#or maybe I would grow up to be someone and I would be more than what I look like
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
It makes us sound just like all the older generations that bullied us when we were growing up, making fun of whatever kids happen to be referencing lately. It’s just bullying and we don’t need to bully children because their parents let them spend too much time online and eight-year-olds suck at moderation. We would not be doing better if we were babies in quarantine and got handed iPads as pacifiers while public education crumbled still further and our parents had to work as much as theirs do to keep us fed. How about we meet them where they are, whether or not we think it’s good enough? Because they’re kids with basically no control over their lives who’s overworked, broke parents with their own screen addictions handed their babysitting over to tech conglomerates because it’s cheaper than daycare and community support is hard to come by. Sure we could say they should have known at three years old that their excessive screen time would hinder their development and moderated their tech consumption accordingly but that is quite the logic trip you’d have to take to justify your blanket hatred of gen Alpha. Their parents absolutely need to find time and energy to raise the kids they signed up for and yeah if their kid’s attention span is decreasing they probably fucked up. But the damage is done. Making fun of them isn’t going to help them. Blame without solutions is unproductive and kids have a tendency to become what you believe they are. You’re upset about iPad kids? Good.
Solid chance you’ve got one in your life. Give their parents a break and read them a book or play pretend or build playdoh sculptures together or something. As someone who doesn’t have experience with kids of the past to compare them to I swear when you accept them as they are they’re actually pretty awesome. Maybe their memes suck but in person kid humour is still gold. And the emotional intelligence on some of them… good chunk of the adults I know aren’t on the level of some of the ten-year-olds I work with. You’re still mad? Maybe about their literacy levels? Push your government to fund public education and child support. You’re mad at their parents for letting iPads raise them? Fair. They’re no question responsible for supporting their kid’s healthy development. Make that responsibility more manageable. Take it up with capitalism. Seriously. Do activism. Again, if you can do it without stretching yourself too thin, help a family out. Big part of the reason parents are struggling so much is because society invented the nuclear family and told them child-rearing is at most a two person job. Become part of a family’s community. Cook your post-parnum pal a meal and clean a surface in their apartment. Be the cool adult who brings fun games when you babysit. If you really don’t want to spend time around kids, buy diapers if you can. Or cover some of the back to school bill. Go bargain hunting and find a good deal on something a family needs. Be someone a parent can vent with.
If you are able to do something about the problem but you choose not to, that’s okay. There are so many things to be worried about. We’re all tired. But maybe don’t go off about how much kids these days suck.
"skibidi toilet is ruining gen alpha" do none of you people remember asdf. i remember asdf.
121K notes
·
View notes
Text
Would the Bat boys date someone older or younger?
---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_
Bruce Wayne: Younger. I feel like this man needs someone younger than him to balance out how old he sometimes feels. He likes how easy it is to impress you and how excited you get over his stories or the "simple" acts like a five star dinner or 12 course meal. He likes how bubbly and energetic you are because living in Gotham hasn't completely sucked the life out of you the way it has to most people his own age. The media isn't surprised to find out he's going out with someone in their mid to early 20's, it's honestly expected but only a few people realize how genuine it is. That it's not because of the thrill of being with someone half his age that makes him love being with you, it's the gratification of finding someone so much purer, who reminds him of what his mission is really about— keeping people like you safe.
---
Tim Drake: Older. He wouldn't necessarily seek it out, or reject anyone his own age, but those relationships would definitely fall apart because he always felt some kind of disconnect. He would gravitate towards someone of more maturity who would take care of him, who he could be the little spoon with and have his hair stroked by or his tie (when he had to wear one) straightened. He had been forced to grow up fast, and was naturally to someone 6 or 7 years older at least, if not more. He knows being seen with you would make a splash and going out to public would make things way worse, but he doesn't care if the media calls him a 'cub' nearly as much as it bothers him when they say he has 'mommy issues' of when they call you a 'cougar' for going out with him.
---
Dick Grayson: Either. He honestly doesn't care about age, he'll find a way to play it up either way. This man wants to lord over you the fact that he's older than you. He likes knowing he has more life experience than you and that he can take care of you. You just have to deal with him always claiming seniority. But! If you're older, that's fine too. He can't wait to be your arm candy, to tease you for going after someone younger and playfully call you a 'mature older partner.' When the media finds out, no one is surprised. No one so much as comments on the age difference because he's his father's son and dating someone with a 8 year age gap isn't unexpected
---
Jason Todd: Younger. If he had an older partner, he would feel babied and that already happened enough with his family. But someone a couple years younger, maybe by three or four makes him feel younger too. Like being with you gives him back the time that was stolen from him when he was dead. He likes how sweet and kind you are, how easy it is to make you laugh. He fears, sometimes, how dark the city is compared to you and tries his best to shield you from it. But you can handle a bit of darkness, when it's from him.
---
Damian Wayne: The same age. He would refuse anyone younger and couldn't stand anyone older. The same age. You need to be born in the same year as him, at least. Preferably with six months, just to make the difference as small as possible. He'll still want to technically be older, though, so in every argument he can mention it. You're at the same stage in life, he likes that you seem headed in the same direction, that you'll (eventually) grow old together and neither of you will be without the other for long since you'll probably pass away in a similar time frame too. He likes that nothing either of you say is outdated to the other and never will be. He likes that he doesn't have to teach you and doesn't feel like you're trying to teach him. You're simply learning about life together.
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
I DID IT
I AM CAUGHT UP ON THE HANDMAID'S TALE
EVEN THOUGH ALL OF SEASON 5 WAS A SLOG TO GET THROUGH
my god. I've never done so much Not Caring about a TV show as this past season. the story feels like it's just dragging on and on past a reasonable stopping point- June getting to Canada -especially since they said they're still adapting The Testaments next as of this past February
also the attempts by Lawrence to justify Gilead as "using religious zealots to save humanity" seems like a weird both-sides-ism that I've been worried about since the first mention of Gilead cutting their carbon emissions back in the earlier seasons of the show
for context, book!Gilead is lucky they lasted even the 20-ish years they're implied to have in the afterword of TT. they're climate change deniers, nobody ever has enough of anything- even the children of the Commanders, as the Hannah character of the books grows up, circulate the same clothing and toys amongst themselves and eat synthetic dairy products instead of the real deal -power cuts are frequent, Commanders' houses have guards everywhere because children being "kidnapped" by resistance members trying to get them out of Gilead is common, they're sending missionaries abroad to frantically proselytize because they're running out of fertile young women due to escapes and executions, and frankly everything holds together about as well as you'd expect for a wildly irrational dystopia that doesn't care about facts or logic
the show transforms them into a society with human rights abuses galore, but no other real issues. scarcity is hinted at a few times but never actually appears to impact characters' lives. everyone has beautifully-fitted matching outfits; you never see clothes being passed on to anyone else when someone no longer needs them. no major food groups seem to be lacking. and hey, they fixed climate change so well that Boston now sees Toronto-level snow every winter! (because that's...definitely how that works!)
maybe the showrunners felt that they needed to create a reason why anyone who wasn't a zealot would go along with Gilead, but they took out the main reason from the books: certain anti-porn feminists making a devil's bargain with the religious right, the whole phenomenon of the 1980s that made Atwood write the book to begin with
there aren't supposed to be Aspects In Which Gilead Is Good Actually. it's a dystopia. it's a commentary on negative aspects of our society. it doesn't have to be positive in any capacity
the show is really good at a lot of things- I especially liked the choice to make June decidedly Christian, even though it was probably made more to avoid criticism of the show as anti-Christian than to add character depth
but just like the last time I tried to watch it, I found myself getting less and less invested as the seasons went on
we'll see how the sixth and final season goes for me, I guess
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
Help
Summary: you were a best friend who would gladly treat his burns when no one else would
Warnings: Touyas implied family issues and trauma, angst, burns
Young Touya and Healer Reader
“Touya, you should really be more careful with your quirk”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I know you know that… I’m just worried is all.”
