long. Pleasure blooms in you at the sight and feeling of his incessant rutting, your hands petting his head as his first orgasm in so long washes over him.

And finally, he slumps back against the couch, trembling under you, the surface of his face flushed with color. You lift yourself off his lap, your shorts still wet with your own arousal, but you’re not done with him yet.

“It’s no good to leave your partner high and dry, you know?” You tease him, and the realization dawns on his faceless face. 

“O-OH! Oh, I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t mean- that wasn’t my intention at all! Wh-what should I do? What do you like? Oh god, I’m so sorry—“

You quiet him by lifting his gangly legs up, exposing him even further. “Don't worry about it, it’s your first time! That just means I’ll have to use you.” That evil little grin is back as you brace one foot on the floor and the other on the couch cushions, slotting your hips against his. Poor Johnathon is practically folded in half, one leg hanging over your shoulder and the other dangling uselessly to the side. 

You don’t waste any time either, you get right to it, hips thrusting quick and hard against his over sensitive bulge. And oh, how he squeals. He’s always been a talkative man, but he never could have anticipated being this vocal. 

“Uhgn! Hah! Mmm-mmph! I-I can’t! S’too much, too much!” He babbles on, sights locked on how your hips connect with his, ruthlessly grinding and rutting and it reminds him of some kind of wild animal. 

“You can, huff, take it. Jus’ a lil more,'' your head hangs low between your shoulders, arousal twining together deep in your gut. Johnathon feels it too, and he feels it tenfold. His body feels like it’s on fire, steadily submerged in pleasure until he’s burning alive in it. He can’t take how you look above him either, so goddamn ethereal, the dim overcast of the tv lighting you from behind like a digital halo, as if you were an angel sent to soothe him after such chaos. Johnathon was never a religious man, but for you, he thinks he could be.

It only takes you a little longer, already so wound tight from before. He’s dangling on the precipice of release again, delirious with lust, clinging onto the back of your neck and tugging you in.

You find your face inside of him when you cum, and somehow the deprivation of sensory makes it all the better, colors popping up in your vision like synesthesia. You can feel his thighs tighten around you with his budding climax, but you can’t see, and you already know how you regret that. You suppose you’ll just have to overstimulate him again one day when he can’t hide himself from your view.

Johnathon goes limp and you’re finally able to pull your face from the inside of his, the dark matter sliding free from your skin like an unsticky slime. It’s weird, but oddly refreshing.

Cum stains the inside of your shorts but it’s the last thing on your mind when you take in the visual that is Johnathon. He practically glows with post coital bliss, seeped back into couch cushions without the tension you’re so used to. 

You let his legs fall back down, slumping into the seat next to him. He hums softly in delight, kinda loopy, entirely pleased. 

“So?” You question him, idly stroking his soft chest. It’s sweaty in its own way. “Was that good for your very first time?” You waggle your brows at him and he snorts, albeit a little weakly.

“Incredibly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life.”

You clap happily. “And you’re no longer a forty year old virgin!”

“I told you I’m NOT forty!”

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can I get more bg3 yandere, maybe what starts the obsession with the reader? Punishments?

A/N: Yes, more yandere coming up! (Wasn’t sure if you were referring to just the baddies list I posted or the companions, so I went with the main companions this time.)

And apologies for the wait… This was one hell of a week.

Yandere!BG3: What Triggers Their Obsession 

Astarion: 

Astarion is drawn to your innocence. 

At first, he thinks it must be an act, for someone to be so kind and open around a vagrant group of misfits they just met. 

But once he understands that’s just who you are, he feels he must protect that innocence by taking it all for himself. 

After all, he deserves it, doesn’t he? After two hundred years of slavery, he finally gets to possess some kindness of his own. 

Because that’s what you’d show him, isn’t it? You’d love him, understand him, and treat him the way he so longs to be treated. And all he has to do… is make you his to get it. 

Ascended! Astarion: 

Ascended Astarion is drawn to your inner fire, the way you don’t submit when he demands you ‘bow’. 

Initially, he finds it rather amusing that such a helpless thing like you dare defy him. Then he becomes irritated before being overcome with righteous anger. How dare you continue to thwart his plans? You shall pay, indeed. 

He wants you begging, pleading on your knees for his mercy. He wants to be the only one with the power to grant such benevolence to you.  

You will know his name, you will know his power. Your insolence will not last long.

Gale: 

Gale is drawn to your inquisitive nature, how you always seem so fascinated by any knowledge he has to share. 

No one, not even his students, has ever looked up at him with those big doe eyes the way you do. 

You appreciate him, in a way no one’s ever appreciated him before. 

He’s always played second fiddle, to greater wizards, to his goddess, but not to you. Never to you. 

He needs you to need him. He wants your awe but should push come to shove, he’ll settle for your fear. 

Godhood! Gale: 

Godhood Gale finds you so impressively driven. Your bold choices and lack of apprehension call him to you. 

On one hand, he wants to empower you, to help you soar even further than your wildest dreams. On the other hand, he wants dominion over your confidence- he should be the one to grant it to you. You couldn’t possibly command your own destiny. He’s a God, after all, he should have reign of it. 

Just let him take control, he swears it’s only for your good. Gale would never overstep your boundaries. He swears on Mystra’s honor. 

Wyll: 

Wyll wants to protect and cherish you like he believes he’s always been destined to do. 

For him, he was always burdened with this great privilege of being a hero. And you, you are the thing that makes everything he’s ever endured or sacrificed all worth it. 

You need him to save you. Sure, you’re capable, and yes, you could make it on your own, but why make it harder than necessary? Why not just let the man who would lay down his life for you, honor you and take care of you for the rest of your days?

You’re so sweet. You’re such a light in these dark, dangerous times. Wyll will ensure you’re safely hidden away from all the danger that lurks beyond. 

If that means Wyll is all you know of the outside world, then so be it. 

Karlach: 

Karlach is drawn to your spunk, the conviction you must possess to keep on fighting.  

You remind her so much of her younger self, always eager, always ready for the next challenge. But alas, that’s what she fears. 

Her eagerness blindsided her to the truth about Gortash. She didn’t see what was coming until it was too late. She can’t let that happen to you. She won’t. 

Don’t you understand? No one else out there in the cruel, cruel world would tell you the truth. They are all self-serving and undeserving of your intentions. 

Karlach knows her conditions aren’t ideal, living in hell never is. But please, try to understand. 

A lifetime spent in hell at Karlach’s side is much, much safer than a world spent alone on the surface. 

Shadowheart: 

Shadowheart is drawn to your inexperience, your childlike innocence in which you believe all that she tells you. 

She was always being taught that obedience mattered over intelligence. She thought such a statement was wrong but then, you came waltzing into her life. 

You exemplify compliance. Every word, every thought she has you take to heart like gospel. 

For you, there shall be no gods, no goddesses, no Shar or Selune to worship. 

There will only be you and her. 

La’zel: 

La’zel, despite herself, is drawn to your kindness, your simplicity. 

She thinks you are weak, and undeserving of her affections, yet she feels the need to seize you and shield you all the same.  

Your flesh is soft, your heart is malleable, and your mind is guileless. Without her intervention, you would surely perish an otherwise avoidable fate. 

No. She must keep you away from the others, away from their grasp. 

It would be futile to try and navigate the world without her. 

[adobe-outdesign]

Nigel: The Muppets' Most Interesting Uninteresting Character

(This was supposed to be a fun little post about an obscure Muppet character but now I fell down a hole doing too much research and sunk cost fallacy won't let me live it down unless I include all of the useless information I've learned so enjoy knowing more about this character than you ever have or ever will want to know)

Nigel was created to be the host of the Muppet Show's Sex and Violence pilot instead of Kermit (who only appears in the pilot for like 30 seconds)

He was originally puppeteered by Jim Henson himself, giving him a vaguely Kermit-esq voice initially

Nigel Voice Count: 1

Nigel is a yellow... something. You’d assume he’s just a stylized human Muppet but in S4E18 Sam refers to him as a “thing”

He actually looks near-identical to a Fraggle minus the tail. I don’t know what to do with this information

Nigel was diagnosed with terminal Boring Personality disease due to the following attributes:

He’s very meek. Unlike Kermit, who will freak out and tell people they suck to their faces, Nigel raises his voice one (1) time and mostly relies on Sam the Eagle and Crazy Harry to deal with the assorted chaos

His face is flexible like Kermit’s, but he has permanently partially-lidded eyes that leave him looking exhausted in every scene he’s in

He’s generally unenthusiastic and seems like he wants to go home constantly

Jim Henson: The Works describes him as "lacking in spunk and charisma," which is hilariously cruel yet 100% accurate

What’s surprising at this point is that instead of scrapping him, he instead took on the role of orchestra conductor on the show proper, where he proceeds to do almost nothing for five seasons

The Muppets Character Encyclopedia actually provides a canon reason for this: Nigel lost the job of host due to his “shy manner”, and Kermit, feeling bad for replacing him, gave him his new job

He can technically be seen in basically every episode during the theme song, but aside from that, he often pops up in the chorus during songs

Which is funny when you consider he should be in the pit Doing His Job during those sequences

