#the highlights are so goddamn offensive and harsh

[clvric]

don’t mind me fixing some of yamamuro’s shit

[ssreeder]

sreedie. it is time.

NO SOKKA baby people want to be your friend you just DONT LET THEM

pls sokka thinking he can gaslight himself out of being in pain is so in character but so. goddamn Frustrating

sokka is giving anna from frozen with his whole “my firebender’s awake so IM awake” deal

listen I get why sokka is like oh I should cut back on the swearing if I wanna Grow as a person but like,,, as an australian the concept of swearing being Bad is just so foreign to me lmao

I think it’s a really interesting component of the zukka relationship (highlighted by your traumatic drowning scene thx sreedie) that sokka’s instinct is to try to hide in/behind zuko??? like he’s obviously very protective of zuko too, but I think that in a way, even when sokka is on the offensive and is the person defensive zuko from the outside world he’s still using zuko as like, idfk a shield?? of sorts??? to deflect away his fear for himself and all that jazz… does that make any sense whatsoever????? idfk lads

STOP ik it’s a super serious moment but all I could think about when sokka was like “he had to do it for zuko” wAS THE FUCKING let me do it for you tiktok sound T-T

not aang talking like an actual certified therapist at 12 years of age omfg- wish I was that emotionally well adjusted fr

damn sokka really said #codependecy

FUCK PLEASE TELL SOKKA ABOUT YHE FUCKINF VEINS PLEASE SREEDIE IM STRESSED AS ALL HELL

F U C K

Y E S

finally ohmygod

katara: I can feel the toxins in zuko’s blood

iroh externally: oh?

iroh internally: whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck

LMFAO zuko calling sokkatara momo while his body is actively trying to kill itself as a JOKE is the most zuko thing ever. the most comedic thing about this boy is his absolutely Disastrous timing (by which I mean it’s impeccable)

PRISON PALS I still love that moniker <3

noooo not zuko worrying about shen when we know damn well shen got kebabed >:(

can katara please tell sokka that zuko wants him by his side. like girl. please.

okay I really do Not want this to happen, nor do I think it actually Will happen bc uhm duh, but it would be like,, so ironic of zuko did just die. like they went through all that and for what LMAO (it’s not funny it’s Not Funny why am I giggling to myself)

FINALLY A MENTION IF THE MIRACULOUS TEETH KEEPING OF ZUKKA NATION

lmao sokka is worrying himself into a early grave bc he cares so much about zuko but he’s also 100% ready to immediately assume that zuko let him down by outing sokka as a liar (I mean he’s right, but still. harsh)

woah woah woah sokka calm your tits man, rasu might be sex on legs but your sister is only 14 and that’s just gross

SEE rasu my reasonable child <3 (he’s also so snarky I actually love him so. much.)

insane how fast sokka switches from “rasu >:(“ to “rasu :D” when he learns that rasu knows zuko lol

YOU CANT TAKE THE NERD OUT OF SOKKA BABYYY (same.)

“sipping the sauce” LMAO

uh yeah rasu I think jee has every right to be worried ngl

sokka is just out here exposing himself bc he’s JEALOUS I cannot anymore with this boy

“prince zuko is a character without trying to be one” yKW I JUST REALISED?? ZUKO HAS MAJOR MR BEAN ENERGY just more homocidal and uh,, traumatised

god thinking about jet’s amputation has me squeamish as FUCK

sokka rearranging his book stack so the sex book is in the middle is so relatable agsjekfpf it’s giving the same energy as getting a massage and hiding your underwear between the rest of your clothes after you get changed into the robe thing

not sokka being endeared by zuko’s love for the art of thievery <3 mood

SHIT FUCK QUON

DICKHEAD

OMG WAIT IS HE GONNA RECOGNISE SOKKA AS RHE BITXH THAT ZUKO KISSED PRIOR TO KIDNAPPING

damn. after all that and sokka just exposed himself. cant even blame it on zuko this time buddy.

you can always count on little sisters to put you back in your place (as the little sister can confirm)

woag.

not the angst train going past us like choo choo motherfuckers.

I am not going to bag katara in any way, shape, or form for pretending to be sokka to get information out of zuko bc I would’ve so done the same thing with like,, zero hesitation. maybe I’m just a lying liar who lies though so idk

anyways: screaming, crying, destroying your living room and smashing all your lightbulbs.

I’m so mad that there’s no zukka reunion BUT !! you did give us a library which I was SUPER not expecting but enthralled by nonetheless so ig I’ll have to forgive you

ANYWAYS hope life has retired from kicking you around bc that’s my job and I’m the only one allowed to make you suffer >:(

also I just reread my last comment and realised I already said I’d smash all your lightbulbs so ig this is just a trend now. have fun living in medieval times forever ex-lover <3

Oh shit that’s so true, Sokka is very Anna and Zuko is very Elsa haha. (Odd how that happened lol)

Soooo I do think Sokka depends on Zuko WAY too much, emotionally physically mentally - but if that’s all he has to keep him waking up in the morning who am I to stop him. (But building up his own physical strength, dealing with his own issues instead of just focusing on zukos trauma, and allowing other people in his life to get close to him and then help him would be GREAT ;))

Sokkatara is now canon I’m obsessed with the nickname leekie beloved your brain is too big.

Rasu was like “oh no this kids crazy” & then Sokka said “tell me about Zuko” and rasu twirls his hair and giggles “SURE” & that’s how friends are formed. Take notes.

Katara & Sokka just need to get into one big “getting along shirt” and call it a day… but I kind of think Sokka would try to claw his way out… so yeah we don’t do that.

Lies are being exposed and Sokka has ZERO ground to keep standing on so he better accept the help or he is really going to drown. Ha.

LEEKI STOP SMASHING MY LIGHTBULBS I GOT TWO FLASHLIGHTS AND I CANT DEAL WITH IT ANYMORE.

