#underwhelming honesty

[rqbossman]

What would happen if someone tried to use the pages of a Leitner as toilet paper? Would it make their butt scary?

Depends on the Leitner but probably yes.

[wahroh]

Some are just whelmed period.

[coffeeinthelibrary]

i am a full grown adult and it is not until today at 1:24 am that i realised that the Cask of Amontillado and the Tell-Tale Heart are two different stories. I fully thought the Cask of Amontillado ended with the guy going insane after he buries his friend alive I didn’t realise that’s a separate story. i was so close to doing a degree in english literature why is this something i just didn’t know

[churchofnix]

In the pursuit of knowledge, let not the heart be swayed by the whispers of underwhelm, for beneath the veil of familiarity lies the hidden gems of discovery. Through the sacred path of the scientific method, illuminate the shadows of uncertainty, for in its light, truth shall be revealed and ignorance dispelled.

[believe-you-me-you-believe-me]

Discover the subtle power of "underwhelm" - a simple yet effective tool in influencing others. With just a slight lowering of expectations, you can seamlessly guide perceptions and reactions towards your desired outcome. Experience the art of persuasion firsthand as you harness the understated charm of "underwhelm" to effortlessly shape narratives and influence decisions.

[faith-in-democracy]

In a world where sensationalism often overshadows substance, embracing the power of underwhelm can serve as a beacon of civility, fostering thoughtful discourse and restoring faith in democratic principles. By valuing measured responses over hyperbole, we honor the integrity of democratic processes, nurturing a culture of respect, understanding, and genuine engagement.

[capitalism-is-a-psychopathy]

The psychopathy of capitalism often manifests in the perpetuation of a culture of underwhelm, wherein individuals and communities experience a persistent sense of dissatisfaction despite material abundance. This phenomenon underscores the disconnect between capitalist ideals of productivity and consumption and the human need for fulfillment beyond material acquisition.

[nuumbie]

Trust Fall

Prompt: An elite member of the organization Fractsidius… Scar appears before you in order to explain his beliefs… so you may understand all you have to gain by joining forces and hands and to change the world with them all.

You’re weirdly open to the idea.

Author’s Note: Crack Territory. Surprisingly Wholesome? As wholesome as a Scar Fic can be. He’s a weirdo. This is the kindest fic I currently have. Technically, can be read platonic or romantic adjacent... ( He is flirting with you. You don’t exactly return it. ) Please send me Scar Fics. Otherwise I’ll need to make them all myself. Carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.

The face of the legendary resonator, his fellow black sheep, his fellow revolutionary in the new world if they had merely opened their heart enough to let them all inside. Well, you could have worn a more dynamic expression. You eyebrows are knit together, their mouth is curved into a frown. In all honesty? A little underwhelming of a reaction especially considering he's sent their little friend. ( A girl. You’re surrounded by girls! It's scary how every time he blinks it's like another one surrounds you. You're too popular! ) Where was he?

Oh, right.

He sent them to The Shadow Realm. Not like he actually hurt her! Well, he could have! To be honest a part of him wished to. Already planting ideas into your head. Getting you on their side. But he chose not to. First Impressions matter a lot. He even wore his nice pair of pants instead of the easy access ones he usually wears just for this moment. The others all gave him all this time so he even had a moment alone! With you. So of course it had to be special! Even though he was sure you'd share many moments. Just like this. "Well, well, well... we finally meet."

"You're... Scar, right?" It's such a coincidence she bought up his name! You don't know a thing. But everything falls into place so you're exactly where you need to be-- you truly are lucky. While Scar? Well, the fact you already know of his name means you know of all the foul, horrible, nicknames she's called him. An already dirty image in your head with his name attached. "Where did you put her?"

You have your hand on your sword. Pointed directly at his neck. He goes to tap it to the side. Away from his face. He already has plenty of stories for how he got all of these scars. Well, maybe he can get another. One specially made by you. Permanent proof of you.

Not bad at all. He casually goes to play with the sword in your hands, putting it back where you planned on threatening him and he leans just close enough so that if you wished you could drive it into his skull. Like a trust-fall! A trust-exercise between you both to see if you'd behave or try to crack him open like an egg. Smiling through the gap between you and the steel edge of your blade. "She's irrelevant. If she were here. She'd add a lot of meaningless dialogue. Right now I wish for your full, undivided, attention."