A quick list of his more important (if you can even call them that) appearances:

S1E2: He has Zoot play a song called “Sax and Violence” b/c pilot references

It’s actually implied the Mayhem falls under his jurisdiction as he threatens to fire Zoot, but this never comes up again

S1E24: Playing the part of a library patron noisily chewing gum (despite not having teeth. idk you figure it out). This one’s only notable because he’s wearing the same outfit from the pilot

S3E16: Nigel’s eyelids are not connected to the rest of his body and he’s facing backwards through the entire backstage segment so you’re uncomfortably aware of this

S1E23 has Floyd complaining that the theme song is cringe(TM), at which point it’s casually revealed that Nigel wrote it?? how is this character so important and unimportant at the exact same time

If you’ve seen this episode and aren’t deaf you might have noticed he has a completely different voice here. This is because John Lovelady has taken over as his puppeteer, presumably because Jim was busy Running The Entire Show

Nigel Voice Count: 2

Nigel has a talent for whistling, which is shown off in S2E18 during a performance with Floyd (this is the only time he comes on stage to perform that isn’t with a crowd)

He shows this off again in S4E18 to participate in the age-old sport of Annoying Sam the Eagle backstage

As of the 2011 movie Walter takes over as the show’s resident whistler because Nigel isn’t allowed to have character traits

He briefly shows up during the credits of The Muppet Movie (now puppeteered by Dave Goelz). Because of this, in the UK version of the end credits, he has another completely different voice

Nigel Voice Count: 3

After a brief background appearance in The Jim Henson Hour (S1E12), Nigel proceeded to completely disappear for 20 years

I’m guessing the reason was that his puppet was becoming unusable. The foam used for the muppets disintegrates over time, and his puppet was ~15 years old at this point

Things were particularly bleak for him in the 90s because Muppets Tonight came out with a new unrelated TV director character named... Nigel. Because Jim had passed away at this point and I think everyone working on the show literally Forgot they already had a character named that

Not that it would be that big of a problem, seeing as the chances of yellow Nigel returning were bleak. who was gonna spend time and money rebuilding an incredibly minor background character like him

TRICK QUESTION because he was rebuilt for The Muppets (2011), which is pretty amazing when you consider that he does Nothing during this movie

The new puppet looks pretty similar to the old one. I think the face is a bit rounder/more structured but I could also be losing my mind

(Side note: shoutout to whoever decided to give him a scarf in this scene. that’s such an unnecessary detail)

What’s great is that now that the puppet’s been rebuilt he’s shown up in a lot of stuff because they have no reason not to include him. Some of the more notable examples include:

The music video for OK Go’s cover of the theme song (which I certainly hope he would show up in I mean. it’s his song)

In the live shows (The Muppets Take the Bowl and The Muppets Take the O2) there’s a parade of overlooked characters, which includes Nigel. I just find it funny that:

A) The writers fully acknowledge that he’s King of the Background Characters

B) The in-universe implication that Kermit was like “no one knows who you are, wanna be in a parade celebrating that fact” and Nigel was like “okay”

His most recent appearance was in Muppets Haunted Mansion, where he’s dead (don’t worry about it). More importantly, he gets an entire shot to himself conducting some skulls, which I think is the first time the camera’s been focused solely on him in literally 40 years. Good job, buddy!

Here’s some other misc appearances that I couldn’t fit elsewhere:

He appears alongside Jim and a few other Muppets in a 1977 commercial for American Express (once again wearing his pilot outfit), which is particularly strange considering he’s the only character there that used to be puppeteered by Jim

In 2010 he got a somewhat important role in the first issue of Muppet Sherlock Holmes, playing the part of a butler suspected of poisoning the head of the house

He gets one whole page in The Muppets Character Encyclopedia from 2014 (right next to other Nigel). In addition to the aforementioned info bridging the gap between the pilot and the show proper, it also states that he’s susceptible to hypnosis and he trained at the Tommy Newsom Academy for Music and Charisma

In terms of future projects: there is both a Jim Henson biopic and documentary coming in the future (side note: why???), so it’s possible he might be discussed briefly in one of those

I have no thesis statement or reason for writing this, but I guess I’ll close out by saying that I find it fascinating that a failed main character from a pilot episode is still appearing in recent Muppet productions but solely as a background character. I hope that in 2073 I can put on some Muppet media and Nigel will still be there still doing absolutely nothing

thanks for coming to my TED talk

[rawmeknockout]

Let's turn that one ask that one time into a request! Megatron fucks the readers face while Cyclonus pounds them from behind!

It's ridiculous to expect them to be gentle; not for lack of trying. They're just far too big to be careful enough, no matter how they try. The eagerness with which you threw yourself between them, throwing caution to the wind in favor of instant gratification, also didn't help. You gag on Megatron's spike when you move too quickly, not even a third of the way down the length and wide enough you can hardly fit your hand around it. His huge, blocky digits cup the back of your head, helm tilted back and optics shuttered. The furrow of his brows only further accentuates the aged lines in his faceplate. The discomfort from his spike is bearable at least, as you pull back to pepper kisses over the tip.

Cyclonus bears down on you with berth-shaking force, his clawed servo holding you against him with little effort while the other tears into the mattress. Unlike the mech in front of you, Cyclonus is eerily silent. The most you hear from him is the rumble of his engine, the occasional grunt when your body squeezes around him so tightly he has trouble pulling away. Trapped between the two imposing mechs, bookends of purple and grey steel. Your body rocks between them, your open mouth pushed further onto Megatron's spike as Cyclonus thrusts into you. Your moans are muffled by the Captain's mesh, segments catching on the tight seal of your lips.

When your small hand strokes over the remaining length of Megatron's spike, his hips lift from the berth and his knees furl towards his chest. He struggles not to fuck into your mouth, mouth open around his in-vents and hushed groans. His large servos are heavy against the back of your head, nearly keeping from you pulling off his spike just in time for him to overload. His transfluid paints your face and neck, too much for you to have swallowed it all. You weren't really looking forward to drowning in robot alien spunk, anyway.

Cyclonus gently tugs your head to the side, leaning down to lick away a dribble of Megatron's transfluid. Said mech lets out a strangled sort of noise from his chest. You feel more than see Cyclonus' slight smile against your cheek, body curled close over you despite his massive size. Oh, this mech is going to kill you.

[goodshipskypirate]

Garl's scar was foreshadowing, a harbinger to his eventual fate. It was the first sign that he wasn't Zale or Valere, the gifted chosen children of Solstice. Garl's entire background was that he was, by all account, ordinary. In most RPGs, he'd fill in the neutral slot with often middling gameplay and story functions, forever outshone by characters with flashier powers, appearances, and personalities.

But Garl didn't want that. He wanted to go be with his super special friends. He wanted to help them in their goals. And importantly, he wanted to prove he was capable and worthy of being in a grand adventure, that an average person could strive to be so much more when they have the drive and fortitude. And with flying colors, Garl did all that, as well as inspiring dozens of people all over the globe.

The world is poorer for having lost Garl.

And this had been something I had dreaded the more I played. His optimism, determination, and kindness meant he was always going to be the heart of the group. But it also meant he was without sin. There's not an ounce of envy, resentment, or betrayal in his bones; a perfect cinnamon roll whom everyone loved.

The type of character who was ripe for sacrifice and all the heart-wrenching emotion that came with it, right down to a red herring fake out where the game makes you think Garl is in danger when the Dweller of Woe nearly kills him (another demonstration of his vulnerability as The Ordinary One.)

I had to sit down and think about this for a bit. There was a part of me dreading that something like this was going to happen. That the one who was going to die, to be the catalyst for all the emotional woe and motivation to get our heroes to the final fight, would hinge on the passing of the purest soul in the game. It's almost comical how kindhearted he was that the only way he could continue was through death. Too good for this sinful Earth. Hell, even Aerith had a trollish spunk to her that purposely counteracted her supposedly "pure" aesthetic.

And I wondered how fair that was. That Garl, whose only fault was that he was too nice, gets to die. Out of all the playable characters, the one who perished was the normal one. And I thought, is that not counterintuitive to what Garl wanted to achieve: to be exceptional and have decades of adventure under his belt? To prove he's not some drag who cannot keep up? To rise above from any ol' village NPC and make a name for himself as someone greater than his humble origins? Why was he denied a long life in favor of the more fanciful characters? Why does a nice boy like him buy the harp farm? Why couldn't this ordinary guy survive till the end as a testimony to his inner strength, to show that someone who doesn't have special powers or extraordinary skills, can still see the sun rising after the final fight.

It feels cruel.

But the thing is, it's not how Garl feels. Because he so embraced life to its fullest from day one, even dying at such a young age did not feel wasteful to him because he set out to achieve everything he ever wanted: he got to help his friends, he got to have adventures and earn respect from everyone around him. His final act is what pushes Zale and Valere to give them the confidence to strive forth and take on Erlina and the Fleshmancer.

To Garl, not a single thing about his purpose was meaningless.

Yeah, I think the game did lack a bit for not diving into the injustice of his death. It's not that the game didn't acknowledge it: Zale and Valere were aghast that their buddy was dying because they know it's not goddamn fair. But there's never any internal dilemma or any vulnerabilities where Garl is allow to admit that he is scared of dying. The game doesn't allow him to sit down and cry.