Alright ex love I will see you soon!! :) <3

[tobiosmilktea]

amor vincit omnia — akaashi keiji

     ↪︎ O2. I CHOOSE YOU

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i absolutely hated rewriting this chapter after it glitched out the first time 😔

since the beginning of your first year of university, you and the rest of your lovely friends had been eating in the library, specifically the large round table secluded and at the very corner for every meal without fail, and nobody really cared to stop you guys for two reasons. For one, no one really goes into that corner of the library that only collected dust, and two, you guys were there so often that you all befriended all the librarians to the point they stopped coming by to tell you guys to leave and eat in the canteen instead.

you were placed between daichi and kiyoko, counting the seconds by as they worked diligently in silence, munching on their lunch in the process. daichi tapped on the keys on his laptop rather quickly, the impact of each click being unnecessarily loud while kiyoko was cross-referencing documents and highlighting lines of never ending texts in a nice muted green color. tsukishima, on the other hand, was too preoccupied reading his book. eyes completely glued to the novel resting in his hands as he readjusted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. sugawara was out and about somewhere in the sea of towering bookshelves to find a book to read, mentioning something along the lines of—and you quote, ‘something to quench his thirst for entertainment.’ 

it was honestly just his fancy way of saying that he was bored out of his goddamn mind. perhaps you were the same, eyes wandering your surroundings for something, just something to capture your attention for a few moments. it wasn’t at all difficult, actually, considering how pretty your university was.

higashi university had always been your dream college. not just by its blatant aestheticism, but the academia as well. with tanaka and nishinoya being your main friend group during your high school days, it feels rather refreshing being surrounded by other incredibly smart individuals than constant brain rot.

(no offense to tanaka and nishinoya, you loved them to pieces)

and as your mind began to wander, so did your gaze. from admiring the library’s interior to looking out the window, your lips slightly curved down into a frown.

it was only noon and the clouds were already darkening the sun’s piercing rays that usually shone through the large domed windows of the library. it was going to rain soon and for a couple hours as well.

it’s quite peculiar to think about now after you received that damned chain letter. earlier this morning, while shoving on your wool sweater and trousers, that even the weather app on your phone didn’t show any signs of inclement weather until an hour after you texted your group chat in an awkward panic.

you didn’t really pine yourself to be so superstitious. if anything, you were the complete opposite, and yet, here you were worrying over the sound of rumbling thunder in the distance.

tsukishima lifted his gaze from the words printed on his novel as he pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. he flickered a look at you, a smirk appearing on his visage the moment he noticed the way you stared at a single drop of rain on the window, flowing down rather slowly.

that stupid letter of yours was still in your hand as well. he watched you fiddle with the corners, careful not to mess with the mahogany red wax stamp that sealed the envelope.

“have you thought about which poor, unfortunate soul you’re going to give it to?” he asked, smirk still annoyingly evident. this was the third time he asked you this question in a span of three hours.

you flicked your eyes towards him coolly before it fell onto the letter in your hands. "ask that question again and i’ll be sure to send it your way, tsukishima.”

“i’d like to see you try, honestly.” he muses, “your best bet is probably slipping it into one of your professor’s inboxes. maybe professor oshiro, by chance?”

“please,” you snort, “she only gave me one failing grade that i eventually made up in the end.”

“just give it to a random stranger,” daichi cuts in, eyes still glued to his laptop as he typed his fingers away. dark circles dusting his eyes like a dark shadow. law school was certainly doing its works on the likes of poor, poor sawamura daichi.

he shrugs, evidentially fatigued when he meets your eye.

“that way your grades won’t have to potentially deal with the consequences if your professor finds out.”

you nod, humming in response. that would be terrible.

sugawara then emerges from the maze of bookshelves, holding up a book towards you with a smile on his face. “found one,” he beams, tossing it atop the messy table.

you reach for the book as sugawara pulls out his chair whilst he mutters something to his daichi about his whereabouts.

“wuthering heights?” you say the title aloud and capture kiyoko’s attention along with it.

“yeah. have you guys read it?” the silver-haired boy asks. he takes your opinions quite seriously knowing how much of an avid reader you and kiyoko were. whenever he needed book recommendations or opinions, he would always go to you two.

you nod, “i quite liked it.”

“some parts tend to be slow, though.” adds in kiyoko, taking the novel from your hands and flipping through the pages briefly before slipping back over towards sugawara. “it should keep you occupied for a few days.”

you chuckle slightly, giving her a look. “you forget how slow suga is at reading. the few days it takes us to finish a book is a good month for him.”

offense coated sugawara’s expression as he lets out a scoff in retaliation. “don’t you have a chain letter to give to someone?”

“she’s stalling,” tsukishima teases.

“am not!”

“then want to go give it to a random stranger then?”

your brows draw together, “right now?”

tsukishima nods as he stuffs his belongings back into his bag. “i’ll come with you for shits and giggles.”

a sigh escapes you, rolling your eyes as you take a look at the letter one last time and wanting to laugh at yourself for doing all this. a full chain letter from front to back, with the first quarter of it is you viciously apologizing that you had to do this in neat cursive handwriting, all written in fifteen minutes.

you gave in.

“fine,” you huff as you grab your own bag as well.

“good luck,” kiyoko muses up at you as you squeeze past her.

tsukishima waits for you until you’re by his side, strides shorter than usual just to match your pace as you two navigate through the labyrinthine arrays of bookshelves. the letter was in your hand, all small and discrete for a quick and easy delivery to an unsuspecting victim. your palm perspired slightly as you kept your eyes open, scanning for an easy person as you were aware of the possible repercussions.

you could easily get in trouble for doing something this childish, but you were in too deep already.

“hurry up and find someone, we’re almost at the entrance already.” tsukishima hisses in a harsh whisper.

“i’m working on it!” you hiss back.

“working on what?” a familiar voice asks then, capturing both you and tsukishima’s attention, whipping your heads towards the owner.

kuroo combed his freehand through his hair while he had two textbooks tucked under his other arm. he gave you a smile.

you never really got close with kuroo despite meeting him at nationals a few years back. despite only talking a few times due to him being good friends with tsukishima, you knew he was nice, incredibly smart in the sciences, and yet oddly awkward for someone as good looking as he.

not him, you thought to yourself, too nice.

“a little project,” the blond immediately answers just like that. “our majors tend to overlap sometimes, so we decided to partner up.”