Touya pouted at you, his brows furrowed as he held up his burnt arm while you wrapped it. The sun was warming the two of you, as well as the grass you sat in, the gentle buzz of insects in the trees as the summer breeze gently whipped your hair out of your face, as if to help. Nearby in the small park where you sat, a swing set creaked happily under the winds ministrations, the atmosphere around you filled with peaceful noise, something rare to both of you. Your movements were careful and precise- you’d learned from the best, after all, both of your parents were support heroes with different healing quirks, so it was no wonder your small, gentle hands carried such precision and knowledge as you tended to his self inflicted wounds.
“you know… maybe your dad isn’t worth impressing…”
your voice came out quiet, your big round eyes never leaving the arm you tended to. Touya on the other hand furrow his brow even further. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh? He’s my dad, of course he is!” Touya snapped, his voice creaky under his own doubts, as well as the pain in his arm. “Touya, if hurting yourself is what’ll get his attention than you shouldn’t let him see you at all” you responded, matching his irritation with concern.
“He shouldn’t treat you the way you do, and you shouldn’t just hurt yourself to impress him! You’re gonna-“ “shut up! You don’t know anything about it so just leave me alone!” The childish response as he stood closed off the argument, and you sat in the grass, looking down at your hands as he stormed off.
Touya stormed off to the swing set , sitting with a dramatic thud as he glared over at you, crossing his arms with a pout. You stayed still, picking up the small medical kit you’d brought with you to meet him. You glanced at him a few more times, and each time, his gaze would soften as he caught the concern on your face.
He knew he was being mean, and that you just wanted to help, but he wasn’t sure help was what he wanted right now. Why would he? He had so much he felt like he needed to do- train until his flames impress his dad, become a hero, surpass all-might, just like Enji said he would…
Getting taken care of by his best friend wasn’t one of those things.
Until now, at least
Because here you are, all these years later, tending to his fresh burns in an abandoned parking garage, and all he could think about was how nice it felt to be taken care of by someone, despite the fact that you’d done the same thing a million times before. Because now that he knew what he knows now, he’d never walk away like that again, not now that your familiar soft hands tended to his scars like nothing had happened… maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
“wait, would you consider dating me if i had a 2-inch thing?” he shakes his head, figuring she either doesn’t know what she’s talking about or genuinely is an angel in human form. maybe little bit of both. “alright, yeah… the feeling’s always been mutual.” there’s no point in denying what they both already know. “bet you was just as fascinated and curious to see what kind of undies i put on, hm?” he teases, but then grows a little more sheepish and embarrassed, and in turn — serious. “i promise, at seven or even thirteen, there was nothing dirty on my mind. it was just curiosity in that oh, i wonder if lucy gray has t-rex boxers on, too kind of way.” he only learned what intimacy was when jesse decided to randomly brag about his romantic endeavors when they were fifteen, and by that time he’d known better than to look under lucy gray’s skirt. “it’s kind of crazy how we can go years without talkin’, meet out of the blue and pick up where we left off.” not entirely but his point still stands. it feels like nothing’s changed between them. “mhm, well, your twin really hates bath time. i keep forgettin’ it wasn’t you last night. it was lulu gray,” he muses, hiding behind another piece of steak. the meat really is very flavorful and juicy, just how he likes it. the goat cheese salad is nothing special, but it also doesn’t taste bad. “hey, it’s perfectly natural to get butterflies when you have a crush on someone, alright? i didn’t want to make babies with you at the age of seven, but i did have an innocent crush on you.” blushing as he admits what also must be obvious, again, there’s really no point in hiding the truth. “thank you, birdie, but you should care ‘cause you’re ‘bout to be the next taylor swift.” and social media is a powerful thing. one post can make or break a person. he doesn’t want lucy gray to get in a fight with blair and end up with a questionable reputation all because of him.
“then, that ain’t nothin’ to be embarrassed of. that’s cute, then.” a laugh escapes, head tilting back in amusement. “just like you are.” obsessed and thinking about her panties. “no, i guess i get it. you’re a boy so i bet it is interestin’ to know what girls put on. you’re used to lookin’ at spongebob and mario underwear, so i’m sure it was fascinatin’ to see what i wear.” she has to admit she’s always curious and nosy too, so she can’t really blame him being a little creep. “mhm, better than sittin’ in silence. bein’ middle schoolers.” another laugh sounds from her… glad it didn’t go in that route. “that must be a lie too cause i love bubbles and lotion.” amused smile pulling at her visage while twirling more noodles on her fork, taking a bite of spaghetti then garlic bread. “oh yeah, gettin’ butterflies seein’ tinker bell and rapunzels face on my behind. just like a little pervy boy.” teasing him, she’s laughing yet again, having to hurry and swallow her spaghetti so she doesn’t get choked. “i don’t care if she goes cryin’ on instagram or at the grand canyon, she needs told.” what kind of girl like that would attract billy? it doesn’t make sense. a proud smile washes over her face at finally winning the war, moving her legs off him and sitting her feet back on the ground. that’s what she thought.
355 notes
·
View notes
Note
Seeing some Angel!Charlie fanart, it made me realize something...
The plot of the show would be WAY MORE interesting to follow if Charlie was an angel living in Heaven who grew curious about how life in Hell is so she decided to sneak out and see for herself. And while there she meets some sinners who only did one bad thing to go to Hell and are just overall nice people, making the things she's been told or raised to know fall on its head.
So from there she would be fighting for some of the sinner's rights to be let into Heaven, and thus ends up moving into Hell to open the hotel and prove that Sinners CAN change for the better and that they are worthy of Heaven.
This whole rewrite can also be seen as an allegory for someone raised in a strict Christian household who starts to realize that maybe everything they've been taught is not what they appear to be.
And this can also lead to Charlie learning more about herself than she ever did in Heaven. Such as learning that she's Bi or has rather... unholy interests that her relatives up in Heaven would be horrified finding out.
honestly this is why I wish Emily was introduced so much earlier in season 1/got to be one of the main characters. Seeing her get to unlearn the toxic beliefs of heaven and go from supporting Charlie just because its the proper thing to do to becoming an activist for the sinners after realizing just how cruel heaven could actually be would be such a nice arc- plus it'd give her an excuse to actually bond with the other characters and grow attached to her.
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin critical#hazbin critique#hazbin hotel critism#hazbin hotel criticism#anti hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel critique#🐟
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Simón stared at the product and wondered about it. He never used. He followed that old rule, don't get high off your old supply, but the thing is, this wasn't his supply. He was just the transportation. He brought the stuff in, he brought the stuff out, and that was it. Didn't pay much but it did pay enough but as he looked at it he wondered if it was time for a promotion. If they were going to drag him back in then why should he remain on the sidelines?
It was something he had to seriously consider. If he had the blessing of the cartel, maybe, just maybe he could pull it off. But without their approval? He'd be dead. You don't run from Los Tigres, at least not for long, so if he were to become a dealer he'd have to be a partner.
Still, as he looked around his cramped rundown and dusty trailer he started to wonder if this was his only move. He didn't have many job prospects but he had a lot of ambition. Maybe this was his opportunity...
Tuesday morning and yep, still doing chores. We're planning to hire a maid soon because honestly otherwise this place would be a little too much for me to handle. I do think it would be a temporary thing. I'm not sure if I want Flora growing up to be spoiled, thinking someone will always do her laundry and clean up after her, but who knows how I'll feel about it once the maid checks in. Maybe they will spoil me. It's hard to imagine myself as one of those pampered player wives but I feel like that's the path I'm going down.
As for Flora I'm taking care of her the best I can which of course includes feeding her right from the source. There are a lot of benefits to it, health wise and I've heard it helps with bonding. Not that we'll need help with that because I feel like I've already completely connected with her! She's growing so fast too, every day I can see her getting just a pinch bigger, or maybe I'm imagining it?