Maybe Garl is just that cheerful that he readily accepts, but I wouldn't put it past him to maintain a united front for the sake of his friends. Maybe he kept his fears deep inside. It's shitty he has to sacrifice so much of his own emotions and physical well-being for his friends, but to Garl, he knows they are the only ones who can save the world. In-universe, Garl will do anything for the sake of his loved ones.

I've jokingly mentioned a few times how we don't deserve someone like Garl, but that's wrong. That implies humanity is unworthy to have someone so wonderful in their lives. Garl would never want you to feel that way. No, we deserve a Garl in our lives because he represents hope. He is a bright light in a constant wave of darkness, an unwavering being of active positivity. Countless times when people were either down or passive, Garl was the one who lifted them up and told them what they were capable of. He believes so much in everyone.

I can't really say the way his death was arranged and handled plot-wise sat well with me, but for Garl, he was always at peace because he lived.

And maybe that's enough.

[msfbgraves]

Terry's problem with him is that he lacks ambition. He wants him out of the kitchen more often!

…

I’m getting conflicting signals here. Terry wishes he was more ambitious, but to do what? Involve himself in the mob/business more? And…do what exactly there? At the same time, Terry seems to love having Daniel stay at home with their puppies and likes that he’s made the house into a home and is so good at it. Plus, he’s safe and content at home, and Terry hates to have him in vulnerable situations, as well as go out too much.

Does Terry want him to have a job or something? But I also feel like Terry loves being the head of the household (he is), and wants Daniel available for (him) whenever. Besides, Daniel, for all his sass and spunk, strikes me as someone who thrives on being a house omega, this world’s version of the traditional housewife. And he seems so good at it too! Like some sort of model omega or something, haha.

Well, Nonnie, you can conquer to expand your empire, and you can marry with that goal. Daniele LaRusso- LaRusso!- is insanely well connected, has the Don eating out of his hand, could influence Michael if he wanted to,his sister is a spy for all Terry knows... And he's like "Nope, I'm making linguini, I'm not asking Pop for shit, figure it out." Terry can have his world, but Daniel is not going near business, and the Don and Michael are certainly not going to throw Terry any bones. It's a world of wasted potential but Daniel won't budge.

Nothing is for free and this is the price Terry pays for his idyll at home.

[syrupsyche]

⭐ i'd love to hear your director's commentary on how marius won the hand :D

THANK U for the ask!! You probably already read my dir. commentary on Ch. 5 and Ch. 6 of How Marius Won the Hand [...], so I'll jump back and do a commentary on Ch. 4 of the fic!

I confess: I had no idea what to name Courferre so I picked the two names I feel I've heard the most often when it came to fan-assigned names. And not to give any spoilers, but Courfeyrac's name will come into play again in the future!

Also not to pull a Hugo but I wanted to emphasize how pretty Cosette was lol. Needed to give her and Enjolras some physical similarities first (beauty, etc.) before some spiritual similarities later on in the story!

Cosette canonically loves to tease Marius! See:

Ten years later, with the love of Marius in her heart, she would have answered: “A pedant, and insufferable to the sight! You are right!” (4.3.7)

“Monsieur, you are handsome, you are good-looking, you are witty, you are not at all stupid, you are much more learned than I am, but I bid you defiance with this word: I love you!” (4.8.1)

“Don’t cough, sir; I will not have people cough on my domain without my permission. It’s very naughty to cough and to disturb me.” (4.8.1)

And so I needed Cosette to have her spunk here as well!

Ninny mention!! *cue cheers and applause* Wanted the Valjean reveal to be Hugo-esque ("omg who could this mysterious old man be 🤭") and I'm glad ppl noticed it! Also, Valjean hates Marius so much that I NEEDED to include it, though I suppose Ch. 6 is a lot more obvious with it.

Pilf wrote an excellent post about what Valjean's dynamics with the Amis would be like. Though the context in this fic is quite different (Courferre + Marius having to gain Valjean's favour) but I still think it fits! Courfeyrac would be far too Courfeyrac-ish to gain Valjean's immediate liking, in contrast to Cosette who would love Courf immediately (which only just worsens Courfeyrac's standing). Combeferre, however, is able to stick to safer topics! They're just Two Polite Men. This fic has also only just hinted at Enjolras' and Valjean's father/son dynamic so far but it's very close to Pilf's post on it too. They do not talk to each other at ALL; they will sit in silence together for hours and enjoy it. That's their father/son bonding time babey!

A call back to an earlier part of the chapter when Marius tried to make sure that "his palms were not slick with sweat". Mission failed!

I like to write Courferre stumbling over each other trying to impress Cosette. Idk I just feel like they have that sort of energy à la Tulio and Miguel from The Road to El Dorado.

I'm really glad ppl liked this scene ehe. How did Marius drink soup with a fork? Just part of his Pontmercying shenanigans I suppose.

Cosette being shocked at Enjolras taking her hand is the same energy as someone getting shocked when a particularly introverted cat suddenly comes up and sits on their lap. I hc that Enjolras isn't a very tactile person (which could be canonically derived from his only-two-kisses moment), so Cosette appreciates any physical displays of affection she can get!

I argue that the main thing Marius lacked in canon that could have given him a proper 'character development' was the belief that he could have a solid support system outside of bourgeois circles. He was so close to connecting with Les Amis de l'ABC but he ultimately fell back into a self-deprecating hole once his world views were challenged. In this fic I hope to get Marius to reconnect with Les Amis on a personal level first (via Cosette and Enjolras) before attempting to push him towards connecting with them politically (and he's already beginning to, in Ch. 5!).

And it's no surprise that the first person he reaches for when he realises that he DOES have actual friends is Courfeyrac! Writing this fic and rereading les mis letters has got me in my Courfius feels; Courf was such a good friend to Marius and (fic spoilers?) is definitely deserving of being his chief groomsman!

—

And that's it for my Ch. 4 analysis! Sorry for the late answer lol; immediately after reblogging the post I got thrown 5 different assignment deadlines.

If anyone wants any other fic analysis (or even an AU analysis as a whole!) feel free to ask! I'm only one message away from blabbering like an idiot <3.

[elliepassmore]

What the River Knows review

4/5 stars Recommended if you like: Egypt, Death on the Nile, archeology, adventure Thank you to Netgalley, Wednesday Books, and the author for an ARC in exchange for an honest review! I really wanted this to be 5 stars. The premise is so intriguing and Egypt has so much interesting history, both on its own and in relation to archeology. Unfortunately, this is a book where I'm not really sure how I feel about it, so it's 4 stars right now but might drop down later. The first half of the book lives up to expectations. We get Inez traveling to Egypt and using her wits to tag along on her uncle's excavation. I loved the descriptions of Cairo and the Nile and Phillae. There's so much culture and lush imagery, it's easy to become engrossed in the setting and story. Unfortunately, after that the plot doesn't focus as much on archeology and Egypt as it should. We do get multiple excavation/temple/tomb scenes, but I wanted more of them. I wanted a true exploration of being on an archeological site and discovering these big things and worrying over tomb raiders. Instead, we get more focus on personal relationships (or lack thereof). The story was also fairly predictable. I wasn't entirely sure at first, but once Inez got to Cairo I felt more certain of what I suspected. Then, later on when the first half of my theory was revealed, it was also immediately obvious that the rest of it was too and I got to sit with a feeling of utter dread while Inez just went with things despite the signs pointing to a bad conclusion. That being said, I can actually understand why Inez didn't question things as much as she should've, and why when she did question things, she dismissed her own instincts. Like, honestly, I think anyone probably would in that situation. This is one of the few cases where I think things being predictable for the reader and not for the character actually makes sense...I just wish the predictability was less subtle so I didn't have to spend 30% of the book waiting for the other shoe to drop. One thing that really bothered me was that the whole mess with the grave goods was framed as being wholly Inez's fault. Like, was she being extremely dumb? Absolutely. Is it understandable? Also yes. And is it especially understandable because her uncle kept lying to her and hiding the truth? 100%. Half of the mess would've been avoided if Tío Ricardo had simply told Inez what he'd suspected and dealt with the potential fallout of that. Instead, he kept secrets and lied (and it was fairly obvious this was setting up to be a miscommunication trope) and then got angry with Inez when she didn't magically know who their enemies were. Not just him, Abdullah also got upset with her, though not as much as Tío Ricardo....but Abdullah also wasn't telling her shit. Like, a single conversation in Cairo, as upsetting as it would've been, would've literally circumvented this whole thing and instead everyone blames Inez. As for the characters. Inez is great in the first half of the story. She's got a lot of spunk and a desire for the truth. She's fairly good at getting herself in and out of any situation, which comes in handy. But for someone so interested in Egypt, she doesn't really seem to know that much about it. I actually liked Isadora, and I'm not really sure what Whit's problem with her is (though I'm sure it will get revealed in book 2). She and Inez make a formidable team and I would've liked to see them interact more. Her dad can be awful and kind of gruff, but Isadora seems to manage him fairly well. Whit is...mainly annoying, imo. Inez wants the two of them to be friends, and while they're in Cairo he seems fairly normal, but so much of the story involves him being secretive or lying or just being annoying and pushing Inez away. It gets frustrating after a while. We also get to see things from his POV, but they're mostly small snippets and single scenes. I think it would've worked better if we'd gotten chapters or half-chapters from his POV or if it had been excluded altogether. Some of his POV scenes provide helpful information, but the way it's written now it mostly just seems like he has a POV because Ibañez couldn't figure out how to provide the information any other way. Tío Ricardo had the potential to be a fantastic character. The first scene where they're all at dinner makes him seem really promising, and it definitely appears as though he cares about Egyptian history and the injustices being wrought by the British and French. However, a lot of that is overshadowed by how secretive he is and just downright awful he can be to Inez. He sort of redeems himself toward the end and shows that he truly cares about her, but it still doesn't make up for the rest of the book. I didn't realize that this book was part of a duology. I thought it was a standalone like her previous book. This book really didn't need a sequel. The way it stands now, there's obviously things left unfinished that require a sequel, but if the book had been cleaned up a little, I really think a full story and arc could've been told within the one book. Certain parts of the book are dragged out and probably could've been cut in favor of finishing the story satisfactorily. And honestly, what's left of the plot doesn't really feel like it could fill a whole second book. Also, what was that ending? Things were already fine without that INEZ FELL FOR IT note. It adds a layer to the story that it absolutely does not need. There are already so many complicated relationships and crossing and double-crossing, the book doesn't need more. I was actually somewhat interested in a sequel before reading the epilogue, but once I read it just kind of felt 'meh.' It's too much going on and I'm not really interested in seeing more of Inez getting lied to and then falling flat on her face when everyone else's lying is revealed.