“nice, i’m here with my friends to study as well.” kuroo states, causing your eyes to scan behind them for any evidence of their rambunctious selves.

like kuroo, you weren’t close with any of them either. if anything, they were just mere acquaintances on the precipice of becoming strangers. regardless, they all seemed quite nice too from your lack of interaction with them.

tsukishima says something in response then, igniting a short little catch-up conversation with an old high school friend as you lay distracted. your eyes flicked down to a study table in front of you, one of the chairs just a foot shy from you had a satchel hanging off of its side. the brown leather flap was wide open with its owner nowhere in sight as you gave your surroundings a once over.

carefully, you made your way over the table, pretending as if you were taking something out of your bag as kuroo was being distracted by the blond. neither of them were looking at you fortunately. as you placed your bag back over your shoulder, you slipped the letter right into the open satchel right at the same time–the envelope falling and disappearing into the depths of the bag.

“i’ve got to get to my next lecture,” you say to the two men, giving tsukishima a sly wink that it was a job well done. “i’ll see you guys around.”

checkmate.

fun facts! —

after kiyoko graduated and moved to tokyo, (y/n) and kiyoko kept in touch by sending each other cute handwritten letters

no one really is aware of that area in the back of the library since no one goes in that section often (this is uhh,, an important detail for later 😳)

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@channiechanchan @elianetsantana @suhkusa @agaashesmilktea @dwcljh @duhsies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @kitsunetea @morpheus-rex @noeminemi @ntimacy @kurokenchan @kittyddandnyla @amboisez @komouri @stargirlara @itsmeaudrieee @immxnty @spicyshinsou @bombardia @yammerss @crescenttooru @tadashi-simp @sunanyaa @saikishairclip @marvel-ing-at-it-all @seijqhigh @normalisthenewnorm @allielozoya @peteunderoos @inflxxtions @peg-legz4 @kawafika @apollochjld @bap-kingdom @yongboxerrr @kenssister @galacticyoongs

[alexaplaysgames]

Hideaway

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC

Fandom: Fictif (Last Legacy)

Rating: T (swearing, dorks making out)

Words: ~2600

Description: Felix and his barista explore his childhood home.

Notes: Felix has all my uwus 🥺 did not post five fics in one day (yet) but I might if convinced.

Thanks to @callioops for the inspiration :)

Please go easy on me I am in no way a fanfiction writer by nature but my love for Felix has evidently overpowered my insecurities ;)

Edit: Uhh.... I was debating between settings for this and realized I made it super ambiguous, so I’ve edited it now!

Warning: This is heavily canon divergent now. Oops.

I’m not even sure how I ended up here, to be quite honest.

But I would’ve had to be crazy to have predicted such a thing- a portal to another dimension (is this another dimension?), a towering manor overflowing with stuffy furniture and servants, a raven-haired goth (although he would protest to such a description) with a bird skull strung around his neck. Honesty, his fashion sense is questionable, though admittedly charming, but I nonetheless can’t seem to get him out of my head.

No, this is the stuff of fantasies born to the insane, of perhaps just the slightly deranged.

I’m not protesting, however, quite the contrary. As I pull Felix through the winding corridors of his childhood home, trying not to thing about the smooth softness of his cool hand in mine, I can honestly say that I haven’t had such fun in a very, very long time.

“Stop, stop!” Felix laughingly protests between laboured breaths, tugging on my hand. I gradually slow to a halt, our footsteps echoing in the large, surprising empty corridor, and Felix slips his hand from mine to brace his hands on his knees as he pants. I try to ignore the resulting disappointment that pangs in my chest and grin.

“You doing okay there, bird boy?”

Apparently, he still has the energy to raise his head and glare.

“My apologies, dear barista, that I have not your physical endurance.” He rolls his eyes, then pauses and smirks. “My being a magical prodigy has spared me the effort of such trivial things as exercise.” He spits the last word out with a scoff.

My grin widens as I saunter closer, placing a finger under his chin to raise his gaze to meet mine from where he is still bent over and panting.

“Perhaps we’ll just have to work on your stamina then, won’t we?”

Felix’s cheeks flush that pretty red that I know has nothing to do with exertion as he ducks his head. I smirk as I turn to examine the nearby wall, giving him time to collect himself. How fun it is to make him blush.

A row of framed paintings lines the wall, all of the equally bizarre. I try to make sense of the faces in them, but the harder I look, the more blurred they become. They are all covered in a discernible layer of dust, indicating that this hallway is rarely used. A peculiar sort of coldness rolls off of the strange pieces, one that has me averting my eyes from the freaky, obviously magically concealed paintings.

“Do you think anyone will find us here?”

I question as I turn to see Felix straightening and running a hand through his hair. I try not to let my eyes follow the motion, choosing instead to meet his icy gray gaze.

He seems perturbed as he looks around, biting his lip. It’s as if he’s just realized where we are. His fault for letting me lead him through the monstrous maze that is his home.

“No. Escell has not entered this corridor in years. I’m surprised he has not blocked it off. He rather enjoys avoiding all things that make him uncomfortable.”

“And what makes him uncomfortable about this wing?”

“Too many memories, my dear. Memories he would prefer to keep locked up.” Though he says it with a smirk, tapping one black-painted fingernail against his temple, it comes out only as sounding rather sad.

I open my mouth to reply, but am interrupted by a sharp-

“Master Felix! Enough with your foolish hiding!”

Felix’s eyes widen as he visibly flinches. “Great goddess, have mercy.”

The voice of Madam Usoro, an angry, mean, lump of a woman, sounds like it is coming from just down the long hall. I cringe inwardly, and probably outwardly, at the thought of meeting her again. According to Felix, she was one of his many childhood nannies (the only one that actually managed to survive his torments), and judging by her scowl, she hasn’t had a “me day” since then.

Unfortunately, Escell also assigned her the task of watching over Felix.

“Ridiculous,” he huffs, “it is as if I am nine years old again!”

My gaze darts frantically between the doors lining the walls, not sure where any of them lead.

I grab Felix’s sleeve and tug, though his eyes stay trained on the end of the hallway, his expression resigned.