Overall, life feels perfect right now! I know I keep saying this but I really can't imagine that I would be in this spot a year ago. A beautiful baby girl, a beautiful house, and an umm, yeah, a good looking but somewhat goofy boyfriend! I just feel so good that even a plain apple salad gets me excited!
I'm really pouring as much of myself as I can into this new social media thing when I do get free time. I want to feel productive and I know taking care of Flora is being productive but like I've said, I don't want that to be my only thing. I know being a mama means limited free time too but I'll manage. I think my new career is off to a great start as well!
As for Pascal, well, you can probably guess. Yep. Working out and of course without his shirt. If you've got it, flaunt it, is what I always hear.
And I'm trying to get it back with a little more free time given to me or at least enough time to hop on the treadmill. I have my mind set on losing this baby weight and I am also motivated by the fact that Pascal does this every single day so I can do it too!
I did spend most of my day on the treadmill and got a solid workout in. I feel so much better! I can't head to bed though without checking in on Flora who was whiny and wriggly and needy and this time I bottle fed her. I also hang out with her a little, chat with her a little, and let her know I love her more than anything in the world. How could I not? Look at her!
Pascal is out for a road game and that's why I've been here home alone for most of the day. I was going to slip into bed but I remember I have to check my socials before sleeping. Which means just seeing the reaction to my last video and interacting with people here and there and also checking in on Pascal's socials since I'm nosy and he's my guy so I have a right to be a little nosy. That's normal right?
Is it also normal that he's liking this woman's post?
Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.4
#The Sims#The Sims 4#ts4#Sims#Sims 4#sims legacy#my sims#generation 1#soot#sims of our time#frida varela#sofia prats#pascal alcocer#florencia alcocer#simon barrera#tw: drugs#tw: drugs mention
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
(There are several fundamental things that you are certain of, about yourself. The truth about them is so integrated in your bones that no matter how much the curse over your memory tries to scrub it, you refuse to forget.)
"You are certain he is not in the meadow?" You hear Odile ask a third time, something sharp but also maybe a little fearful in her tone. You are bad at depicting exact emotions, always have been, so you aren't fully sure, but you, personally, feel very afraid as of right now watching the House in the distance, so you wouldn't blame her for being so high-strung.
Even if you'd prefer that she would stop biting Mirabelle over it.
(One: you were born on the island north of Vaugarde.)
(The language, the rituals, the crafts — you were raised into it, breathed it, lived it until it all was swallowed into an insatiable black hole that spans across the whole Universe, making it remember and forget and remember and forget, cycling.)
Mirabelle is anxiously wringing her hands, hastily put on oil-stained clothes rustling like tree's leaves in the strange wind you are sure isn't natural. "I am sure!! I've- I've checked it over and over, and walked a bit into the woods near it, and run up to Favor Tree and checked there a couple of times, but he's- he's nowhere to be found."
(Two: you are stubborn when it comes to knowledge.)
(You have been researching your home since the very year you forgot it, learning until you forgot, and relearning it all over again until it sticks. Some of it has, and you are immensely glad- but the things that didn't made you very adept at circling out the important parts of what you see, or read, or learn, which in turn was very beneficial in fighting tricky Sadness or gaining more specific clues to where the Orbs were.)
"Dile!!" Bonnie calls out somewhere on your right, painting with exhaustion from running all over Dormont in the ten minutes they were gone. In the periphery of your eye you see Odile snap her attention at them in an instant; their voice gets swallowed halfway through by the buzzing of your skull, but you still get to hear their report: "I checked the flower shop and fields and clocktower again and asked the guys on the rock but no one saw Za after he went away!! And- and-"
(Three:)
"And there are no Orbs!!!"
You hear Odile take a sharp inhale. Mirabelle makes a choked noise from behind her hand, like something is stuck in her throat. Even you feel a pang of what you may as well call horror.
Bonnie's voice wobbles as they explain that, when you were away, someone ransacked your stuff, taking away the Orbs and tonics, leaving things askew. From the way they describe it, though, the precision was too keen for it be someone who doesn't know exactly what they're looking for, or where to find it — only the necessity was taken. Crafted Water, Pepper, Thyme. Notably no Ginger disappeared, like it wasn't even remotely needed.
The wind blows in your face, bringing a sharp sting of a smell you can't quite name. Your gaze is glued to the House.
(You know what you know.)
You all know who took them.
You do not hear what Odile says over the sudden howling in your ears, but Mirabelle's voice rises several octaves at once and barely manages to tear through. "He wouldn't!!" She argues, voice dangerously close to real tears. "He wouldn't, he- he's-"
Odile's tone is sharper than it ever was before. "I do not want to think of him like that either, but then what will we do? He's still unaccounted for, and nowhere to be found. He either deserted, betrayed us, or-"
"Za wouldn't!! Even if we got into a bad fight he wouldn't!!!!!"
"Boniface-"
The smell grows stronger. Stronger, stronger, stronger. It invades your mind, overtakes your thoughts, claws at your brain with nails sharp as knives. You can't focus on the argument that gains both volume and momentum; everything stinks of something, like it's smeared all over your face. The air is stale with it, compressed, hard to inhale or exhale. There's a comparison on your tongue, so close, so close, if only you could-
"Madame, enough!"
You wish you could-
"Stop trying to sugarcoat it, Mirabelle!"
(There are several fundamental things that you are certain of, but most important is the most obvious.)
You nearly gasp aloud. It's almost funny how such a small thing makes everything click into place.
(You were taught Wish Craft since you were a wee-baby, barely able to walk. You were raised into it, breathed it, lived it. It's part of you as much as your absent memories of how you did so.)
Sugar. You've been smelling sugar all day — in the library, in the clocktower, and especially on Isabeau. Tacky like syrup, awful and sweet to the point of being bitter. Molasses in every breath, rotting fruit between your fingers, overpowering every other smell yet unnoticeable unless you really focus. It's been itching at the back of your head, tidbit for you to pay attention, hot brand on your thoughts now.
(You know what you know.)
He's in the House. The House that is strange, warped, and not in the way, you think, it's supposed to be warped.
(You recognise Wish Craft for what it is when it's presented before you, and especially how truly dangerous it is.)
He's in the House, whose roof is askew at an impossible angle, half floating in the air. Whose windows are all different shades of wrong. Walking halls you've never seen before. Fighting Sadness, finding keys, tearing down the foundation of that building brick by brick. Most likely going to go toe-to-toe with King soon.
You ignore the way everyone behind you yelps when your cloak hits the ground. You ignore the indent in the ground, you ignore the choked call of your name, you ignore the wind's howl, you ignore the stink of sugar, you ignore.
The smell of sweets, — worryingly, — becomes even stronger.
(You don't know what he wished for, but this amount of craft is immense.)
Everything.
(Isa is in danger.)
Your fingers snap and you're gone like a released arrow.
this is also cross posted on ao3 :333!!!
What if during Traveler Isa's act 5 Sif leaves the cloak at the clock tower just out of a sheer rush to get to Isa
Bold of you to assume Siffrin would've left every single one of his belongings at the clocktower the moment he realizes where Isa is >:3c But for real. You sparked an UNHOLY amount of inspiration in me this evening. My hand hurts, but it was worth it! I think!!! thank you! and curse you for hitting me with the creativity brick to the back of my head on my weekend break
#isat#isat spoilers#isat role!swap au#writing#fanfic#my fics#you thought i have been doing the worst/best/funniest gang things??? WRONG get researcher siffrin blasted.#i absolutely hate how this au had taken over my brain i cannotttttt. (said lovingly)
498 notes
·
View notes
Note
I was thinking about your portrayal of Naoya and I was already thinking of a JJK actor au which led me to think of how actor Naoya upon hearing that Y/N was going to be in this new romance movie, I feel like he’d immediately use all his connections(Ofc he could audition but he needs to make this a sure thing plus he’s fs a Nepo Baby XD but at least he’s got the skills too) just so he can be in that movie with Y/N(Maybe the Male lead was gonna be Nanami too!). I bet they’d end up getting together by the end of filming Teehee. You don’t have to write anything if you don’t wanna but I thought you might think this au is fun too if only to just daydream about it :D
Heya anon!!