[forthegothicheroine]

One of my favorite negative reviews

I can’t find a full text of it online, so I’m going to copy out some big chunks of Stephen Hunter’s retrospective on Gone with the Wind, which apparently resulted in lots of angry letters to the editor.

Long, stupid, ugly and, alas, back for the sixth time (in theaters, innumerable television showings have preceded this rerelease), it is probably the most beloved bad movie of all time, as its adjusted box office gross of $5 billion makes clear. If you love it, that is fine; but don’t confuse its gooeyness, its spiritual ugliness, its solemn self-importance, with either art or craft, for it boasts none of the former and only a bit of the latter. It is one of the least remarkable films of that most remarkable of American movie years, 1939. In fact, far from being one of the greatest American films ever made, I make it merely the twenty-eighth best film of 1939! It may not even have been the best movie that opened on December 15, 1939! It is overrated, overlong, and overdue for oblivion.

Of the various characters and actors:

It’s profoundly misogynistic...the secret pleasure of the film is watching Scarlett O’Hara being punished for the sin of selfhood. The movie delights in her crucifixion, even to the point of conjuring the death of a child as apt punishment for her ambitions. Her sin, really, is the male sin: the pride which goeth before the fall...

Leslie Howard was a great actor and a brave man, who raced home to join his unit when World War II broke out, thereby missing the famous December Atlanta premiere. He was killed in 1943 when the Nazis shot down a plane he was in. Let us lament him as we lament all the men who gave their lives to stop that evil. That said, the truth remains that on screen, he was a feathery creature, best cast as the foil to Bogart’s brutish Duke Mantee in The Petrified Forest, where his cathedral-abutment cheekbones gave him the look of an alabaster saint in the wall of an Italian church. But he was about as believable as a sexual object as he would have been as Duke Mantee...

The wondrous Olivia de Havilland was an actress of spunk and pizazz, and she gave as good as she got, even across from such hammy scene stealers as her longtime costar Flynn. But she, too, is trashed by Gone with the Wind as sugary Melanie Wilkes, a character of such selfless sweetness she could give Santa Claus a toothache.

Of the film as art:

Too much spectacle, not enough action. David O. Selznick, who produced the film and rode it to immortality, didn’t understand the difference between the two. Thus the film has a fabulous but inert look to it; the story is rarely expressed in action but only in diorama-like scenes. It is curiously flat and unexciting. Even the burning of Atlanta lacks dynamism and danger; it’s just a dapple of flickering orange filling the screen without the power and hunger of a real fire. And the movie’s most famous shot- the camera pulling back to reveal Scarlett in a rail yard of thousands of bleeding, tattered Confederate soldiers- makes exactly the wrong point. It seems to be suggesting that Scarlett has begun to understand that the war is much bigger than she is. And yet she never changes. The shot means nothing in terms of character; it’s an editorial aside that really misleads us.

Of the film’s message:

From its opening credits, which characterize the South as a lost land of lords and ladies, to its final images of Tara nestling among the Georgia dogwood, the movie buys into a myth that completely robs the region of its truth. Love it or hate it, it’s a land (as Faulkner knew) in which the nobility of its heroism lived side by side with the ugliness of its Original Sin: slavery. I’m not attacking the South here, just Margaret Michell and Selznick’s version of it. Other movies or 1939 were beginning to find the courage to express some subtle ideas. One of them was John Ford’s Young Mr. Lincoln.

Of its comparison to other 1939 movies:

I found 797 titles from the year 1939, had seen fewer than a tenth of them, and even on that small list there were 27 that struck me as fundamentally better than Gone with the Wind, movies that I would watch again with utter delight. They are: Allegheny Uprising, Another Thin Man, Babes in Arms, Beau Geste, Confessions of a Nazi Spy, Dark Victory, Dodge City, Drums Along the Mohawk, Golden Boy, Gunga Din, Juarez, The Light that Failed, Made for Each Other, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Ninotchka, Of Mice and Men, The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, The Real Glory, The Roaring Twenties, Stagecoach, The Story of Alexander Graham Bell, The Three Musketeers, Union Pacific, The Wizard of Oz, The Women, Wuthering Heights, and Young Mr. Lincoln.

Dammit, my dear, I’m just being frank.

[seventeendeer]

I'll admit that Chris Pratt as Mario was the one part of the trailer that didn't work for me, but everything else really did have quality to it. Jack Black had the perfect balance of threatening Bowser and campy Bowser, the animation was exactly what I'd hope a Mario movie would look like, and it's clear there's a lot of passion in the project, to the point where they even incorporated Mario creatures that aren't as well-known and mainstream. I don't think it deserves being entirely ragged on just thanks to one lackluster part.

I’m afraid I have to disagree! Chris Pratt Mario is easy to rag on because it’s exactly as awful as predicted and ties into an existing awful trend in current animated movies (also Chris Pratt sucks as a person), but I also think it's just ... the most obvious symptom of an issue strewn all throughout the trailer.

It lacks soul. Sure, the character models are up to the industry standard and the color work is very good and there’s nothing immediately artistically offensive about it, but it’s just so lackluster. The characters’ lines and body language are completely to-the-point, have no individuality or spunk, no flavor. There’s no word play, no slang (made up or real), no distinct speech patterns. All the characters’ lines sound like they came directly out of 11 other movies from the last decade. The body language accomplishes getting across some very basic emotions, but again, everyone moves the same, there’s no sauce on there, it’s just “character is scared,” “character is excited,” “character is surprised.” Bowser’s character acting while talking is also very awkward and janky (reminder that Hotel Transylvania, a similarly badly written but EXTREMELY well-animated CGI movie came out TEN YEARS AGO).

On the subject of Bowser, I also think Jack Black was a very poor choice for him. Yeah, he can do the voice rumble, but it has no depth, no reverberation. It’s generic.

It’s not just Chris Pratt Mario that sounds flat and lifeless, even though he is definitely the worst offender - everyone, from Toad to Luigi to the penguin guys at the beginning, all literally just sound like Some Guy.

Which becomes a problem when “tiny cute cartoon animal sounds like a grown human being” was supposed to be a joke at the beginning! The joke doesn’t land when every other character sounds like that and it’s not meant to be funny!

This being another problem. It’s not funny or has an interesting plot teased? They tried to crack some jokes, but they were regurgitating common cartoon gags that were done to death a decade ago. It was some Ice Age 4 style comedy. And with the generic plot threads introduced, the trailer really had nothing going for it except “please come look at our movie, it has some nice special effects!”

As for using lesser-known Mario characters ... I’m sorry to say, but that’s a really common marketing tactic for this era of big franchise movies. A really basic, generic plot front and center so newcomers to the franchise can keep up with the plot, with these little nuggets of “remember this obscure guy or thing?!” for longtime fans to point at and go “oh yes I remember that guy or thing!!” It isn’t evidence of passion, it’s evidence of the creators knowing how nerd fandom operates and taking advantage of people’s sincere affection for their favorite stories.

I love bad movies and I don’t fault anyone for being excited about the Mario movie, but it’s disheartening to see people hyping up these soulless cash grabs just because franchise movie creators have caught onto which levers to pull to make fans swallow their garbage without complaining too much.

It was the same thing with the Sonic movies. They have basically nothing to do with the Sonic franchise, even the main character is completely divorced from the thematic context he was born out of, but tons of people love it just because it’s superficially “heartwarming” and more or less manages to dodge some of the obvious problems of other family films in the same genre.