“Felix!” I hiss, “which of these goddamn doors will get us out of here?”

He merely sighs. “Why bother? My inevitable capture fast approaches, thus I have decided to be accepting of my fate. I will remain here as a prisoner for the rest of my days while Escell continues to treat me like a babbling infant.”

Great. Now really isn’t the time for his dramatics. I lunge forward and lock my hand around his wrist, tugging him once more down the endless corridor of doors. I feel Felix stiffen as I go to open the first door that catches my eye, but I yank it open and pull him inside before he can protest. The door shuts with a satisfying click and we are alone in a strange, dark room.

“Felix?” I cannot see a thing.

A flash of light, and then Felix appears, a green

orb of light glowing in his palm. I suck in a breath as I take in the captivating way the light hits his features, highlighting his long eyelashes and silvery eyes.

“Apologies! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I shake my head, unable to divulge to him the truth. I can’t have him knowing about my strange infatuation. Though I often indulge in what I consider to be harmless flirtation, I know Felix obviously isn’t interested in me. Just days ago he was crying over me, thinking I was someone else! The thought is sobering, and I shake my head.

“What is this room?”

“Ah,” he appears uncharacteristically lost for words. “This is... nothing. We can wait here, I’m certain she’ll cease her endless badgering soon enough.”

I send him a thumbs up before I turn to examine the room. I might as well look around, if there’s nothing else to do but sit around.

“Wait!” Felix’s sharp cry is especially harsh in the quiet of the strange room.

My head jerks up. “What is it?”

“I simply think it best not to carelessly voyage through the uncertainties of the dark. You haven’t a clue what you could stumble upon.”

Something about his tone sounds off, but I sigh and move back towards the door anyway. I have learned that there is no use arguing with him.

I’m almost near the safe haven of Felix’s orb of light when my foot slips on something. I manage to catch myself, but lean down and pick up the offensive item out of curiosity.

It’s a bound, leather notebook. It looks worn, from what I can tell in the faint light, and I flip it open to the inside cover, ignoring Felix’s faint protests in the back of my mind. On the right page are lines of scrawling, messy and unintelligible handwriting. But that’s not what catches my eye. On the left, the page reads:

Property of Felix Iskandar Escellun

I lift my gaze to meet Felix’s guilty visage.

“This is yours?”

He cringes but attempts to hide it with a shrug. The movement does not at all look natural on him.

“You are aware I was raised here?” He snatches the journal out of my grasp with his free hand, then quirks a brow. “Why are you surprised to find an object previously in my possession?”

Felix is an atrocious liar. I glance around the room and suddenly it hits me where we are.

“This was your bedroom, wasn’t it?”

Although Felix is, I assume, currently staying somewhere else, his reaction leaves me with no doubt in my mind that this used to be his room.

Felix bites his lip (he really needs to stop doing that lest I get distracted) then slowly nods. With another sigh, he presses his palms together, then spreads them apart until green light flows throughout the room, the night vision goggle-like effect making it look like we’re on an episode of ghost hunters.

“I would rather not spend time sifting through old memories,” Felix says quietly from beside me as I observe my surroundings.

The room is relatively sparsely decorated. In the centre of the opposite wall is a large, canopy bed, the sheets tossed to the side and the curtains haphazardly thrown about. A large desk is pressed up against one wall, overflowing with notebooks and stacks of parchment, and a bookcase on the opposite wall is spilling over with messily arranged books. A large, elegant armchair is piled high with odd boxes near the middle of the room, and an open armoire is empty save for a pile of clothing laying at the bottom. The whole place is a mess, and though the furniture is very fine, Felix’s attempts to hide that fact are quite obvious. The few windows are boarded up, the curtains surrounding them singed. In fact, there are several odd burn marks on the floor, and I don’t think they’re due to the large stone fireplace.

“Wow.” Very eloquent of me to say.

“Ugh. I despise this room.”

I drift curiously about making note of the objects in the room. Aside from the pieces of writing, there is very little here to signify that the room was Felix’s.

I walk over to the window and am pleased to find the the large wooden board covering it is relatively easy to dislodge. Behind it, there is a window seat, and I glance out the window to see a view of the rolling hills that stretch far and beyond, illuminated by the moonlight.

Felix flops onto the window seat with a sigh. I sit beside him and try to ignore the fact that our knees touch.

Felix squeezes his eyes shut. “I apologize for my theatrics, dear barista, but I would truly rather leap off the highest tower of the castle of Porrima than suffer through living in this room again.”

I refrain from telling him that I did, in fact, almost leap off the castle’s highest tower, and it is not as fun as he makes it out to be.

He hardly ever speaks of his past without flippant disregard for true emotion. “Will you tell me why it was so bad, Felix?”

His eyes shoot open and he scoffs, though his eyes glisten in the moonlight which shines through the window.

His voice is small as he replies. “I was forced every day to live a life I hated in hopes of pleasing a father whose love I already knew I would never earn. I have never felt so useless, so pathetically desperate, as I felt here. And here I am, back again. All my work to escape this place has been for naught.”

My heart aches for him, the expression on his face causing a physical pain in my chest.

“Felix...” I say softly, and before I even register what I’m doing, my hand is grabbing his.

Felix meets my gaze, eyes wide. Every time I touch him he gets so surprised, and I wonder how often he has been touched lovingly in his life.

“I would never think you useless, Felix, never. You are so extraordinary, so brilliant, and it’s a shame that you can’t see it. You have done so much for me and... I need you. Not just to get home, I don’t even know if I care about that anymore, but because you’ve make me so happy, Felix. Being with you feels like being able to breathe. I know that everyone else has left you, but I promise you, I never will. Never.”

His lips part in shock at my words and this time I can’t stop my eyes from flickering down to his mouth. He is so beautiful. I would do anything to kiss him, even just once.

Felix raises his hand and his fingers draw lines down my cheek, making me shiver. Then he leans forward and presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

“Thank you.”

The words are said so quietly that I barely hear them, but I don’t need to with the gratitude that seems to roll off of him in waves.

“Felix?”

“Hm?”

A pause.