Thank you for your patience hehe. I have to say, AU’s where Y/N or Naoya are a celebrity is kind of like my guilty pleasure; I don’t really indulge much on it because I don’t have a plot line most of the time, but this was the perfect excuse to see what I can do with it :> I just hope you enjoy it!! Also, this is going to be a two-part oneshot so… yeah hehe.
Btw, thank you all for those who voted for fluff, but we know how this goes so I had to put a little bit of drama somewhere :) it’s Naoya we’re talking about.
Warnings: AU. Naoya and Y/N are actors; he’s an idiot, a nepobaby, womanizer, etc etc, but we already knew all that. What’s interesting is his so called redemption OOF.
Happy reading!
Established actor Naoya that’s quite popular amongst the audience even with the rumors of his difficult work ethic, less than desirable personality, and blatant nepotism, thanks to his good looks and deceiving charm.
Because of his status, whatever project he wants, he gets. Sure, there are some that still have the audacity to require an audition from him, but it’s just a formality that he dejectedly complies to—Naoya knows that even when doing a bad job, he’ll still get the part at the end of the day.
But that doesn’t mean Naoya goes for any kind of role; he’s quite specific about what he wants: a pretty co-star.
And the studios had a variety of reasons to allow such demands, starting from a financial benefit: with a handsome face like his to match with an equally attractive coworker, he’ll only sell-out all functions; and in turn, he’ll get his fair share of enjoyment with his fellow partner of the moment. The same ones he discards immediately after getting bored; careless if they unwittingly got feelings for him—but nonetheless a win-win situation all around.
Such a quick lifestyle has him already setting eyes on his next target, a relatively unknown rising star with a seemingly promising future whom he was immediately smitten by upon seeing her for the first time, just as the rest of the world was.
“Y/N L/N” Naoya would repeat, enjoying how the sound of your name rolled off his tongue—fitting for someone of your beauty: vibrant eyes, rosy cheeks, shiny hair… and to top it all off, a humble yet shy demeanor that just made his obsession for you grow tenfold.
Wouldn't be the first time he’s grown interested in up and coming actresses, because in Naoya’s perspective, they’re much easier to impress, far more gullible to manipulate how he wants…
But it would be the first time he’s ever been so desperately obsessed to be with, for soon after he saw you, you became all he thought about. Causing him issues with his current fling (it briefly grazed the headlines, his team quickly fixed that)and some commitments he almost fumbled, keyword: almost.
Naoya couldn’t explain it; there was just something about you that attracted him, almost like you were destined to be together.
He needed you—one way or the other—and he needed you now.
Per usual, he soon demanded his manager and assistants to get a detailed list of all your upcoming projects, to see which ones he could be part of, and if neither were to his advantage, make those opportunities. Naoya was not to let you go so easily.
”A movie adaptation for some romance series that’s been in the talks for a while now.” His manager highlighted. “It’s her biggest work yet as a protagonist—in fact, development just started because of her.”
”Romance?” Naoya breathed, excited at the implications. “Do they have the male lead yet? I don’t think I need to tell you what I want, do I?”
”Oh, uh, no—you don’t, but… about that—“
”What is it?” It was always frightening to see how easily his behavior oscillated when facing his disapproval, but once already here…
“What?! What do you mean the casting’s already done?! Why wasn't I made aware of this????”
Because as obvious as his womanizing ways were, it would be physically impossible to have him assist every single call in hopes he’d settle with someone attractive enough for his standards.
Besides, this project already had their co-stars in mind way before it was even announced, the studio was just waiting for the right female lead to come along: and when that proved to be you…
Nanami was quickly brought on board, perfect for the role in all ways that mattered: from physical similarities to his character which made the fandom very, very satisfied, to work ethic; his professionalism was always beyond everyone’s expectations, no one has ever complained about him.
Kento was, hands down, a dream to work with—and considering what all of this meant, it was safe to say that Naoya was not happy about it.
”Well, get them to change actors!” He quickly demanded. “Call them and let them know I want the part, should be easy enough considering my status, no?”
”Ah, I— I guess I could but I’ve heard other people tried before and failed… so I don’t want to waste your time if you’re going to face that same result…”
The way how other’s interest in the film is implied behind his words makes Naoya’s eyes widen. Because surely no one cares about participating in that irrelevant series he’s never heard of until now, if it didn’t mean getting to work with you, that is. Everyone’s favorite girl of the moment.
His girl.
Ever the competitive one, it doesn’t take him much longer after that to call who he had to call, bribe who he had to bribe to finally, after many insistences, sign the contract that effectively labels him as your co-star.
Careless if his decision would prove detrimental to the project in the long run, or if it would strain relations between him and Nanami. Naoya never really minded him, outside of being bundled together with some other actors the audience generally cataloged as the most handsome in the country—if this change meant they’d never get to work together, fine! He had obtained a much better reward in return anyways.
Naoya wasn’t to allow anyone to deprive him of what was rightfully his—even if he wasn’t aware of it beforehand—and thus, when the fateful day to start working alongside you finally came along, the moment he’d see you for the first time without the interference of a screen, or through a picture—
His breath ran short. Heart skipping a beat when his eyes fell on your figure: truly, the cameras did you no justice.
You were far more breathtakingly beautiful in person.
So much was his shock, that the smooth introduction he had planned for the moment was limited to a stuttering mess, a shame to someone as charismatic as him.
”You’re—you’re Zen’in—No, I mean, I’m—“ Naoya says, a stranger to the heat forming in his cheeks, inwardly demeaning the weak presentation he must’ve given you now.
But if he wasn't already fixated enough on you, the way you appeared to be indifferent to his nerves completely captivated him. A wide smile on your lips as you greeted him with that same enthusiasm that made the whole world fall to your feet.
”Nice to meet you, Naoya!” You chirp. “I can’t believe we’re working together… I mean, so early in my career! Thank you so much for this opportunity, I promise I won’t disappoint!”
”The pleasure’s all mine.” And so is the curse you’ve seem to have unwittingly placed upon him after sweetly declaring you’d be under his care.
He’s made up his mind, Naoya will make you fall in love with him in less of what it takes to wrap up this movie. He’ll make you his, and will go to any length to ensure so.
Even if it meant ignoring your father’s (your manager, a veteran actor of days past) clear warnings.
”Don’t think I don’t know how your kind works.” Eiichi, your father, threatens Naoya during a short moment of privacy. “And I’m well aware of the rumors that surround you, even if you have your team quiet them. I should’ve known you were up to something the moment you insisted on Nanami’s removal—but I’ll let you know that whatever it is that you have in mind, I won’t allow it.”
”I assure you, Eiichi-san, I have no other intentions with your daughter outside of making our best efforts to have this picture timely done.” Naoya cynically responded, which just made your dad even angrier. Your co-star thinks your manager is an all bark, no bite type of dog. An old dog too, and treats him like such.
“Then surely asking you to act appropriately for once in your life isn’t too much to demand, is it?” He frowns. “Especially for someone who’s barely starting in the genre.”
”Wait—you mean to say—“
If this is your first romance movie, does that mean…
You haven’t done your first on-camera kiss?
Or perhaps even better—you haven’t kissed anyone at all?
Not quite, nor were you ever going to disclose personal matters that truly only belonged to you.
But if your father intended to protect you, he really, really shouldn’t have said that. Eiichi shouldn’t have gone ahead and essentially pushed you further into Naoya’s claws, his words being the last piece of motivation to become completely unhinged and make your time with him… tense, to say the least.