Again, I’m not saying no one’s allowed to like these movies. But how anyone can look at the Mario trailer or the Sonic movies and call them good adaptions ... is beyond me.

The Mario and Sonic games’ stories aren’t good because there’s a guy named Mario in overalls and a blue hedgehog named Sonic who save the day in each their silly little way, they’re good because of their unique themes and ideas. Mario’s story is appealing because it’s quirky, energized, full of weird places and weird people that are nothing like any big blockbuster movie. Sonic’s story is all about environmentalism and anti-capitalism! Sonic stands for a green future! These traits are the heart and soul of the franchises these movies are trying to adapt, it’s what makes them good, but mainstream movie producers don’t care about any of that. They just put the funny-looking guy on the screen, try not to piss off any parents or long-time fans too much, then wait for money to start rolling in.

Besides, Mario’s only two defining character traits are “Italian” and “plumber,” and I do think it says a lot that even getting those two things right was too much effort for Illumination. The sheer balls it takes to look at a massive franchise like Mario and decide to change 50% of the most recognizable traits of its main character are astounding. Maybe it would be stupid to trash the movie over a single miscast voice ... but when it’s the main character? When said miscasting takes away one of his two character traits? That’s not nitpicking, that’s identifying an underlying problem with the production process, that is, a lack of interest in the very franchise they’re trying to adapt.

Nintendo has more money than god. They should be able to get a hold of an animation studio that can do more than just make pretty special effects and look up obscure characters on a fan wiki.

I don’t want a Mario movie that’s more or less non-offensive, I want a Mario movie that’s good. I want a Mario movie that understands the property it’s adapting. We have got to stop patting big blockbuster movies on the back for doing the bare minimum.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

To bury a hatchet

---

Pairing: Obiwan x reader

Contents: Obi wan biker aesthetic. Enemies to lovers 😌

Warning: none. A little angst.

Word Count: 3100

---

---

You walk shoulder to shoulder with Anakin who was cracking jokes about his latest mission. You and him were tasked with chasing down a thug that was planning to sell Intel on the republic to a separatist ally. You held your helmet firmly in your hands, the landing platform only a few feet away.

You never enjoyed riding a speeder, so your mind was beginning to get anxious. However your trust in Anakin’s skills seemed to ease the anxiety. But it only shattered when you saw a figure leaning against the only speeder in sight.

You harboured a mild dislike for him. His whole ‘too good to be true' and ‘I’m incredibly perfect' outlook did not set well with you. This mission was supposed to be fun and Anakin knew how to have fun. This had only taken a turn for the worse. Anakin straightened at the sight of his master. “Master Kenobi, what are you doing here?”, he questioned to which the man took notice of you before answering his student. “Chancellor Palpatine has requested to meet you.”, he looked at you before his gaze moved away. “Again.”, you heard the suspicion in his tone. “I am to take your place in this mission – you huffed and folded your arms “As much as it might be a cause of dislike for some people.”, he folded his arms as well.

Anakin looked at you an apology already on his face. “This is unexpected, I’m sorry that I need to leave you with him.”, he spoke with a smile playing on his lips. “And what is wrong with him?”, the other Jedi asked. “I’m  just not interested in working with a goody two shoes sort of individual.”, you rolled your eyes. “Just come back in one piece both of you.”, Anakin threw caution to the wind as he walked away leaving you alone with him.

“From the time we were padawans, I do not understand why you hate me?”, he said not willing to move away from the speeder so you can take the driver’s seat. “Because you think you’re better than everybody else, no wonder your padawan is much better with the ladies than you.”, you say as you put on your helmet. “You lack spunk.”, you tell him as you struggle to find the clasp. “The boy can hardly grow a beard and you’re saying I lack spunk?”, he reached out and fastened the strap for you. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”, you tell him and his gaze locks with yours. “What? Being nice when all you’ve been is mean?”, he scrunches his brows. “Well don’t be nice.”, you push away his arm. “You want me to be bad instead?”, he questioned his face mixed up between confusion and amusement. “As if”, you laugh as you reach for the handle when he stops you. “I’m driving.”, he states and before you could react he settles into the seat leaving you the passenger seat behind him.

You reluctantly get behind him leaving as much space as you can between him and you. He started the speeder. “So if I had a  ‘bad boy charm' would that make you hate me less?”, he asked but you were distracted by the vacant depth below you full of traffic. “Well it’s worth a shot.”, you say focused on the other zipping speeders and ships below. He hummed.

The next thing you remember is gripping onto the bar behind you as he dove into the depths below, then pulling up to cut through a line of traffic. “You’re the worst driver ever.”, you shout. You only hear him laugh as he plummets again. Your stomach almost at the verge of twisting, then he takes a sharp turn. You were still on the right track, but he was only taking pure pleasure from this. A moment later, he pulled up in a steep climb. Then dropped again as he barreled the vehicle all while staying completely in control.

 You give up, you throw your hands around him holding on to him for dear life, burying your face into his back. “I’m sorry.”, you shout. “You’re what?”, he yells back. “I’m sorry. I liked it when you were nice.”, you shout and immediately feel the vehicle steady itself. You don’t let go, your heart beating rapidly as you took deep breaths to calm yourself down. He felt firm to hold, his muscles flexing under your touch beneath his robe. His cologne was pleasant, that by inhaling the scent you felt at ease.

He'd been meaning to get you alone for a while, his mind always pestering him to find the cause of your disdain. That you always found a way to hate him when he couldn’t even begin to understand what he had done wrong. This only brought him closer to you, trying to use every opportunity as a means to find an answer. But it didn’t help that you openly chose to favour his padawan over him. You would laugh around Anakin and all he got were stares. He would feel a tear in his soul anytime you gave Anakin a hug or chose him for a mission, it became such a distraction that even Master Yoda picked up on it during one council meeting. It wasn’t fair that you had exiled him without even giving him a reason.

“Alright, you can open your eyes now.”, he told you but your hands dug deeper into the fabric on his chest, closing your eyes shut as you heard his heartbeat. “No.”, you tell him. “Ok if you open them now, you can go back to saying mean things about me”, you felt his laugh reverb through his body. You slowly opened your eyes to see the speeder cruising through the city scape lit up by neon lights. It was breathtaking. Your hold on him eased but you didn’t remove it completely. You rested your chin on his shoulder, the wind caressing your face and hair. “You’re alright, Kenobi.”, you mumble. And from the side, you see a smile break out on his face.

“We don’t really have a mission. The culprit was caught yesterday. I just wanted to sneak you away for a ride.”, you hear him say. “Why did you do that?”, you ask. “So you’ll know I’m not that intolerable.”, he turned his head sideways as he spoke, your lips hovered over his cheek. “And also to steal a hug from you. Seeing that you are very generous with it to my padawan, its only fair his master got at least one.”, he explained. “Abuse of power, reckless driving and flirting. All in a day? My, my, Kenobi. Somebody’s being a bad influence on you.”, You chuckle, not wanting to break the embrace. With no one around, maybe just for the duration of this ride, you and him could be friends and bury the past for a few minutes.

“What was your backup plan if this had failed?”, you edge closer to his ear as you speak, his hair ruffled by the wind. “I didn’t have one. I only wanted to know what caused you to hate me.”, he didn’t turn to you but rather focused his gaze ahead. You always thought he had been callous to your actions, that it had not even made a dent on his thick armor. But all this while, he had only been crumbling from within.

“And if my answer validated my actions, what then?”, you ask, your voice held a serious tone. What would he do? He didn’t know. He’d been so preoccupied with knowing why, that he had forgotten to consider the fact he indeed was a villain in your life. That thought some how did him no good. He wanted to be your friend. And he would be lying if he didn’t say he had thought of being more than that. But he was a man of his word, if the answer justifies, “I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll keep out of your way.”, he said.

Now that sudden admission and honesty on his part shook you. A future without him in it, it would be boring and uninteresting. He was a menace you welcomed to have in your life every day, to have a battle of words, to roll your eyes at him just to see him perplexed, whisper something to Anakin and see him beam his puppy eyes at you. He held a certain value in your life even if you did not want to admit to it. He was a constant presence, erasing him would create a vacancy that cannot be filled by any other.

“Do you remember the one time we trekked into the woods when we were kids?”, you ask and watch as his eyes narrow trying to recollect the event in his mind. “Yes.”, he replied. “You made me climb a tree so we could trace our way back to our camp, but when I looked below, you were nowhere to be found.”, you tell him. “You left me alone.”, you turn your face to the side and rest your face in the middle of his back so he won’t notice the hurt it had caused you. “You never came back for me and I didn’t know how to get back down.”, he stayed quite. “Then Ray and his friends walked past and spotted me, only to stand and laugh.”, you shrink further. “He said you only wanted to remind me that I had no one to come for me.”, you take a breath. “Since my… since my parents abandoned me.”, you stop, for another word would allow him to hear you stifle a sob.