“Do you ever think about me?”

“I... I- of course I do. You have consumed every aspect of my waking life.” I can hear a slight teasing in his voice.

I lick my lips. “Do you ever think of me like you think of Rime?”

I can feel him flinch at the name and am about to apologize before he speaks.

“Rime is gone. A necromancer knows better than to waste energy attempting to recall what has been truly lost.”

“Oh... I-“

He sounds so incredibly sad. Whoever Rime is, I’ve no doubt that Felix loved this person. Though I know I shouldn’t feel jealous of a dead person, envy ripples through my stomach all the same.

“I... do. Think about you.”

And the meaning has changed. He pulls back with a shaky breath, cheeks bright red. “I know I am not the most naturally affectionate person, but I-“

He thinks about me. My heart does a fluttering little happy dance at the thought.

Screw it. If I leave this world, I don’t want to have any regrets.

And that’s the thought that propels me forward as I crash my lips into his with a longing I have never before felt. Felix gasps against my mouth and stiffens, and I panic. What the hell am I doing? But no sooner has the thought left my mind then he relaxes and kisses me back. He kisses me back! And I’ve never felt anything more wonderful.

His hands come to set at my waist as mine cup his face, feeling his jaw work as he kisses me and that makes it all the more real that he is kissing me and this isn’t some sort of fervour dream. I pull his hair free from its tie and tangle my fingers in the silken locks of his hair, and god, it’s just as soft as I thought I would be.

Felix kisses like he talks- a little hestitant, full of passion, and enough to make your head spin. It feels like I’m falling, I don’t know which way it’s up and which is down, just like when he rambles on about spells I could never hope to comprehend, but the drop is thrilling because I’ve wanted it so badly and for so long. At first it’s slow, soft, but I want, so I press myself harder against him in effort to let him know that’s it’s okay for him to let himself take from me what he needs.

HIs hands tighten around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, hands drifting over my sides, and I smile against his lips at his momentary display of forwardness. I retaliate by tugging on his hair that flows between my fingers like water, causing his lips to part against mine as he gasps, the perfect opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth and I’m worried that I’m moving too fast but he moans. I sling a leg over his thigh and we’re grabbing at each other like horny teenagers now-

Felix pulls away with a gasp (I knew we had to work on his stamina). We’re both breathing hard, echoing in the quiet of the large room, and he blinks rapidly; he looks rather like someone hit him over the head with a brick.

I smile at him, running a thumb over his lower lip, and he lets out a pained noise somewhere between a whimper and a squeak.

“I liked that,” I whisper.

“You- you did?”

I nod. “Of course, Felix. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

“R-really?”

I roll my eyes, responding by leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to his lips.

“Me too.” He whispers it like a secret, one that I’ll gladly hold forever in my heart.

Felix tentatively reaches and takes my hand in his, flipping it over and drawing little patterns into my palm as he turns to stare out the window again. It’s soothing, and I don’t really pay attention to the patterns. But after a while I think he starts inadvertently drawing hearts into my skin. It’s rather cute; I didn’t take him for a romantic.

“Master Felix!” The voice sounds from not too far outside Felix’s bedroom door.

“Shit.”

I’m afraid I don’t possess his way with words.

Our eyes meet and we both burst into a fit of giggles as the sounds of Madam Usoro’s footsteps gets louder. Trapped as we are, she’s bound to find us soon. Somehow, I’m not worrried. Nothing could ever take Felix from me.

And he knows that I will never leave him.

[happymetalgirl]

The 15 Worst Metal Albums of 2020

This list might have been shorter if not for my running into a few awful albums at the end of the year that I had been avoiding wisely up until that point. My morbid curiosity got the best of me, and what’s done is done. I’m paying the price for it by going back over the worst albums I heard all year. Let’s get this over with.

15. Ghøstkid - Ghøstkid

This was the debut solo album from the former singer of Eskimo Callboy, who had a pretty decent backing of hype heading into this release under the Ghøstkid moniker, but with the namesake frontman putting in no more than the standard performance on a bunch of poorly assembled tracks in an unappealing and dated poppy metalcore style, ultimately the eponymous album wound up disappointing me pretty substantially.

14. Powerman 5000 - The Noble Rot

Powerman 5000 are just such a low-rate band that even one of their more okay albums makes it here. While not as astoundingly, mind-numbingly basic as their worst material, The Noble Rot is still some of the most unevolved, underwritten, and forgettable electro rock and industrial metal I’ve heard from a big name artist. This is some eighth grade level songwriting here, and that’s a fuckin’ feat for a band that’s been around longer than any eighth grader has.

13. Corey Taylor - CMFT

There was a lot of hype around Corey Taylor finally coming out with a solo project, and it was pretty damn disappointing to hear a bunch of uninteresting classic rock too tacky for Stone Sour. CMFT focuses on the fun side that has made its creator such an enigmatic figurehead in the metal press, but its one-note approach does little more than highlight Corey Taylor’s songwriting deficiencies. I really could have seen this album turning out better too, with just some more time and care put into it, if a fun time of an album is what Taylor was going for. Unfortunately Taylor tried to make a party album and a grand ceremonial tribute to his greatness at the same time, and ego-petting and partying don’t really go hand in hand.

12. Evildead - United States of Anarchy

It has some good bones underneath it, but Evildead’s long overdue (if anyone was asking for it) third album wears out its welcome so quickly with some of the most adolescent thrash I’ve heard in a while. The band gets some good rhythms going and the vocals aren’t terrible either, fitting the older thrash style pretty well. But the band’s predictable formula tires out very quickly, and the political commentary of the lyrics is too cheesy and cringeworthy to ignore. It seems every year we get a handful of these kinds of albums that try to get into the simmering thrash revival with some ultra retro approach, and a good portion of those albums are from long-defunct bands who figure their primitive old-school approach might be a selling point despite their sounds often being even more juvenile against the backdrop of today’s metal landscape. So it’s not a huge surprise or anything to hear an album as ham-fisted and corny as United States of Anarchy; this year it just happened to be Evildead.