Oh, but how could he not? You were simply too adorable when trying to do your best to fulfill everyone’s expectations: barely putting up a fuss when Naoya got a bit too dramatic to what the script demanded, far more handsy, even when not recording: all for the sake of staying in character, he’d claim.
And when he dejectedly worked on those scenes where nothing of his interest was happening, you didn’t even complain. You kept quiet, submissive, taking the situation as best as you could and kept on working—because that’s what professional actresses do, isn’t it? And you’re nothing but the best.
But things didn’t really escalate until it was time to record that long-awaited kiss; what the script demanded to be the first kiss between their characters, in other words, something sweet, overall a touching scene.
However, Naoya naturally had to blur the line between his work and personal life—and instead of taking this moment as what it was, just two people trying to get the job done, he decided to… mark it as some declaration of feelings.
Confirmation that the time the two had spent together, a few weeks now, had actually amounted to something; aside from figuring out what your soft lips tasted like.
Because to Naoya, those interactions in between breaks, outside of the set, and even during filming, had been quite meaningful to him. To you too, he suspects.
Your shy nature just didn’t allow you to openly affirm it, a little push was all you needed to do so.
”Don’t be nervous, dumpling.” Is the nickname he’d given you upon seeing your excitement for last week's catering. You’ve politely told him it wasn’t necessary to call you that, but he insisted otherwise, calling it their very first inside joke. What everyone does to get along better. “Just follow my lead and I’ll worry about everything else, ok?”
Not exactly the reassuring words you were searching for, but for someone of Naoya’s expertise, alongside the physical hold he had over you at this point, hands over your arms, keeping you close to his chest… it’s not like you could demand otherwise.
And so, after everyone was in position, the director finally signals the scene to begin: Naoya delivers the script with an uncharacteristic perfection, outside of that slight rush behind his words, eager to get to that one particular moment, it’s obvious he’s been looking forward to recording this.
To kiss you, which he abruptly does by suddenly moving his face towards yours and then, captivating your lips onto his—giving more than his interpretation of the character’s desire: it was him wanting to take in your scent, warmth, touch, everything, and bask in it.
Claim it as his own, for those in the room, and the world in due time, to see.
One might’ve even assumed you were fine with his intentions too, given how you didn’t complain nor fight back against his desperate gesture, struggling to follow his lead in a way that appeared he was trying to eat you alive.
Which thankfully didn’t happen once the director cut the scene, and just before you ran out of breath.
”Naoya, while I appreciate the enthusiasm, that was—a bit too much.” The director said; if he was aware of your and Naoya’s fluster, he didn’t comment. “Let’s do it again, from the top.”
Normally, Naoya would’ve retorted at what he considered unnecessary reshooting, apparently his time was far more valuable than the rest even when he was being paid millions to be there… but this time around, he was nothing but obliging, in fact, Naoya even suggested that they’d go at it once more just to be sure they captured the right sentiment. Fulfill his desire.
With each time becoming more and more desperate than the other.
Naoya frequently claimed himself to be immune to any kind of addiction, thought of it as weak for the character, above such “petty” faults—But when it came to you… he just proved to be as human as the rest.
He physically needed to have all of you; they’d have to forcibly pry him away to stop—
Or for you to do so, swiftly placing your hands over his chest and pushing him away when it became too much, putting an end to the scene before the director could and subsequently raising many eyebrows around you.
”What’s wrong, Y/N?” The director asks upon seeing your distraught face—exhausted from the many reshoots, and of course, Naoya’s overbearing ways. “Is everything alright?”
”Ye-yeah, I just… I’m sorry, I think I need a break.” You silently plead, looking over to your manager who was more than ready to step in if your request was dismissed; which thankfully, wasn’t. The director sighing before turning around and stating:
”Alright everyone, take 5.”
The perfect opportunity for Naoya to follow through with his so-called affirmation of feelings, trailing behind you soon after.
“Hey, dumpling, wait up! There’s something I need to—“
”Not right now, Naoya.” You respond, your pace unwavering. You didn’t even turn to face him. “I have to—be alone for a moment.”
”Y/N—“
Your father and sister, manager and assistant respectively, close in on you and break eye contact between the two, allowing you retreat into what he assumed your dressing room—
And leaving him behind to deal with his anger, which he immediately takes out on the director, stomping his way to him and giving him a piece of his mind.
“So you’re just going to let her go?” Naoya hisses, the man, having worked with him on previous occasions, simply sighs.
”What do you want me to do, Naoya? You saw how she ran away.” He responds. “Besides, we’ve been at it all day, I’m tired too.”
”This is just going to ruin the pace of the film, you know that, right? You should, considering your… experience.”
”Look, Naoya— it’s quite obvious what you were trying to do back there, I’ve seen it before; but we’re not going to discuss that.” He adds. “The girl is new in the game, naive, and overprotected. Did you know that her management sent us a long list of requisites after the studio offered her a contract? If it weren’t for her family, she would’ve been immediately dismissed.”
”Requisites? What kind of requisites?”
“None that I can discuss with you, but I guess I could tell you the obvious: you were not part of them. There’s a reason why Nanami was firmly set for your role, but guess that doesn’t matter since you know your way around these things…”
”Is there something else you’re hiding from me? Why bring it up if you’re not going to tell me anyways!” Naoya growls. Why was Nanami brought up again, out of nowhere??
”Just take 5 minutes, Naoya. Clear up your head, we still have a long day ahead.” The director insists. “And if it’s worth anything, Y/N will be back, she’s very dedicated to her work, I’ll give her that. Even with your weird… plays, I’m sure.”
But that wasn’t enough to calm Naoya—not with the way you essentially fled from him.
Your behavior led a part of him to feel… inadequate. Underperforming—stupid.
Rejected.
And he’s never been rejected before.
A dangerous observation to make considering his easily ignited attitude.
The moment you were back, he’d demand an answer. Hear, directly from you, why you’d cruelly dismiss his advances when he had been nothing but nice to you.
… but that moment wouldn’t come today.
In fact, not even in the subsequent ones, for after everyone was abruptly requested to go home, the studio announced that filming would go on a brief hiatus to sort out some… unexpected issues—which Naoya immediately connected to you given your radio silence.
Forcing him to directly reach out to you… but you’d never answer. In fact, all of his attempts were swiftly ignored; your team didn’t even acknowledge them! As if dealing with junk mail.
Naoya’s desperation naturally spiked after that, frantically searching for an answer—
Which he’d get soon enough, but only through a tabloid which probably described the worst case scenario he could’ve imagined unfolding for this situation:
“Y/N to abandon latest project—close sources blame differences between protagonists.”
Naoya’s heart sinks.
Also, I wish to apologize if these little comma things “ appear weird? Like not the right ones at the beginning? I’m currently out of my home so all of my writing is being done through a tablet lol I’ll come back later to fix them :> I hope it didn’t ruin your reading experience :’v
And I might as well comment I didn’t feel like ending part one with just the headline, but at the same time the whole naoya’s heart skins doesn’t completely convince me…. But I don’t know, might be my impostor’s syndrome or something who knows!!!! All that I know is I have to make Naoya pathetic on the second part, so if anyone has any ideas of what you’d like to see send them in hehe I want to make him suffer :) or at least guilty, damn…
Anyways, I hope it was to your liking!! I shall proceed with the following part after I write down a little smut hehe. Thank you so much for sending in this ask, take care and hope to see you soon!!!
#ask#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
Just wanted to maybe request an addition to the Stockholm!Rhiannon and raise you Yandere!Rhiannon.
Rhiannon, who kidnapped you not because you witnessed a murder but because she needs you. Maybe she wants you to watch her kill someone, maybe it gives her a rush?