Sharing it with him, over a cityscape, your deeply rooted memory of shame, it was relieving. “I still have the scar on my knees from having fallen from that tree.”, you propped your chin back on his shoulder. His expression was distant, the speeder cruising steadily but you observed his knuckles turning white as they gripped the handle bar. “Ray.”, he grumbled. “I was drawn near the bushes, I heard the sound of an animal in distress. But it was Ray, he tied me to a tree further away. By the time I could cut myself free, you were gone.”, He stated, you could hear the resignation in his voice as though he had played this event in his head a million times. “I ran to camp, where I saw you but you didn’t want to speak to me.”, you heard him say and it all made sense. “He knew I liked you and sought payback for that one time I ratted on him to Qui Gon.”, he mustered his strength to look back at you. If only you knew how it had been to be held at bay, it only hurt him more that you would even believe the words that bully had spoken.

 Holding the speeder steady with one hand, his other found your hand that was wrapped around his waist. He took your hand in his and placed it over his heart. “I’d always come for you.”, he said and in an instant you forgot all about that nasty event. You felt safe with him, always have. That’s one of the reasons why you even chose to take this mission with him. Anakin’s skills were trust worthy but with Obi wan, you’d trust him blindly.

He said your name, and your longing came back in waves. You always thought that if only you were able to make him feel as miserable as you felt, you would feel justified but all this while you had only been punishing an innocent man. “Oh Obi wan, I didn’t know. If only I had heard what you had to say that day. This rift would not have even existed.”, you tell him. “So do we move past it?”, he asked, you buried it the moment you knew you had been wrong. “But does that mean I have to be nice to you?”, you ask edging closer, wrapping your hands tighter around him. “Oh no, you can continue to be mean. We can’t have the others know that we’ve made up.”, he says with a smirk. “This will be our secret.”, his voice dropped into a low mischievous tone.

“Did you say you liked me in the middle of all that?”, you asked knowing very well he would deny it. “Its all in the past.”, he gestured with his hand. “Oh is it?”, you rest your hand on his knee, he inhaled sharply. His mind was not on the path ahead anymore. “Yes.”, he lied again and felt your hand trace up his thigh to his waist. “So you dislike me, Kenobi?”, you ask slyly. “Oh very much.”, he said and your hands travelled up to his chest. “I hate you from the very depths of my being.”, he was searching for a stop sign. “Oh such a shame.”, he heard you say as he felt you lean closer. Slowly, you place a kiss on the side of his neck, his pulse quickened. “That’s it.”, you heard him  exclaim as he swerved the speeder towards the top of a building. He brought it to a halt on a rooftop terrace garden. He got off, you had successfully gotten under his skin once again and now he would need some time to gather himself. You removed your helmet as you sat there with a feeling of accomplishment and folded your arms in triumph.

But all that confidence wavered when he turned to you. His hand snaking around your waist pulling you out from the speeder. His other arm carrying your legs before they hit the ground, trapping you in his hold. He placed you on a wooden bench. He took a deep breath.

“I’ve been madly in love with you since the first time I saw you sing around a camp fire. I got into a fight with Ray, all because you stopped talking to me and you were all I had. This scar right here is proof of that.”, he lifted his fringe for you to see a faded line near the edge of his forehead. “Everyday I would see it and then see you. Do you know how it tore me apart?”, he paced in front of you. “Now you think you can get away with your little stunt?”, you see his eyes flash deep blue as raindrops landed on your cheek.

“I just wanted to get under your skin, Kenobi.”, you feign your motive as though you didn’t enjoy being close with him again. The rain caught on, soaking through your clothes, his hair turning dark as they stuck onto his the sides of his face when he turned to see you at the mention of your admission. A few short steps and he was right in front of you. “ And if you truly crept under my skin you would have known that it only has your name written over and over, all over me, that you would have seen the fire that burns in the very center of my heart at the very sight of you. And I hate you, I hate you for how much you make me feel things all while reminding me that I could not be with you. So now that the hatchet’s buried. I’m going to kiss you now.”, he paused to catch his breath but to also a certain your answer.

Water droplets seeping through his eyelashes as he blinked. Your hair drenched but it was the feeling of the water against your skin. A sense of newness as though it was washing away lost time. You run your thumb across the faded scar. “You’ve suffered long enough.”, your eyes locked with his and that all the answer he needed.

His hand cusped the side of your cheek, tilting your head so his lips could fit perfectly on yours, the water droplets streaming down your face, your hand sink into his wet hair pushing them away from his face. He was not going to let you go again. He kissed you fervently, your lips soft against his. He kissed the underside of your jaw, tracing kisses down your neck to your collarbone. Breaking away he swept a stray strand of hair away from your face. The chillness from the rain didn’t bother either of you.

The sound of the city was drowned out by the rustling of the wind and downpour. This moment was only for you and him. “You’re going to catch a cold.”, you stroke his hair, kissing his forehead. “I’ve been sick for a while not realizing sooner that you were my cure.”, he uttered and you lean in to kiss him softly. “I should not have believed a word Ray had uttered.”, you pause. “Will you forgive me?”, you ask and he saw your solemn expression. “What is there to forgive, darling? When all is forgotten”, he takes your hand leading you back to the speeder. He took his seat and then helped you on. “All that matters is that in the end, we found our way back.”, He said as he started the speeder.

The next thing you remember is arriving towards the landing platform. Your spirit felt peaceful as you leaned on him. When you noticed a figure waiting near the bay doors. You sprung away. “You both seem to be happier than when you left.”, Anakin cocked his eyebrow. “Did you catch him?”, he folded his arms, the edge of mouth curved up in a smirk. “He got away.”, you heard Obi Wan lie. “You look a little flushed, Master.”, Anakin was not letting this go. “What are you suggesting?”, Kenobi faked an irksome tone, but the ghost of a smile said otherwise.

“It’s the weather.”, you toss your excuse. “Yes, the weather.”, Obi wan chimed in. “Definitely the weather. Love is in the air after all.”, Anakin narrowed his eyes. Obi wan huffed. “Her. Please, I can’t stand her.”, he looked at you sending you a secret wink before turning back to Anakin. “He’s not my type.”, you place the helmet on the speeder. “I hate his guts.”, you continue. “She’s a menace.”, he looked at you, a smile breaking out on both your faces.

Anakin hummed, as he watched you and Obi wan walk away, bickering. He knew a thing or two about secret relationships to know he was seeing the start of one right in front of his eyes.

[bumbleblurr]

LITERALLY THO like i hate how tfa bumblebee is reduced to a “so random! 😝🤪” only silly idiot prankster kinda guy when like. He’s smart! He’s caring! Yes he can be silly and yes he can be a bit reckless but he loves his friends and he can figure out how to care for them (like where he and bulk are comforting sari 🥺) and also figure out the best strategy to defeat whatever villain of the week is there! TFA bee means so much to me and i am also so excited for earthspark. Continuities where bumblebee is not the kid appeal character my beloves

LICHERALLY !!!! Like I love Bumblebees silly fun nature thats why he's one of my favorites ever, BUT IT DOESNT MEAN he can't be more than that.

Tfa in particular bothers me bc like. It's my fav bumblebee bc he has more bite and spunk (due to being based more on hot shot), but then. They never. Truly take him as seriously as other characters (except maybe bulk but that's bc hes also not taken seriously,)

which is so absurd bc he has some Legit shit going on with him that should fuck him up!! His whole career, his dreams, got flushed down the toilet bc he was unfortunate to have an instructor that doesn't like him and doesn't give him a chance (except when he did 1 singular time and then he immediately sent him to space repair duty for doing the noble thing and taking the fall for bulkhead)

And he doesn't get over this. He is still depressed about it when he says to Longarm "at least one of us achieved their dreams" in like the saddest tone ever (I think it's literally the saddest line delivery bee gives in the entire show) and he talks abt how no one believed he would amount to anything in the trial of megs script reading.

I'd argue his general behavior reflects this too (though idk how intentional it was), bc hes always like attention seeking- approval seeking. He wants to appear to Earth like he's a hero so he can feel successful (and that still went down the drain bc the humans started hating the autobots later)

But do they ever take time to address this issue and sympathize with him? No <3 instead they act like bee has no issues at all, to the point it's like "wasp is suffering so much, bumblebee wtf is wrong with you. YOU CANNOT RELATE TO LOSING EVERYTHING you just can't. nothing bad has ever happened to you. Go play videogames you stupid motherfucker" not that wasp isn't suffering but cmon. don't act like bee didnt have his entire career fucked over like it's not a serious thing

Not to mention as you said he has multitudes to him, he's caring and compassionate! He's quick witted and has lots of skill! He's not just a bumbling fool- Sentinel is wrong about that! (His assessment of ppl is not rlly accurate at all btw, he called bulkhead "bulk and no brains" when that guy is literally the leading expert on space bridge tech)

I am rlly excited to see earthspark bee bc its like. I think he's going to have the same kind of wise-cracking spunk tfa bee has BUT he is in a mentor role now. So there's a good chance he won't be reduced to being a silly jokester, bc he has to have some seriousness to teach (and thus the writers will treat him more seriously) also there's already those earth bots that are probably going to fill up that kid appeal role anyway

tldr: I love tfa bee's personality but I think his writing is lacking bc it doesn't take him as seriously as other characters, and I hope earthspark bee takes what's good abt tfa bee but gets better treatment from the writers

[princesssarisa]

For the character ask: Glinda and Dorothy (Wizard of Oz 1939)

Dorothy

Favorite thing about them: She's an all-around likable character; a nice, warm-hearted, relatable every-girl, whose "heroine's journey" is engaging and enjoyable to follow.