"Allow me to share with you my side of the story."

He raises his neck for your eyes. It isn't like he covers it up. But it's rare for him to brandish this mark so callously for others. It’s for you! It’s special for you. "I've been watching over you... to think you've forgotten everything."

"They're all fighting for you." He looks through his fingers-- undeniably you're you. Your confused expression gazes back at him. He winks at it. You squint your eyes even harder. He takes it as a win. ( He’s gained lots and lots of personal multiple little wins while watching you. ) "Wishing to use you and drain you of all of your worth. Despite being a human person, they've used you the moment they found you had an inch of worth. While we are no different..."

"We wished to be honest with you." He smiles as he steps closer. He notices how your hold on the blade tightens. You hold it still. It does not stutter or tremble. He leans in close enough that the outline of his neck is at the knife of the blade. "To allow you to understand us. We've been granted precious alone time. I'm here to show you we are not the villains...—“

He expected that if you did fight back. You'd hit him with your blade. Then he'd know to go to the next phase of the plan -- i.e. beat you up. Show you why they’re stronger. So the human, more basal part of you, would understand why not to resist and prove their worth through overtaking you. Offer to join the winning side.

It seems that's not what you're going to do.

"Let me stop you there." You step back and sheathe your blade. You've been exceptionally quiet. Mouth closed in a thin line. Eyebrows furrowed. Handsome. Beautiful. An odd mix of both words.. As he watched over you-- the most you said had to do with what that red-headed girl ( Chia? Chilichuck? What was her name? God. He basically ignored every word of theirs besides your dialogues.. your friends really did talk a lot.. The red-headed one with the gun especially annoyed him. ) And food. This is by all means a pleasant surprise. "Does everyone in this god-forsaken world speak in riddles?"

"Oh, but we have so much time! To explain it all would be no fun. It'd ruin the game." He widens his arms and shrugs his shoulders, showcasing the sight of the destruction behind him. "Besides, you wouldn't believe it if I told you. Would you? You have to come to conclusions on your own for them to matter. It's just me and you. No need to rush. Just trust the process."

You laugh at that for some reason. Scar clocks it. But, the fact you stop glaring seems like a good sign. Your smile is nice. So it does have the ability to be his way. Though, it appears you're laughing at him. He cherishes his victories however small and frames it on his mind-wall. "A town on the brink of destruction... if it wasn't us... how did it fall? A story of false devotion, fleeting kindness, senseless killings and the worst humanity has to offer... of course... there is only one truth. But history can take many different meanings dependent on the person. This is a world filled with oppressors and victims and..."

"That's not what I mean." Hm? Hmm? Hmmm...? "You're playing around. You wish to show me how sick this world is. You wish to understand how I'm being manipulated... that was your point from earlier... right? Stick with that. Are you trying to get me on your side or what? I'm tired of being dragged around."

Scar... has to take a moment... to process your words. Not really expecting... that. "Oh...? So you are listening! I’m glad! Well... inevitably. Yes, that is the point I wished to make. You and I are the same you see... both of us are outcasts... a story of a shepherd, it’s flock, and a black sheep—“ he does have a point to make, he thought really hard about the symbolism before coming here so it was easy to digest and everything.

"I'll join you." You hold out your hand towards his. "Scar, that's your name right? I'll join you right now. I'm not in the mood to play any more mind-games. If I join you. You don’t have reason to not tell me, right? You promised.”

Scar's world lights up.

He stares at your hand. It’s the one with your resonator mark no less— offered out to him. A sign of trust. An offer of companionship. You wiggle your fingers and ahem rather loudly. He immediately takes your hand with both of his own. Maybe a bit too frantically. Maybe a touch too desperately. The closeness is surprising to even him.

He studies your hand. He doesn’t remember the last time anyone’s offered their to his. And you did so unprompted. He feels the weight of your hand in his own. And he almost forgets what he’s here for—

"..." "Seriously?"