11. Five Finger Death Punch - F8

They may not always place highest in this list, but they always manage to make it here, and this was actually an improvement on the last album, not that that’s saying all that much. In fact, I’d say this is the only time in the band’s history that they actually shifted their trajectory upwards. But while the band’s ugly continual creative decay has been a hard thing to watch and made them the five finger punching bag of the metal world, there seems to be a large enough swath of mouthbreathing chuds who love their incoherent derivative shit and flock to their shows enough to put them in lucrative headlining slots and on top of the metal world. Goddamn that sure sounds a lot like someone else we all know doesn’t it. I’ve criticized them plenty in the past, and while indeed an improvement, F8 only mildly remedies the numerous problems with Five Finger Death Punch. Still septic to the system are the predictably formulaic and tiresome songwriting, the stale production, the corny butt rock choruses, the shitty bootlicking worldview that bleeds into Ivan Moody’s douchey and faux-deep lyrics, the contrived ballads and country-dabbling. Even with an improvement in the flow of the track listing and a few more bangers that somewhat hearken back to their first album, F8 is still an over-thought and overly calculated batch of Sirius XM fodder that’s trying to please everyone in some superficial way. I’ll grant that it seems as though the band realized they had been giving the more metal-immersed side of their fanbase that has been with them the longest smaller and smaller crumbs with each new album. I’m not gonna hold my breath for this being anything more than placating for the time being; I’m sure the next album will find the band back on whatever bullshit they feel (or their execs feel) they need to be on to pull enough streams from inattentive radio metal bros. I always end with the disclaimer that I still steadfastly stand by the band’s first two albums, and even American Capitalist to a degree, and that I totally acknowledge the immense potential for greatness this band could seemingly at any time decide to fulfill. Ivan Moody is a talented vocalist with a lot of star power and they really could have been the second coming of Pantera or singlehandedly ignited a new wave of American groove metal and metalcore or carried it on their own. But instead the band have followed the money on the path of least resistance to fast-track their way to the top of festival tickets, which I’m sure affords them quite enough luxury and comfort in life, more than most bands these days get, but it doesn’t exempt them from criticism, and unfortunately I think their legacy will show that they were a lowest common denominator kind of band at the end of the day when they could have been, again, like a second Pantera or something.

10. Anvil - Legal at Last

Another year, another album of Anvil unable to evolve past their prototypic thrash of their forty-year-old origins. Though as tacky as ever, Anvil actually also managed to make a mild improvement on their last album on the musical front at least. The songs are a little more energetic and easier to get through, if not for the lyricism though. Anvil lyrics are never anything beyond a fourth-grader’s poetry assignment for their English class, but some of the Facebook boomer lyrics here are fucking cringy dude. A quick look at the track listing will let you know exactly where you’re gonna find the juiciest cringe, but honestly, even as far as cringe goes it’s nothing comedically special and cringe culture in general is played out anyway. So do yourself a favor and just ignore Anvil the way they deserve to be ignored.

9. Halestorm - Reimagined

It feels a little harsh to place an EP here, especially for a band whose album back in 2018 was one of the best things I have heard to come out of hard rock in a long time. But these stripped back covers and revisions of songs from the band’s catalog just suck all the oomph out of them, perhaps making the case by contrast for the importance of the role the rest of the band behind the indeed charismatic powerhouse frontwoman Lzzy Hale play in making their sound what it is. It’s unlikely this points to any kind of new direction for them, so I’m not particularly worried about them running into this problem again. Plus, I don’t think Halestorm and Lzzy Hale are like fundamentally incompatible with more ballad-y rock music, this forced balladization of older songs just did not work, and it makes perfect sense as to why.

8. Gama Bomb - Sea Savage

The fact that this album is only number 8 on this list is just depressing for its reminder of just how much shittier it got this year. The fact that there are seven albums from this yet worse than Sea Savage, goddamn. With one exception, this was maybe the stupidest album I heard all year, at least in the thrash department it was. God this thing is a sugar high mess. I feel like a toddler on an entire bag of Halloween candy or an elementary schooler on a 2-liter of Mountain Dew sat at a computer to program a thrash album would’ve probably come up with something like this. The erratic operatic highs and dumbass lyrics, it all just embodies everything that ever made thrash look bad. It’s like that drunk guy at a party who’s hyper as shit and doing a bunch of crazy stunts for attention because he thinks it’ll make the people there like him more, but really he’s just embarrassing himself. Yeah, definitely the worst thrash metal album I heard all year, and one I wish I could unhear.

7. Amaranthe - Manifest

One of the albums I was avoiding but reviewed late out of my own weird sense of obligation that I wasn’t surprised to find only validated my reasons for avoiding it in the first place. The weird combo of dancy pop music and power metal isn’t as crazy of an idea as it might seem at first thought. In fact, that’s basically in part what Babymetal are doing, and actually getting better and better at. But Amaranthe get the worst of both worlds with Manifest, unsavory pop melodies and utterly generic symphonic metal to make for something I’m not at all surprised I was so repulsed by.

6. Trapt - Shadow Work

Yep, I listened to it. God, no wonder this band is flailing in irrelevance with aggressive MAGA nonsense being their only audible desperate plea for attention. The album, thank fuck, isn’t steeped in the same bitch boy tantrum that the band’s singer has engaged in all year to the point of getting his band’s Facebook page banned for hate speech, and the music isn’t like offensively poorly made or anything like that either. There’s clearly a conscious meeting of the baseline requirements for the type of music they make, but holy fuck it’s so damn flavorless and predictable. It’d be one thing if this was the trendy thing to be doing, but this diet hard rock for people who think Three Days Grace is too wild has been out of fashion for over a decade. And Trapt are just recycling the same dumb formula that overstayed it’s welcome in the early 2000’s. Yeah, I’m not surprised at all, but god, it’s the kind of thing that has to be apparent to the band themselves too unless they’re lacking of any and all self-awareness. Trapt have thrown themselves to the forefront of the online metal world’s discourse by being an annoying, toxic, and childish presence all year; the silver lining being the unity among metalheads in roasting their laughable posturing about their Pandora numbers and the juicy memes about their one hit “Headstrong” that rile the snowflake singer up without fail. And this shit album is just another reason to laugh at them and more fuel to roast their crybaby Trumper frontman with. Go back into your hole, Trapt. 3/10