Least favorite thing about them: Hmmm... there's not much to dislike about her. Maybe that she tries to run away from home without considering at first how much her aunt and uncle will miss her and worry about her. But since she's just (approximately) a 12-year-old girl and desperate to save her dog's life, it can be excused, especially because she feels so guilty about it later.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I have brown hair.

*I'm sensitive and a bit of a dreamer.

*I love dogs.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I've never lived with an aunt and uncle.

*I don't live on a farm.

*I could never manage a long journey on foot in high heels (though maybe if they were magic, I could).

Favorite line:

"Someplace where there isn't any trouble. Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It's not a place you can get to by a boat or a train. It's far, far away. Behind the moon, beyond the rain..."

All the lyrics to "Over the Rainbow."

To Miss Gulch when she comes to take Toto away – a good scene to remember whenever critics accuse the screenwriters of robbing Baum's young heroine of her spunk:

"I won't let you take him! You go away, you....! Oooh, I'll bite you myself! You wicked old witch!"

To the fearsome giant head of the Wizard – more good lines to remember any time a critic labels her a weakling:

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, frightening him like that when he came for you to help!"

"If you were really great and powerful, you'd keep your promises!"

And of course, the iconic line when she first arrives in Munchkinland:

"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore!"

brOTP: The Scarecrow, the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, and their real-world equivalents, Hunk, Hickory, and Zeke.

OTP: Safety and happiness.

nOTP: Any of the other characters; they're all too old for her.

Random headcanon: Her parents died in a fire. This explains why fire and smoke are associated both with the Wicked Witch and with the Wizard's initial frightening appearance in her dream.

Unpopular opinion: I don't think she's too much of a damsel in distress or a crybaby. Now, I understand why feminists complain that she's less spunky and no-nonsense than Baum's original Dorothy. But (a) she's older than Baum's Dorothy – it's natural for an adolescent-ish girl to be more emotional than a small child, (b) she's not without her own spunk – she still stands up to people who behave badly or threaten her friends, and even slaps the nose of a lion (not yet knowing that he's a coward) in Toto's defense, (c) Baum's Dorothy cries fairly often too – I don't know where the myth that she hardly ever cries came from, and (d) with all the danger and turmoil she goes through, I think she's entitled to a little terror and a few tears!

Song I associate with them: What else?

Favorite pictures of them:

Glinda

Favorite thing about them: Besides being such a kind protector of the Munchkins and helper to Dorothy, I like that she's a little bit ditzy in a funny way, or at least lacking in knowledge of humans and earth animals: e.g. asking if Toto is a witch. It saves her from being just a sugary "good fairy" stereotype. Also, her cheerful nonchalance in the face of the Wicked Witch's threats: true proof that in Oz, good is stronger than evil.

Least favorite thing about them: The fact that she knows all along that the ruby slippers can take Dorothy home, but instead of telling her, she sends her on the journey to the Wizard, putting her at risk of being caught by the Wicked Witch. "She wouldn't have believed me" is an awfully flimsy explanation why. Now, I don't think she has any dark ulterior motive – it's just the screenwriters' awkward patch-up of the plot hole they created by combining Baum's Glinda (who doesn't meet Dorothy until the end of the book) and the unnamed Good Witch of the North (who sends Dorothy to the Wizard because she doesn't know about the shoes' power) into one character. But if I could rewrite any part of the classic movie, it would be to change her explanation... maybe to say that Dorothy had to go on her journey to help her friends find their brain, heart, and courage and to destroy the Wicked Witch, as well as to learn that there's no place like home.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I'm female.

*I like to help others.

*I like pink.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not a witch, good or bad.

*I don't have red hair.

*I don't usually wear sparkles.

Favorite line:

Her iconic first line:

"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?"

About Toto:

"Oh! Well, is that the witch?"

And to the Wicked Witch:

"Oh, rubbish! You have no power here. Be gone, before somebody drops a house on you, too."

brOTP: Dorothy, in a surrogate mother/daughter or fairy godmother/goddaughter type of way.

OTP: None; she's a happy, powerful single woman and this doesn't need to change.

nOTP: The Wizard or the Wicked Witch of the West.

Random headcanon:

(1) An "Oz is real" headcanon: Like Baum's original Glinda, she's centuries old and was in Oz long before the Wizard ever came.

(2) An "Oz is Dorothy's dream" headcanon: She looks like Dorothy's late mother. She might seem to be the only main character in Oz who has no counterpart in Kansas, but really she does.

Unpopular opinion: I wish more of the adaptations, spin-offs, sequels, etc. would portray her as a redhead again. She has red hair in both the original book and the classic film, so why do Wicked, Oz the Great and Powerful, and their like always make her blonde? Is it a legal issue with MGM, or is it just anti-redhead prejudice?

Song I associate with them: "Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are."

Favorite pictures of them:

[kazuwhora]

hello hello, i see your requests are open now and can i request izana, wakasa, chifuyu and kazutora with an akutagawa!s/o? hope you have a great day/noon/night! ✨🤗

hi anon! sure! I will try my best with izana and wakasa since there's not tons to work with personality wise so forgive me if theirs are a little shorter heh. im gonna include a little blurb from the bsd fandom wiki for anyone not familiar with his character! I like these kinds of headcanon requests so if anyone wants to see more please feel free to request!

"Akutagawa has a black and white "survival of the fittest" view of the world, claiming that weak people should die and give way to the stronger ones. He is not afraid of pain and defeat His ruthless, vicious nature makes him one of the Port Mafia's most dangerous members, feared by both ally and foe. As violent as he is, Akutagawa maintains a generally composed and detached approach. Towards subordinates and superiors alike, he acts aloof, distancing himself from social interactions however possible. Nonetheless, his composure is fragile. Akutagawa is quick to lash out, ridiculing him for risking the bounty by acting recklessly. This quick temper often gets in his way, fuelling his actions to the core of his very being."

SUMMARY: izana, wakasa, chifuyu, && kazutora with an akutagawa!so

CW: hints of toxicity and violence, mentions of sex but not really all that nsfw-ish so otherwise not much else!

IZANA

- this is an interesting one because from what we know about izana, he is very similar in personality to akutagawa in terms of ruthlessness that stems from childhood trauma and isolation.

- in the case of a s/o with this personality, I think it would be a troubling relationship. lots of bitter fights fuelled by nothing but an inability to express vulnerability, while leaving both of you torn up inside and begging for someone to nurture the trauma and allow space for emotions.

- that being said, with toxicity and trauma also comes intense passion and desire. this relationship brings a lot of fire both in the bedroom and outside of the bedroom, with simple arguments often spawning into intense desperate (and lengthy might I add) sex. like, intense. it's almost like sex is the only safe outlet of these pent up emotions, providing a sort of comfort and also distraction for both parties.

- however as I said in general, this is definitely a toxic relationship. one where neither can help the other when it comes to growth and improvement on a personal level. it's unhealthy and enabling, but for a short lived fling it is hot as fuck im not even gonna lie. lots of hate sex too.

WAKASA

- so wakasa is another interesting one alongside izana given the lack of information and content we have about his character so please excuse the slight kc fanon version I have in my head of wakasa lol

- wakasa has a "don't fuck with me because I do not fucking care" type of vibe to him. I definitely think he's the type to completely disengage from the type of behaviours an akutagawa-type s/o might display. this leads to sort of a sense of competitiveness in trying to get some kind of reaction from him, and it has the potential (much like izana) to become toxic in nature

- any attempts to get under his skin are failed attempts, and the way he looks at you with that half bored expression is something that only triggers more of a somewhat emotional response from you.

- with that being said, my fanon version of wakasa is someone who while cold and aloof, is also quite a rational person. he's been typed by the fandom as INTJ which is quite a quick thinker, and I think he probably (despite not showing it very well) has a soft spot for you. but your passion and intensity (as well as your easily triggered dynamic) keeps him from completely being able to express this care in any way other than not engaging with your antics

- as much as there are some similarities with the type of toxicity in this relationship with both wakasa and izana, the intense passion isn't quite the same as it is with izana. instead, feelings of passion are more to the point and driven by pure instinct and desire rather than toxic passion. wakasa seeming like a very literal person, is actually quite mysterious deep down and has a lot (I mean a lot) of hidden desires and kinks that begin to emerge with time. it's rarely a conversation, and more often just something that happens that surprises you. you just have to go with the flow here, and let him take the reigns for once. it might actually be a good opportunity to allow for vulnerability to take the spotlight for once, which is something wakasa is surprisingly in tune with and quite to the point about.

CHIFUYU

- this is something much healthier than the last two. chifuyu, being an enfp is someone that's able to handle this level of intensity in a person while still being able to understand what's really going on.

- call him the trauma counsellor king. he values each and every response to a trigger that you might have. he notices patterns, he makes mental notes of things, and he does this all without making it seem like he's analyzing.