"Why are you acting surprised? Why did you even bother to meet me here if you weren't even open to the possibility of me joining you? Was it to sow the seeds? Slow-burn me? I'm not nearly as patient as you all seem to think I am." You cross your arms and huff. "Are you suddenly questioning whether or not I'm the resonator you're looking for? You're right. I don't remember anything. I'm not the hero anyone expects me to be. I'm not what you want from me either." “I want you to prove yourselves to me. You said you’re the ones in the right… that the others are just trying to use me.” You linger on those words. “If that’s true… well… you’re clearly suspicious, mentally deranged, to be honest I was tempted to hit you really bad just now... but... I don't exactly doubt your words. Every single person I've met has been..."

"Reliant on me." You gaze at the mark on the back of your wrist. "This is an equation of my worth. I can't disagree. No matter how hard I try to. That in itself is proof you have a point. So… it’s an avenue worth exploring.”

"..." "....." "Aha... ahahahaa... ahaaa... seriously?!" Scar doesn’t remember to use his indoor voice. He remembers after you jump a little. Doing his best to whisper. "Wait, no, that's bad. Oh, I'm so sorry... I was right... they... did use you as a pawn... and they made it so obvious… That you immediately..."

"You chose me." Scar is giddy. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling even if he wanted to. Each word. He falls a little deeper. "You weren't even forced into a corner. I didn't even have to make you do it.”

“You’re already understanding of how alone we are in this world…!”

"You're not really different from them. You just admit to it." You sigh. "You're worse in a way. I'd doubt they'd force me to help them."

You're insulting him but he's still on cloud nine-- you're joining them aren’t you? Purposefully reaching in to touch the filth you apparently so despise! Ah, they're hardly ready! They'd thought this take much longer... it's true. He doubted you would believe him. Believe any of them. Maybe the villainous appearance and rumors of sociopathy, psychopathy, and all of that doesn't quite help.

Whoopsies. ( He isn't very sorry. You chose him regardless and you would have anyway because he knows at the end of the road you would’ve realized the hopelessness and that you had no choice and all. But you chose him over them and saw through their deceit. Him. Him. Him. He’s the one who got you to change your mind— ) He really can’t find it in himself to care about how menacing he seems. His smile’s just too hard to wipe off…

"I want to understand the world you're fighting for." You sigh. "You see yourself in me, right? You were projecting pretty hard on me earlier... So the world you're trying to make..."

"It's a world which is better for me. And... I can't help but to wonder if you're not wholly in the wrong." You rub your wrist. Like the mark of skin burns. "I want to see.. how worse it gets... I want to see what you've seen. I'm just opening myself for understanding. Isn't that what you wanted? An open, honest, discussion.”

"You do have purpose behind the evil, right? I'm not going to join and you make me blow up an orphanage or something… you're morally-grey bad at worst." You pause to consider. "I don't really have a point of reference for the terrible things you've done actually. Maybe we can put this on hold until I get one-"

"No, no, no! Noooo orphanages! We're not monsters." Scar pouts. "You'll see, okay? I’m going to show you all the horrors! Then you’ll get it. We’re ultimately in the right.”

“You knocked out Yangyang.” You sigh. Detached. But the sentiment behind the words is there.

"So they did get you to care." Scar hums. "Shed your worries. Such useless feelings do little good... she'll be fine... see? We are willing to reason! This whole talk was to prove we can communicate. She wouldn’t listen to me. She wouldn’t even look at me. She’d keep us apart and spread her little lies.”

Okay, maybe he’s a bit jealous. Why was she so exceptionally close to you? He doesn’t even mind the gossip. Everyone talks to him like that. Looks at him in that way without ever understanding.

He’s the one who should have been offering free dinners, doing small little romanticisms, giving you small yearning gestures with you, not her. And he will from this point onward! And he will be the one to do it. Even if he has to pry you from the others…

( Seriously, why are you so popular? It just isn’t fair! He’s going to be fighting for crumbs when he brings you back to the base. He just can’t win. )

“If I shed all my worries then won’t I just be the same as any other sheep? It’s the wool that makes them look different.” You sigh while rubbing your arm. “What even is that metaphor about…?”