She keeps you tied up, and maybe one day you call her crazy, or say that she needs help and she gets so angry that she kills someone and then blames you for it? Convincing you to stay because it's all your fault that she killed that innocent person and look at what you've done to her.
I love your writing so so much, could I maybe be 🍁 anon?
— warnings: yandere!rhiannon. she’s insane in this one, guys. kidnapping. canon typical violence. obsessive!rhiannon.
rhiannon didn’t kidnap you out of revenge or because you witnessed something you weren’t supposed to -she kidnapped you because you’re hers. in her mind, it’s not even a question of morality; it’s a mere necessity. she didn’t even have a proper reason to take you, except her growing obsession. you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, bumping into her at night, after one of her kills. you couldn’t have known, the blood hidden under her rain coat.
there was no reasons that would justify the fact that she had to have you that night, only the adrenaline from the kill and the need to be yours the way you’re hers already.
she keeps you tied up at first, but not in the garage where she keeps most of her victims (you’re not a victim to her, after all). somewhere personal, somewhere that feels like her. she wants you to associate your surroundings with her presence. she tries her bedroom, at first, but the way you stay up half the night, exhausting yourself by banging the back of your head against the bed frame to make some noise soon pisses her off too much to keep you there. so, she settles for the living room instead.
when she does untie you (on good days), she’s extra vigilant, watching your every move. you can feel her eyes boring into your back no matter where you are; whether she has ran you a bath to clean yourself up or allowed you to move through the space because you stopped feeling your legs from all the sitting.
after a while of your unwilling stay (she refuses to call it what it really is.), rhiannon starts introduce you to her violent nature, not just as an observer but as an accomplice in her mind. she wants you to watch her “work” because it’s the ultimate expression of who she is.
by then, you’ve obviously put two and two together and realized that she’s the killer on the loose that everyone’s been looking for. you’ve also noticed that she really seems to have some fucked up kind of soft spot for you: in all the time you’ve been here, rhiannon has not once laid hands on you (except for when she first took you). she’s been surprisingly gentle, instead.
that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when she returns home to you exhilarated, her clothes stained with blood, her breath heavy. she smiles wide, kneeling in front of you to explain in graphic detail how much she enjoyed it. “i did it for you. doesn’t that mean something?”
the first time you try to ignore it entirely, to draw your eyes away from the crimson that’s staining her clothes and is still dripping from her hands when she runs them through your hair. yet, when it becomes a frequent occurrence that she confesses her kills to you, you can’t hold it together forever.
the first time you call rhiannon crazy, her expression freezes, and you know you’ve struck a nerve. she doesn’t lash out at you immediately, but later that night, she returns with blood on her hands all over again -more than usual.
“you did this,” she accuses, her voice trembling with faux heartbreak. “you made me feel like i wasn’t enough, and i needed to prove myself. don’t you see? this is all your fault”
it’s the first, yet by far not the last time rhiannon does this: she plays the victim often, lamenting how “difficult” you’re making things. she tries to convince you that the outside world could never compare to all that she’s capable of doing for you.
“you’ve seen what i’m capable of. do you think anyone else would protect you like that?” she asks while serving you dinner she’s cooked.
through all of her madness, that soft spot for you is still palpable: she’ll sit beside you while you sleep, stroking your hair, whispering how much you mean to her or surprise you with gifts she’s stolen from her victims -a necklace, a watch, something she thinks will make you feel special. “look what i got for you. do you like it? say you like it”
if you ever dare to defy her, though, she becomes cold and calculating. she might isolate you for hours or days, refusing to speak to you while you remain tied up, just to make you beg for her attention. on the flip side, when you comply or show her even the slightest kindness, she becomes overwhelmingly affectionate, showering you with praise. “see? that’s how it’s supposed to be. just us”
any mention of someone else, anyone who isn’t part of this imaginary ‘us’ rhiannon has created (whether a friend, family member, or stranger) sends her into a jealous spiral. “why are you thinking about them when i’m right here? what do they have that i don’t?” she’ll start making veiled threats about cutting off any potential ties you have to the outside world. “if they cared so much, they’d already be looking for you!”
at this point you’ve learned to tread carefully, where a single wrong word can send her spiraling into either rage or despair. and yet, as she crouches in front of you after another kill, her eyes wide with the kind of devotion that suffocates, you feel something snap inside you.
“why are you doing this?” the question tumbles out of you before you can stop it.
rhiannon’s lips part, surprise flashing across her face. clearly, she hadn’t expected you to speak. then, she leans in a little closer, her breath warm against your face.
“because you’re mine,” she says simply, her smile curling into something sharp, like this is the most logical conclusion. “you’ll see that eventually. you have to”
as she brushes her bloodstained fingers down your cheek, the realization sinks in that she’s not just convincing you. she’s convincing herself of this, too.
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
I have seen someone pointed out and write out how Emily being the mc of hazbin hotel would fit way better if hazbin hotel supposedly about criticizing religion
That or making Charlie an angel living in Heaven and moving down to Hell to open the hotel would be way better than what we got.
Regardless of who, the experience would lead to them growing out of their naivety and developing as actual people not so blind to the world and how it works. It could also serve as an allegory for someone being raised in a strict Christian household who starts to realize that maybe everything they've been taught and told is not what they appear to be.
Plus being in Hell could actually be a GOOD thing for Charlie/Emily as she could discover more about herself than she ever did when up in Heaven. Like Charlie discovering she's Bi or has some... unholy interests that her angelic relatives would die hearing about.
This might just be the plot of my own original rewrite of Hazbin Hotel that isn't Melody Motel.
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
dead or alive? (sirius & regulus)
a/n: a little black brothers angst! still debating whether or not i like it, but sharing it anyways. heads up for reg not doing too hot.
‘Regulus?’
It is 04:00am and dark. Sirius is sat with his back against the bathroom door in his brother’s flat. His phone lies discarded on the floor, the bright screen of his messages with Barty acting as a torch in the early morning shadows.
‘Regulus?’ he repeats, voice quiet and thin. It sounds less like a name and more like a hope, feebler than he wants it to. He clears his throat abruptly and gives it another shot.
‘Listen,’ he says, attempting to bargain with the nothingness. ‘I’m not asking you to come out here and have a nice little chinwag about your feelings or any of that idiocy. I’m not a therapist, and I’m not going to force you to tell me about any of the shit you’re going through right now, promise. I just need to know that you’re okay.’ Sirius’ eyes flick down to the Whatsapp messages at his feet. He rubs his face roughly with his palm and gazes bitterly at the ceiling.
‘The things Barty’s been telling me are fucking scary, you know that? You’ve got to know that. Just knock or something. Come on.’ The clock down the hall cuts through the silence with a few jarringly loud ticks. It is 04:02am.
‘Fuck’s sake, Reg,’ he swears, exasperated. ‘Open the bloody door.’
‘You can’t hide in there forever. Aren’t you freezing? I’m freezing. Why don’t you ever put the heating on? I know you can afford it.’
‘I swear to God, this is getting ridiculous now. I know you’re there. I can see your damn shadow.’ Sirius’ long pale fingers tie themselves into knots over and over as he fidgets. More agonising silence.
‘Regulus.’ The door remains shut, and the shadow behind it remains unspeaking. It is 04:05am.
‘Should I get someone else here? Is it just me that you don’t want to talk to, is that it? If I got Evan or Remus or, shit, literally anyone else, would you speak to them?’ Desperation is beginning to crawl out of Sirius’ throat, mangling his words into raw, strained sounds that chase after each other quicker than they ought to.
‘Come on. You haven’t got vocal cords for nothing, you are aware of that right? Just say something. Just let me hear your voice, and then I’ll go away and never bother you again, yeah? Just let me know you’re alive. Please, Reg.’