- to be honest he actually loves the spunk you bring on a day to day level. even though most of the time it's driven by bitterness or hate (not always towards him just in general) he is still able to see beyond that and appreciate you for what you are.

- with that being said, chifuyu will not stand for any toxic behaviour towards him. no sir he will not. threats and pushes for fights wont be tolerated, and he will either disengage or try to expose your vulnerabilities in an attempt at forced submission. this can be hard to get used to, especially with having a personality characterized by the inability to accept being vulnerable. but with time chifuyu is one to create a safe space for you to allow yourself to feel emotions beyond anger and resentment, and he encourages this.

- because of this very feelings based approach, intimacy with chifuyu is just that: intimate. he's extremely loving and doting, hoping that his sweetness can rub off on you a little bit. however he's also very accepting of your need for power over him (especially during sex) and will absolutely submit to your needs in order to please you.

- he really likes to put you in a place of pleasure though, so however that may come to you chifuyu is the one to deliver it.

KAZUTORA

- oh boy. this one is a doozy. listen. if we're talking about timeskip kazutora (as is the case with all characters i write about but I feel it especially important to remind ppl of here given his history), we're talking about someone who is quite literally walking on eggshells in terms of his trauma and emotional vulnerability.

- he's pretty good at being emotionally aware of his needs and struggles as well as the needs and struggles of those around him, but that doesn't mean that he's entirely healed or capable of managing toxicity or his triggers. he still slips up from time to time especially when things get hard, and sometimes finds himself falling into his old patterns. after all, he's only human. but this is where things could get messy in a relationship.

- for the most part, like I said, he's pretty good. so let's focus on that part first since I want to give him credit where it's due. he is very desperate for love and dedicated to providing something to his partner. in this case, he will seek to tap into his emotional vulnerability to provide some sort of comfort for you. he wants to see you happy, and calm, because he sees so much of his old self in you that it gets to him sometimes. but at the same time, he struggles with your relentlessness and can become emotionally drained when things get tough. he'll beat himself up for not being good enough to help you, and this is when he'll isolate and fall into old patterns.

- however, akutagawa's personality type isn't all bad. with a s/o like akutagawa, comes an immense amount of protection and loyalty for their loved ones no matter how tough things might be. in this case it might be hard to communicate this, but there will be times when it's needed in order for kazutora to restrain from old habits and ways of dealing with hardships. but he wants to share his healing with you, he wants you to be happy, and more than anything he understands the struggle of wanting to be happy and healthy but being afraid of losing the one thing that makes you you: your attitude and relentlessness. nobody understands this better than kazutora, which is why things between you can get frustrating and very personal for him.

- much like chifuyu, sex is driven towards pleasing you and only you. chifuyu leans more into switch territory however, while kazutora is 100% submissive. in this case it works out well, however he has a lot of boundaries and limitations when it comes to the way in which you function. he doesn't like degradation. instead, he thrives from praise and any sign of love and care. this might be tough for you to execute 100% of the time, but when it comes down to it the way his eyes twinkle for you is enough to make the ice around your heart melt just a little more each time.

[quinnthebard]

by storm’s wake - [cross] ffxivwrite2022

During a meeting regarding the attacks on Ishgard with Ser Aymeric, Eminne is confronted with someone from her past that she never thought she'd see again.

AO3 Link

Eminne never expected to cross paths with that strange boy from her village ever again. Not since he was taken unto someone else’s care after what happened to their shared home. Her parents moved onward to another small town and that was that. Not that she cared. Absolutely not.

Her scalp still hurts from where he tugged on her pigtails when she’d walk past his parents pasture. Not that she didn’t immediately return the gesture much to his chagrin but what’s fair is fair after all.

What did bother her was the absolute lack of recognition when he walked into the room and addressed them after Ser Aymeric introduced him. Sure, it may have been twenty years but surely he can remember one of the very few other children he grew up with in Ferndale. It wasn’t a particularly large community.

“There can be no doubt—the wyrm has summoned minions to war.”

That last word yanks her from her internal struggles. Another war? They only recently helped end the immediate Garlean threat in Eorzea and now this. Alphinaud jumps in and eagerly discusses this new information. Eminne knows that diplomacy is not her strong suit so when Alphinaud waves her off, she eagerly takes her chance to get a moment to herself and heads for the door.

The sting of the eternal wintry air brings a pink hue to her cheeks. After the discussion on recent events and the startling realization that Nidhogg plans to go to war, she needed to just get out of that stuffy room. Not to mention away from the Azure Dragoon himself. He didn’t truly do anything wrong. It’s not as if she was all that interesting but she just figured that since she remembered that he would too.

Her carbuncle pitter patters behind her in the snow, it’s sapphire hue reflecting off the fluffy flakes that have recently settled.

“Emotions are stupid, never get them.” She advises the small critter. It’s only response is an animated nose wiggle as it’s tail swishes in the air, batting flakes out of the air. “I shouldn’t care. Why do I care that this stupid boy turned dragoon of legend doesn’t remember me? By the Fury, this is ridiculous.” Pacing between the trees, Eminne mutters to herself, her hands animatedly.

“It’s not as if we were even friends! He was a menace! I bet he still is! Everyone always talked about what a quiet kid he was but I never saw it. He’d taunt me as I walk by, books in hand. I just wanted to find a quiet spot near the fields and away from town to be left to my devices.” She snorts. “Always asking ridiculous questions, trying to things out of my hands. Why?”

“Because I was curious what you were doing but you never stopped to listen.”

A deep, rumbling voice startles her, a shiver running up her spine. “You!” She sputters, tripping over words and thoughts. “Y—you… You…”

“Aye, I didn’t forget you, you silly thing.” He huffs, almost laughing, mostly incredulous. “Or should I call you Warrior of Light?”

“Only if I should be referring to you as the Azure Dragoon.”

“Heh.” His armor clinks as he crosses his arms. His helm masks whatever hints to what he is thinking could be gleaned from his expression. “If only you were so willing to talk when we were younger. Perhaps you wouldn’t have doubted my memory.” This time she swears she hears him chuckle. “As if I could forget the girl that dared pull my hair.”

The tips of her ears grow hot, she’s sure they’re red from more than just the cold now. And without a second thought, she reaches down and deftly grabs a lump of snow, packs it together, and throws it at Estinien. “That’s only because you pulled mine first!”

He merely side steps it. “Still got that bit of spunk. Good.” This time he laughs audibly and with a growl another snowball is launched, this time landing right in his visor, scattering about on and within the helm. The chuckles subside into sputtering and spitting, trying to remove the invading snow from his face to no avail. “Gods, what was that for?”

“Stop laughing at me!”

“What are we? Twelve?” He takes off his helm and shakes his hair loose while tipping it upside down, smacking it on the sides vigorously. “Do you know how annoying it is to remove this stuff from the padding in this thing? Beyond that, some has melted and made it wet.”

“Apologies. I didn’t—” Eminne clears her throat. “I just… Here.”

She walks over and reaches for the helm and with a slight squint, he appraises her before letting her take hold of it. With a little effort, she wills the carbuncle to take on the form of Ifrit-egi and, while keeping enough distance, works with the summoned creature to remove the moisture and remaining snow from within. When the egi dissipates, leaving behind her familiar blue companion, she turns back to Estinien, extending her hand that holds his armor.

An eyebrow raised, he looks down at her then takes it back. Gruffly he gives his thanks and slides it back on his head. “That’s a neat trick.”

“It’s not a trick.”

“Well, whatever it is, works well. But do you always have this thing following you?”

Gesturing down at her carbuncle companion, Eminne knits her brow. “You mean him? I suppose so. He’s like a pet but I don’t have to feed him. Just sustain him with my aether.”

“Ah, so he’s parasitic.”

“What?”

“He’s leeching his energy from you to continue his existence. That sounds parasitic to me.”

“That’s— Don’t call my carbuncle a parasite!”

“I’m just calling it like I see it.”

“You’re impossible!”

“Eminne?” Their bickering ceases as the youngest elezen walks over, Alphinaud’s voice filled with confusion as he takes in the scene of the Warrior of Light preparing a snowball, seemingly to throw at the Azure Dragoon of Ishgard. “Excuse me, but what is happening here?”

Dropping the snowball, Eminne straights up and clears her throat. “Nothing.” Then begins to walk past Estinien, not daring to look him in the eye. “I tire of the cool air. Let’s get on with our plans so I can rest by a warm fire.”

“Eminne, you can’t—!”

“Leave her boy.”

“What did you do? I’ve never seen her like that!”

“I didn’t do anything.” Estinien’s gaze looks to the distance where Eminne continues to stubbornly march onwards. “Or at least, I don’t think I did.”

“Well, this is going to be difficult if you don’t at least tolerate each other. I must have a word with her. This is ill-befitting of someone of our organization and I apologize profusely for her actions.”

The dragoon waves it off. “No need. I took no offense.”

“As you wish, but I will speak to her regardless on this. I cannot risk her acting out of sorts with other less amiable people.” Without waiting for further response, the young teen stalks off.

“Eminne Vailat. You sure climbed up in the world.” Estinien lets out a short, humorless laugh before reentering the building. The Warrior of Light… interesting.