5. Unleash the Archers - Abyss

I talked about it in my review, but there really is only one simple thing that sinks this album so low. And that is just how incredibly low-effort and lifeless it is with a genre that’s supposed to be so life-affirming. Power metal isn’t the most highly revered genre in metal, but that’s just for its cheesiness. I love it; when it’s at its best, it’s some of the most inspiring metal music out there and I genuinely wish there was a bigger demand across the board for it. But Unleash the Archers just sound so flat and unenthusiastic in this album, and, sorry, in power metal, unabashed enthusiasm is just nonnegotiable. The guitar parts are phoned in and lacking in imagination, and the vocals especially are so narrow-range, it’s all so antithetical to the ethos of power metal and it doesn’t make a strong case for itself. I’ll leave it there; this album is lazy and lifeless so I feel no need to waste any of my time and work on it.

4. Burzum - Thûlean Mysteries

Ol’ Varg must’ve needed a new wizard hat or camouflage pants or whatever goofy shit he’s been doing since retiring the Burzum name to focus on his racism and LARPing because I thought Burzum was supposed to be finished. I thought you were done with Burzum, Varg. Apparently not too done to not dump an hour and a half of embarrassingly half-baked ambient dungeon synth song fragments that sound, so many of them, quite obviously unfinished. Varg Vikernes has been a washed-up shell of the musical god the various weirdos who idolize him make him out to be for a long time now, and it has shown in the gradually degrading work he had put out after his release from prison. Yet after clearly not caring about creating music in any meaningful way for a long time, Varg drops this heap of shit in his fans’ laps. I suppose they deserve it, but I’m sure some of them are delusional enough to lap it up with a smile on their face while still believing their white nationalist idol to be a musical genius. Again, it’s entirely dull ambient music, not metal at all, but it deserves to be shit upon for its astounding laziness and purposelessness.

3. Asking Alexandria - Like a House on Fire

Doubling down on exactly the unflattering crossover of pop music with their significantly sanitized butt rock in their apparent quest for arena glory that started with their self-titled album back in 2017, Asking Alexandria’s bid for the big spotlight that Imagine Dragons occupies didn’t get any stronger this year with Like a House on Fire. After three or four years of aiming for this style, the band still aren’t even all that competent with the basics of fucking pop rock, which is pretty downright laughable. Honestly, for an album so high up here on my shit list, my feelings on it are more or less just that of unsurprised disappointment; as soon as I got a feel for what the band were doing with the album, I knew it was going to be a mess of predictable results. And lo and behold. This was just such a wholly inexcusably floppy paper towel of an album, and one more Asking Alexandria release I know I won’t be returning to ever again.

2. Hollywood Undead - New Empire, Vol. 2

Coming on at the last minute to get on the scoreboard, reliably, is Hollywood Undead. When I reviewed both volumes of this project earlier, I referred to them as “corporate Linkin Park”, and I stand by that 100%. This album especially showcases nothing but what an incoherent, vapid, clout-chasing act they are, with such a corny, focus-grouped sound that sounds like it was made in a lab by a bunch of out-of-touch boomers. God, they could’ve been safe too if they had left it with the more tolerable first volume back in January, but this follow-up sequel from just this month was exactly why I had avoided listening to the first installment in the first place. And I should’ve never played this second one either. The album opener, “Medicate”, is probably the worst song I sat through in my own volition this year, and the rest of the album doesn’t get much better. It’s nothing new for Hollywood Undead after I gave their 2017 album my award for least favorite album of that year: more unfitting interplay between machismo posturing Eminem-cosplay and the sappiest, wimpiest radio rock and pop choruses; more cringy tough-guy struggle bars; more forgettable-at-best instrumentals. Congrats again, Hollywood Undead, you made one of the worst albums of the year once again.

But even worse than Hollywood Undead is an album that I feel like is already so legendarily bad, that there is no other album that could’ve been sat here. It had to be this one.

1. Six Feet Under - Nightmares of the Decomposed

Shitty metal bands everywhere can breathe a sigh of relief any year Six Feet Under decide to put out new music because any album they release is just about bound to end up as everyone’s #1 worst album of the year, and boy is that guarantee becoming more and more airtight with each successive release. It’s truly astounding too how Six Feet Under manages to outdo themselves every time. I don’t even want to think about what could possibly come after Nightmares of the Decomposed; we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. But for now, holy fermented shit, this thing is not just bad, it’s like the holy grail of terrible TERRIBLE albums and I don’t want to know what kind of apocalyptically despicable album Chris Barnes and company could possibly conjure to outdo this one. And make no mistake, it’s still Chris Barnes dragging this band down. I gave this album a 1/10 instead of a 0/10 because there was at least a sliver of salvageable instrumentation on it, as thin of a sliver as it was, a few halfway decent musical ideas of you squinted hard enough. The instrumentalists are checked out and clearly just participating for the paycheck, but I can’t even imagine what kind of professional instrumental performance could possibly overshadow the embarrassment that Chris Barnes put to tape in the studio here. Maybe that says it, because it honestly sounds utterly unprofessional. It’s baffling how this got through management and sound engineering to be released to the public because I don’t think I’ve ever even heard any amateur high school band’s vocalist sound this bad. Vocal ingenuity is generally something to be applauded in the metal world, and pioneers like Randy Blythe, Dani Filth, and Travis Ryan deserve all the praise they get for their innovation with dirty metal vocals, yet what Chris Barnes has “invented” here on Nightmares of the Decomposed to compensate for his continually-deteriorating vocals is just sad. The man simply cannot perform highs anymore, clearly, and the alternative is this fucking comical, cartoonish squealing that sounds more like a bratty toddler gargling their own snot than it does anything fitting for a death metal record, even a death metal record at stupid and cheesy as Nightmares of the Decomposed. Chris Barnes should be thankful that metal is not a sport and that there’s not nearly as much of an abundance of performance statistics to point to and analyze to see what kind of records are broken in a legendarily awful performance. I feel like if there were any kind of performance stats to pull up, this album would have to break some kinds of records. Like this is worse than that 7-1 Germany-Brazil World Cup game, this would be like if the Brazilian team all got unholy levels of blazed and repeatedly scored on themselves because they kept going the wrong way and kicking the ball into their own net, and then pissing their fucking shorts. Even in 7-1 defeat, Brazil had more dignity than Chris Barnes here. Six Feet Under and their label have to know they are a laughing stock and that people will listen to them at this point for the sheer entertainment value of how mind-blowingly awful they sound. It’s not an illegitimate marketing tactic, and it’s the only explanation I can come up with for how this passed inspection. If that’s their mission, to be a spectacle and instill cringe in death metal fans in a regular ritual of comically stupid performances across every successive album, they’re sure doing it, and I guess this baffling headache-trophy is their well-earned prize. Congratulations Six Feet Under, you did it again! Worst metal album of the year.