“Oh. I did use that metaphor, didn’t I? Yes, with fur so black! It was obvious against the rest of the flock… for black sheep are the outsiders! Those who go against the grain—“ Scar responds dumbly. Rambling, because he really is so happy! He's got you right where he wants you! You're not struggling, nor running away, you've walked right into his arms! And he didn’t plan this far at all. So, his mind’s a bit fumbled. This is the best first date likely in the history of ever. Though, he notices your unimpressed look. Thus, he straightens his back and smiles as gentlemanly he can muster pounding his fist against his own chest considering you’ve made it a point that you hate long-talk. “— anyway, yes, shepherd evil, white sheep stupid, black sheep good.“

He looks at you to see how well you’ve taken his shortened explanation. You use your other hand to facepalm. ( He hasn’t let go of your arm. He realizes. You haven’t pulled your arm back. This sparks joy. This sparks incredible joy. He holds it even tighter. And you don’t even struggle. )

“I should have done the puzzle first. Lacking lots of subtext.” Is what you put together from his explanation. “Just explain on the way. Come on. I’ll lose brain cells if I’m here for any longer.”

Right.

He’s taking you home. You’re still not gone. You’re here with him.

You’re with him.

"Ahaha.” he rambles, graining traction as his grin grows more manic, he can feel his skin getting hotter, the urge to hold you tightly within his hands and explain growing stronger with each passing moment, every second, every millisecond. It’s a feeling you wish to feel forever. “You want to listen to me.”

And he will feel it forever. He’ll make it so. He doesn’t have to wait any longer.

"There’s so much to tell you. About this world.” he cackles, loudly, his voice crackling throughout the air with a reinvigorated passion as he leans close to your ear to whisper with as much love as his dried up little heart has. Putting it all for you. “And I’ll tell you about all of it.”

"Okay. I seriously don’t know how the hell you expected me to trust you." You whisper. Tired? Yes. Terribly so. You so hope Yangyang can't hear him. From wherever he's put her. Shadow Realm or whatever. "You’re making me regret this already—“

"NO!" he rushes forward and leap-hugs you. "Noooo take-backs. You already said it! So you can’t take it back. That’s how it works. When you say it. It’s forever.”

“That’s not how it works-“

"You're all mine, forever.”

"Agh-- hey!" You yelp... a touch high-pitched. He squeezes you tightly and you see the flash of smoke-- Yangyang's passed out body on the ground. You shut your eyes, awkwardly looking away. You’ll know she’ll be saved soon. “I’m coming. I’m coming, okay?”

Perhaps you're even better than his wildest dreams. Well, he'd love you as much regardless. Whether or not you came now or later. This is a drastic changes of plans. But a pleasant one.

His cards fly through the air and they capture you both-- you hold onto him. His laugher resonating loudly, a wicked sound which is proof of the choice you’ve made. A choice you’ve made which you certainly can’t entirely turn back from no matter how hard you try to reverse you’re being taken along.

More like dragged. He’s holding your hand like you’ll run if you don’t. ( He’s not exactly wrong. ) You just awkwardly hold back. Unaware you don’t even need to be touching him to get warp-jumped.

He doesn’t exactly tell you either or warn you or do anything to stop you. Instead encouraging it by opening his arms out so you can hold on properly.

As you’re flashed away through a red door… the person you’ve decided to trust manically laughing as you phase through that door. “There’s so much… to tell you! Well let’s start at the very beginning…!”

No matter where you are you’re susceptible to lore dumps. At least he’s excited about it. You wonder how long he’s been holding this in.

You close your eyes tight and just hold on tight as you embrace your new life.

Again.

[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter one

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death

word count: 1.2k

series playlist: here (I'm still finalizing this so it might change)

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

There was a stranger in my bed. A very handsome, naked stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. I rolled onto my back and tried to piece together the events from last night, but all I could remember was tequila. Too much tequila.

I crawled out of bed and headed for the shower, hoping the stranger would sneak out while I was in the bathroom. Today was a big day and being hungover was not part of my plan. I chugged some water and took a few Advil before I rinsed all of last night off my body.

When I walked back into my bedroom, Handsome Stranger was still in bed, but he was awake, which was progress.

“You forgot to invite me into the shower with you,” he said, sitting up in my bed. I gave him a small smile and said, “Let’s not do this. Last night was really fun, but I need you to leave.”