‘You’re my little brother, you know. You’re still my little brother. I know you hate me, a-and I hated you too, for… longer than I should have, and growing up was pretty shite - I think we both understand that now. You know, I’ll always feel guilty for leaving you. I swear, there hasn’t been a single day where the guilt hasn’t eaten me alive, James could tell you. So you’ve every right to hate me. Really, you do. You could hate me for your whole entire life and I’d get it, seriously, I would get it! But you’re my little fucking brother, Reggie. C’mon. Just do this one thing for me, this time. I need to know my little brother’s okay. I need to know he’s here with me and not… not dead on the fucking floor. Give me that much.’
It is 04:12am when the handle turns. Sirius isn’t expecting it at all - he’s aching and exhausted and terrified and too used to silence. He jumps when he hears it, turns wide, shining eyes towards the sound with unsure anticipation. There’s a few moments of clumsy shuffling, and then the door is opening inwards onto a dull gloom that clings to the tiling and old-fashioned sink with unrelenting intensity. It is very quiet. For one terrible moment Sirius thinks, irrationally, that maybe Regulus isn’t there. That he’d been sitting in the hallway for the past twelve minutes begging thin air and the ghost of who used to breathe it. But then the shadows are shifting, taking on form and contour, becoming something more familiar. Regulus crawls out from behind the door with shaky breaths, and lets himself be lit by the phone on the floor in all his wretched vulnerability.
Sirius doesn’t move, at first. He just stares at his brother. Sees his grey eyes reflected back at him in a slightly younger yet equally pained mirror image. Sees those eyes flicker and move and relishes in the aliveness of them. Sees a not dead brother. Then it processes somehow, and he’s pulling that wonderful, infuriating, not dead brother hastily and instinctively towards him with both arms, and holding him, and crying without realising it. Regulus lets it happen. He collapses into the hug.
#fanfic#fanfic blog#fanfiction#the marauders#marauders era#marauders fandom#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#the marauders era#regulus black#sirius black#the black brothers#marauders angst#cel writes fic#not sure if i really pulled off what i was going for here but c’est la vie#it’s practice if nothing else#i’ve actually written a fair bit recently#which means for once i know definitively what i’m posting next#poppy x minerva fluff i wrote upon a friend’s request#and then some barty crouch junior survivor’s guilt stuff muggle au style#i figured i’d separate my sad pieces with something sweet#and then i should probably get back on my jily grind but i’m not really sure where i’m taking that atm#fully exposing myself here: i do not plan whatsoever! so.#jily will come when it comes and do whatever it does
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Keep you safe and keep you dreaming
hi friends! wrote a quick lil sickfic for ficwip's 1000-word challenge (write a fic with exactly 1000 words) that doubles as a gift to my no-longer-sick friend @anxietybard!! thank u to @toweroftunes for the beta!! pls give it a read under the cut or on AO3 <3
She hates when he’s sick, and he can’t help feeling guilty about it.
Soul tosses another tissue into the trash-can heap, watching as it tumbles down the mound of bunched-up microbes and nestles itself against the rim. He lets out a sigh that is noisier than usual, mucus corroding the sides of the exhaust pipe that is his throat.
He understands the root of her discomfort, of course. It’s not so much the present cough and sniffles as it is the memories it brings back. It’s the past that eats at her soul, for lack of a better word. Because when he’s sick, she makes herself sick with her own consumption, her own acidic bile of regrets. He knows what she sees, when he’s lying in his own bed in the apartment: the Soul of ten years prior, bedridden and feverish in an infirmary cot, looking like the first cut into an ultra-rare steak.
He tries to remember this, to empathize with this, when she’s being the way she is now, three hours deep into a WebMD rabbit hole and shoving both remedies and conspiracies in his face.
“An orange is a perfectly reasonable thing to eat when you’re sick!” she’s saying from the foot of his bed, holding a plate with a full-on pyramid of them balanced in her left hand, the other hand defensive on her hip.
“S’not the idea of oranges that’s unreasonable, it’s the fact that you’re giving me twelve ,” he grits out. He wants to lie back dramatically, but he’s too clogged up to do so.
Many moons ago, he would’ve thought of the orange onslaught as a thinly-veiled attempt to keep Blair out of his room, having heard way too many warnings and factoids about cats and their aversions to citrus over the years. As if on cue, Blair yells out a grateful “Thaaank you~!” from the living room, her keen nose having registered the oranges’ absence.
Years prior, Blair would have been way too happy to ‘play nurse’ for him in his vulnerable state - something that had always irked Maka, obviously. To be fair, he sort of feels like having someone lie in bed with him might be pretty helpful for his recuperations, though he has a strong first choice for this assignment, and it certainly has never been Blair.
“Twelve oranges might be good for you!” Maka insists, pinking in the cheeks at his mental suggestions. Their link is always more open when he’s sick; it takes too much effort to keep his walls up that he doesn’t want to expend, and all she usually hears is vague sniffling and doom-and-glooming, so. “Besides,” she adds, suddenly serious. “Scurvy’s making a comeback.”
“You think I have scurvy? ”
“I’m just saying that an orange or twelve couldn’t hurt!” she exclaims, moving to place the plate on his bedside table. He snatches his phone off its charger just in time to avoid death by Annoying Orange, and makes good use of it to pull up the symptoms for scurvy.
As he scrolls, he starts to grin. “Hah. Maybe I caught it from you.” At her curious glance, he adds: “Apparently one of the main symptoms of scurvy is being chronically irritable.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes at him as she exits. Guilt renewed, he sends out an apology on the airwaves, one that she meets with a brush of mental fingers.
M’not going anywhere, okay? he thinks, sending the words through the gap in the door, a love letter. Promise.
There’s a sound like a sigh in her soul, followed by a montage of emotions. An old, deep, burning fear. An undying flame, smothered by time, suddenly reborn. And then - relief. Comfort. And then… guilt of her own, for being the one who needs the comfort.
Go sleep s’more , she thinks back, voice growing weaker as she heads deeper into the house. I’ll be here when you wake up.
The reciprocal I promise that she tacks on is a mere whisper of a thought, but he hears it nonetheless. It’s an effective anesthetic, lulling him into a nap.
He dreams of orange peels and dark cathedrals, the old ache across his ribs tugging at something still-unhealed in his psyche.
When he awakes, it’s to a new smell - a bowl of chicken soup, steam rising and catching the late afternoon sunlight through his window. Next to it, a cascade of saltine crackers arcs along the accompanying plate. A mug of tea sits at its side, steaming slightly as well. The oranges are still there, moved slightly back. She’s left him a tiny space on the table for his phone to sit, which he sheepishly plugs in.
He reaches out for the soup and takes a sip, the ache in his chest slightly soothed. He smiles a little, savoring it, taking in the quiet of the room, the way the steam clears his head, opens his sinuses.
Once he’s almost done, the door clicks open - she’d felt him wake up, of course.
“Is it okay?” she asks.
“S’delicious,” he says, clearing his throat a little.
“Good,” she says, business-like, taking the empty bowl and placing it on the table. And then, slightly less businesslike: “Can I come in?”
He looks up at her, gaze soft as he takes in her embarrassment, as if they haven’t been doing this for years. “Duh.”
She lifts the comforter and clambers in, getting settled and resting her head on his chest.
“You sure you wanna stay?” he asks after a few minutes, poking at her shoulder. “Might get sick.” “S’worth it,” she mutters, ducking her head. “Besides. I’ve had plenty of vitamin C.”
“You sure?” he asks. “Got some oranges I could lend you.”
She scoffs in response, squeezing at his side.
For the rest of the afternoon, they lie wrapped in each other, comforted by the fact that, amidst the steam and the scent of oranges and the promise of not going anywhere - that suddenly, it’s slightly easier to breathe.
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let's talk about Sanders Sides and why it should end.
Disclaimer: this is my opinion, I don't have any malicious intentions by voicing it, please don't harass me or people working on the show as the result of reading this rant. You can just stop reading if you don't like what I am saying.
Thank you for understanding.