[piracytheorist]

@darkcolinodonorgasm replied to your post “Hey so apparently there's a graphic novel for Kiss Me Judas. I'm not...”

He doesn't look enough like Colin to make me spend all that money. I'll buy a paperback version of the book IF they put him on the cover, and only then 🤣🤣

Honestly, I'm so underwhelmed by Phineas’ appearance in the graphic novel. And not only because I’m very very biased towards Colin’s absolutely perfect, heaven-sent face, but because of some basic ideas around “conventional attractiveness”.

First of all, Phineas is supposed to be 33 years old. It’s even mentioned in one of the preview pages. And it doesn’t seem to me that the artist tried that much to show him that way.

I may be doing it a disservice here, as there are only a few indicative pages of the whole novel. And sure, you can attribute some of the “oldness” to his drug abuse and complete lack of healthy habits, but like... idk. Colin is nearing 40 and I still think he’ll make a better Phineas. 

But aside from that, it’s the... weird balance in the characters’ attractiveness.

Phineas’ face is more... harsh. More detailed. Jude’s is more simple, more aimed at her simple, youthful beauty and foregoing the small scar on the side of her mouth from the novel. And like, look. If you want me to believe that a woman as beautiful as this had sex with a guy, stole his kidney, then the next time she met him, she invited him to her room and gave him a bj... you’re gonna have to give me something. It’s not like the story tries to sugarcoat the romance. It makes perfectly clear how problematic it is, so there’s no reason to try and make Jude less shallow by having her choose to stay with Phineas for reasons other than his looks. I’m not saying you can’t find this face attractive, but for the purposes of the story, you need to make it clear that he’s a goddamn snack even in his condition, and when we’re talking about graphic art, it’s much easier to create a face that’s “conventionally attractive”.

Again, speaking with caution, because you’re still valid if you wet your panties with that face above and find the face below an offense to your eyes:

But the point is to highlight the fact that despite his flaws, Phineas is a sexy motherfucker - making Jude’s decision to stay with him make sense in a way. A twisted and shallow way, but that’s no surprise coming from Jude. And when you have visual, you can make the narrative highlight how someone’s attractiveness plays a role in the story, even though there will be people in the audience that will not find that person attractive, for their own reasons.

Otherwise, if you make the male protagonist an average looking guy, leaning towards unattractiveness because of bad habits, while his female love interest is sexy af and way out of his league... it’s just a straight male fantasy, and that's gonna limit your audience. And in the case of the graphic novel, it is limiting.

[letstalkaboutentertainment]

Thoughts on Romeo es Julia

Oh my goodness, no one has actually asked for my opinion on anything before, so first of all, thank you for taking my blog title seriously, because I really do LOVE talking about musicals!

Anyway on to my answer, I really enjoyed it. Visually I was super into how dark the sets are and how early 2000s all the clothing and hair was. I haven’t watched any productions of the french Roméo et Juliette: de la Haine à l'Amour, except for a clip of Les Rois du monde from the DVD recording at the Palais des Congrès. And I have to say, I’m not a fan of the French costumes. Just from that one clip, I can see that the sets are similarly spacious and fairly darkly lit, but those French costumes just feel out of place. I don’t know, maybe it’s just that they don’t mesh well with the feel and sound the musical is going for.

Speaking of sound, being an English speaking Canadian, my knowledge of musicals is pretty centred around Broadway, Off-Broadway and West End produced musicals. (There’s a few Canadian made and obscure musicals I’m into, but they don’t really matter.) My point is, musicals in English have a certain sound to them and European pop music also has a certain sound to it that I’m not used to hearing. So it was interesting hearing that unfamiliar style being applied to something I’m familiar with and having it mix in with more traditional musical styles. The heaviness of the strings through most of the score was also pretty nice.

Overall I’d say my greatest challenge when listening to the show was getting past how odd Hungarian sounds to me. Hungarian doesn’t even sound harsh to English speakers, like German, it’s just… odd. It’s not Germanic, it’s not Latin/Romantic, it’s not even Indo-European, it’s just Uralic weirdness to my uninformed Canadian ears. (I mean no offense if you are Hungarian or speak it, I’m just trying to summarize how odd Hungarian sounds to English speakers.) Basically, I’m used to hearing sung English, French, Spanish and Japanese, so Hungarian was an adjustment, but I was okay after about 20 minutes.

I freaking adore Bereczki Zoltán now that I know who he is, the man is a goddamn treasure. There wasn’t a single second of his performance that I didn’t enjoy. His singing, dancing, acting, everything was 10/10, I love the way he plays Mercutio. I also enjoyed how extra Tybalt was and poor Dolhai Attila. He knew he couldn’t compete with Bereczki Zoltán in the dance numbers, so he just gave up. That’s okay though, his voice got him through everything. I also really liked Júlia’s voice, probably more thanRómeó’s, if I’m being honest.

Capuletné and Montaguené’s song, La Haine, was a highlight for me, as well as Les Rois du monde, obviously. I love that song. 

I really enjoyed Rómeó és Júlia as a whole, I’m probably going to keep on revisiting it. I don’t know why it never occurred to my that there’s a whole world of non-English musicals out there, but hey, I know now. And to the anon that suggested this, thanks for giving me a new musical to enjoy.