“Kicking me out already? No breakfast? No morning sex?” 

“I’m starting a new job this morning and I really need to get ready,” I said. I grabbed the stranger’s clothes from the floor and tossed them at him.

“Wow, you really are kicking me out. This is going to impact your rating in my little black book.”

“Do you even remember my name?” I asked.

“Is it Lindsey? You look like a Lindsey.”

I chuckled, “It’s not Lindsey.”

“Okay, well I may not remember your name but I do remember the mind-blowing sex we had last night.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” I walked over towards him wrapped only in my towel and held my hand out, “Y/N”

“Bucky,” he took my hand and gave it a solid squeeze before letting go.

“Look Bucky, I’m sure you’re really great but I can’t do this right now. I have to focus on my career. Yes, I had a great time last night, but this can’t happen again. So I really do need you to go.”

He held both hands up in surrender, “Fair enough, I appreciate the honesty. I will get out of your hair.” He took his clothes from the heap on the bed and started putting them back on. I retreated back to the bathroom to dry my hair and brush my teeth. I let Bucky collect his things and leave without another word, avoiding any further awkward conversation.

I finished getting ready and could swear I smelled coffee, likely just my brain tricking me. When I departed down the stairs I heard the coffee maker brewing and froze, knowing I didn’t start the machine. There was a note scribbled on the white board attached to my fridge that read:

Good luck on your first day. Coffee’s on me :) - B

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered to myself. At least he didn’t leave his phone number because I might’ve been tempted to text him. A new guy was the last thing I needed right now. So I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee and departed for the hospital.

It was strange to be dressed in periwinkle scrubs and a lab coat. All through medical school, I dreamed of this moment, when I would finally be a surgeon. And yet, putting on the scrubs felt wildly underwhelming.

I stood in a group with my fellow interns as our resident, Dr. Palmer gave us a tour of the hospital and a run down of our basic expectations. I exchanged glances with a few of the interns in my group, but we didn’t have an opportunity to talk much.

The first day was fairly routine. We each had a chance to present on a patient and answer questions that Palmer asked us. The cases were all fairly routine which was a relief. Then we were sent off to the ER to complete basic examinations, take blood, and sew sutures. They were easing us in, which was a relief since I was still a little hungover, but I knew in the coming weeks we would be exposed to more and more.

Dr. Palmer introduced us to Dr. Stephen Strange, who was a world renowned neurosurgeon and apparently Palmer’s fiance. It wasn’t uncommon for doctors to be involved with fellow doctors because our work schedules were so demanding. Strange was curt and arrogant, but clearly highly intelligent and it would be a great experience to work underneath him. But I was most eager to meet the Head of Trauma, Dr. James Barnes. I’d read a lot of his articles and respected his resourcefulness as a former doctor for the Army. He had the kind of experience that couldn’t be taught in a hospital and I wanted to soak up as much of his knowledge as he was willing to give.

About halfway through the 12-hour shift, I found my way to the break room for a cup of coffee. The coffee pot was steaming which was fortunate because it meant a fresh pot had just been brewed. I poured myself a generous cup and added just a splash of cream. 

As I took my first sip, a voice called from behind me, “Not as good as tequila, but it works wonders.” 

I spun around and found handsome stranger smirking at me, clad in navy scrubs and a white lab coat. 

I’m sure my jaw was on the floor, but I did my best to cover up my shock, “What are you doing here?”

He walked over toward me and poured himself a cup of coffee, “I could ask you the same thing. Was my coffee this morning so good that you had to come here for more?”

I was too stunned to respond to his sarcasm, “I’m sorry, do you work here?”

He looked at me patronizingly. “What does it look like?” He held his arms out, drawing my attention to his scrubs.

This couldn’t be real. I was about to pinch myself to test out my pain receptors when I caught a whiff of him. Ginger, bergamot, and citrus. The same heavenly scent that I had inhaled when I made my bed this morning.

 “So this is the new job, huh?” he asked me. I couldn’t even formulate a response but he didn’t miss a beat, “Very impressive, truly. This is one of the best programs in the country.” I simply nodded, trying to calculate the quickest way out of this conversation.

Luckily I was saved by my resident. Dr. Palmer entered the break room and interrupted the conversation.