I myself only joined the fandom 3 years ago. Along the years there has been a lot of content and I was captivated immediately. The characters are the main thing of this fandom and I would like to talk about them first.
They started to not be themselves. Maybe it's now that obvious when you watch one new episode every year, but for someone who just showed up and binged it it's quite noticeable.
There is a thing that happens to every character in every long term content (I'm sorry I can't remember how it's called). With time they become parodies of themselves. And as the time goes on they become more and more simple. That can change the character drastically. Someone who was street smart becomes a character that you can't believe is still alive with how stupid they are.
The same thing is starting to happen is Sanders Sides. It's basically a running gag that Logan lost all his whimsy and is gonna snap at any time. This is the example of simplification, what is left of him is only his core elements. Logic, no feeling, smarty pants, facts, jam. However it ties into the story quite well. No one listens to logic. It makes us invested in how this unnoticed before conflict would be resolved.
With Patton it's not the same. He used to be innocent. An adult who doesn't want to grow up. He was relatable. Maybe it's because Thomas is older now, but the innocence in Patton's character started to come of as ignorance. He used to come of as deeper than at first glance, smarter than you give him credit for. Now he just acts stupid. A guy who can set water on fire. A guy who doesn't even try to confront reality. He was supposed to get character development. Where is it?
Virgil started to be more cringe and boring. He's emo and his character trait is to act like an angsty teen. However now it's more of an adult pretending to be a teen. You can most see it in the Jam video where he tries to do skateboard tricks and we can see his boxers sticking out. Why would you do this? He used to be sassy, he used to be arrogant villain who can't get rid of. He got excepted, and despite the Halloween episode about the phases, and him saying " It's still my job to scare you" we don't ever see him do it. He hangs around I guess, but he lost all his bark and bite. All that's left of him is just moody.
Roman likely didn't change that much. His original chaotic nature masks any changes so far. Although I would say Roman lost quite a bit of his drama and sass. Being sick because the ego was bruised, starting a rap battle just to prove a point and show off, singing and " Making the song 10 times better" in his opinion, freaking out because a person he ships Thomas with has called him back. In flirting with social anxiety he does freak out because of the cute guy, which is very Roman, but it's a bit strange that the embodiment of pure creativity would not find words to finish a poem. ( I have my questions with him in the nostalgia episode like playing the instrument poorly even if he showed he can draw a Mona Lisa with crayons, or not allowing Thomas to demonstrate the dance, but I'm just gonna put that under " Possibly Janus pretending to be Roman")
And Remus and Janus wasn't here long enough to start to fall apart. Although I don't think Remus would actually be able to fall apart as a character because of his chaotic nature.
The second thing I want to discuss are sponsorships.
I am happy that Thomas gets the money and has the opportunity to get more. But did he had to put characters into the sponsorship?
The jam one was fun. It was a joke what turned true. A running gag. But it also gave the community something to interact with. Four new jam flavours, characters on the package, limited sets. You could try something your favorite character likes!
There were good sponsorships on Thomas's chanel before. Like Hello Fresh. He did the advertising as himself, not as characters. It wasn't so in your face. And that's how it should be. He wasn't begging for you to buy it. He was simply sharing a good thing he uses. It wasn't loud and obnoxious. Even if it wasn't as entertaining as the jam musical or character jam merch, you still felt like you could buy it. The food looked good!
It's not the same with VPN, now is it? I would not get any character interactions if I buy this thing. So why are the characters involved? Because I like them and it would be easier to sell me something if They tell me to buy it? Why are you so pushy for me to buy it?
We all are waiting for the season finale. Something grand. Something epic. Something to finish the story. But I don't think Thomas should start another season. He would probably be tempted to, because of the new character involved, but that might not be a good decision. I'm not saying he should stop with the Sides altogether. But I feel like short video format would suit the characters better from now on. No big plots, no storylines, just characters interacting with each other in different situations.
Finish it. Put a stop to the story. All good things need to end. Don't drag it out or you will ruin what we love so much about those characters. It would turn into 8 seasons of Winx instead of the planned 3.
Give them their happily ever after.
I hope I'm not coming of as rude, because I don't meat it in a rude way. I just have things that are bothering me that I want to talk about with someone and see if other people think the same
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fusionfall showed us all what a fantastic character bro could’ve been…
& then season five of SJ just used him as a 5 second gag, & then he was used as an empty, repetitive boss in Battle Through Time…
Naw, dawg. I ain’t ever forgiving Genndy for that.
He KNEW the fans loved him but chose to not even properly use the poor demon when he ABSOLUTELY COULD HAVE
FUSIONFALL HAD THE BLUEPRINTS
BUT NOBODY ELSE TOOK EM
It’s what ultimately drove me to finally use my own writing skills to bring justice to his character, show what he’s capable of & how he can drive a plot.
Yes
It’s oc x canon
But that’s beside the point.
He is
SO much more than just the spooky guy who steals souls.
He’s capable of so much more than that.
Hell
I’d argue the way he’s written in Fusionfall makes him one of the few villains in that universe that’s legitimately capable of redemption depending on who may stumble into his life.
I like to think that despite how much he enjoys being independent & putting others below him
He yearns for connections
& he probably would have slowly warmed up to some of the other characters if he ever got the chance.
Maybe he ends up connecting with the other villains, maybe he ends up meeting someone that makes him explore a different kind of life for himself.
Regardless, I genuinely believe he HAS that potential to grow as a character with how Fusionfall sets him up.
Sure, he’d definitely have more enemies than friends, but he’d still find companionship SOMEWHERE
& I’m sure a friendship or even partnership with someone would be beneficial for him, especially as someone who had spent centuries serving under someone else.
Imagine how therapeutic it would be for him to finally have a relationship where both parties have equal power.
That shit would blow his god damn MIND.
God, I LOVE WRITING FOR HIM!!
I DON’T CARE IF I’M ADDING SHIT THAT WASN’T THERE BEFORE, CAUSE THESE ADDITIONS AT LEAST MAKE SENSE & MAKE HIS CHARACTER SO MUCH MORE ENJOYABLE & EXPLORABLE & I LOVE HIM!!
Genndy just needs to hand over the rights to his character over to me at this point. I’ll treat the poor thing better than he ever could. /lh /hj
I've been seeing alot of hear me out cakes so I've decided to make my own
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think the two most obvious foils for Ludinus Da'leth across all of Critical Role are Essek and Keyleth, which is both fascinating given how different those two characters are from each other (Essek being a foil in terms of isolation, single-mindedness, harm in the name of ambition, knowledge, and other such wizard themes; Keyleth being a foil in terms of people who have lost something at a young age to the gods and bear resentment for it, political leadership, belief that the world belongs to mortalkind, and longevity) but also it's extremely funny that they both are the partners of Liam's character.
#i could write like a longer piece about it but that kind of sums it up#like. hm. how do i put it.#the thing about essek is like. he like ludinus made some IMMENSELY selfish and harmful choices#but the timeline was SHORT all things considered. ludinus didn't REALLY get going until hundreds of years post-calamity#and he expresses NO regret whereas the vibe with essek in 2x97 is that he's kind of hated himself ever since#and you know. maybe if someone had intervened with ludinus 400 years earlier he'd have done the same. but who would. does he have friends.#the thing about essek haters who aren't just angry shippers is that they all ascribe to ontological evil and yet don't ascribe it to ludinu#meanwhile keyleth is just like...the scope of her pain is somehow both smaller and larger#and yet she's able to see herself as part of a whole and not the center of the world#the fact that power and long life was much more naturally given or earned by her rather than seized is also i think part of it#but keyleth's speech this past episode in particular...it's a direct rebuttal of ludinus's dumb speech in 51#this can be your world without having to kill anyone if you're willing to work and grow and compromise and grieve#cr spoilers#critical role#ludinus da'leth#essek thelyss#keyleth
349 notes
·
View notes