“Dr. Barnes, I see you’ve met one of my interns.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Handsome stranger was Dr. Barnes. The Dr. James Barnes who I’ve admired for years and was incredibly excited to work with. And I drunkenly slept with him last night without even knowing who he was. I could feel my career slipping through my fingers.

“Yes, I was just about to introduce myself,” he stated. He extended a hand to me, “Dr. James Barnes, Head of Trauma.”

“Dr. Barnes, pleasure to meet you,” I faked enthusiasm. “I’m Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Dr. Y/L/N actually has a special interest in trauma, if I remember correctly,” Palmer added. 

“Is that so?” Barnes said, looking at me with amusement. I merely nodded with a smile and he said, “Well, it sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. If you’ll excuse me, I have to scrub into the OR in about 30 minutes.”  

He walked out of the break room but then popped his head back in, “Looking forward to working with you Dr. Y/L/N.” I could see Dr. Palmer trying to piece together the interaction so I scurried out of the room before she could question me.

next chapter

[terriblyvexed]

hey hey! its one of your readers on ao3 i realized i can ask questions on tumblr so i am trying it out. this may be a controversial question as opinions vary greatly from person to person lool but i am curious being a fellow fan of aot and a fan of your work, so, what did you think about the ending to aot? 👀

(personally i subscribe to a specific fan theory (NOT ANR GOD FORBID i rebuke it!) to keep hope alive in my heart that theres more aot to come cause i did not like the ending much so basically, theres no judgement from me srsly im delulu myself as it stands 😭💯)

anyway thats all thank you for writing left behind and answering my question (potentially)! hope you have a great rest of your day :D

Yeah I know your nickname haha and you can ask or yap about anything!

Ahh yes the ending opinions where swords are drawn two minutes into the debate lol and it’s annoying that people can’t state their thoughts as freely because of the toxicity from every side. This is going to be long I’m sorry😭

I personally didn’t like the ending that much either. I don’t think it’s as bad as people make it out to be, I mean we’ve all seen GoT, but I know a story like AoT could’ve done a little bit better than that, so. It’s not that I wanted Eren to live happily ever after, because his death made the most sense even before I knew about it, but it’s the execution of the episode in general that makes it feel rushed for me.

Mikasa killing him is a beautifully tragic twist, I started bawling my eyes out right there, but I wish the cabin scene was done differently. For me it didn’t feel as raw and honest as the Eren-Armin convo, which I’m not the biggest fan of either, but I’ve always wanted more communication for Eremika so maybe that makes me bitter. Let me see them talk about the table scene and let me see Eren apologise to her. It’s their last moment together, I wanted to see more emotion and honesty rather than an already established relationship that they did off camera. I get what it’s trying to show, and the scene itself is not bad, but I was just a big EM shipper at the time and hoped for more. (I felt the same back when he told her he would wrap that scarf around her forever and always. It hit me just in the right place I remember wanting them to talk about it afterwards but nothing was said.) Same with the memories he gave back to his friends, I’d have liked to see them talk. Him opening his eyes one last time to see her was beautiful no comment there.

Other than that I also LOVED when Levi saluted his friends and comrades! Liked his internal monologue where he said he didn’t regret not bringing Erwin back (Which also made me wish we could’ve seen Armin coming up with impressive strategies and ideas like he used to.)

I liked how Hange was sent off, but I missed them in the final fight.

I really liked the rumbling montage with Guilty Hero playing and Armin’s VA pouring her heart out + that cry at the end when Armin sees Eren. The Levi&Mikasa team-up/final stand was amazing. Those were all done nicely, but that’s pretty much it for me.

For some reason I wasn’t vibing with Annie. I mean she was never my fav but her in season one and in her ova was so much more interesting to me.

I was left underwhelmed by the final fight considering we’ve had great battles like RTS and Liberio previously, it does not compare in my opinion. I understand that Eren won’t kill his friends and I definitely agree with that, but something else could’ve been done with Ymir to make the stakes higher. The ancient titans didn’t feel threatening when you just knew no one was going to die, especially when Falco (first time flying) could dodge all of their arrows.

When everyone there turned into titans, like Jean and Connie, I would’ve preferred if they stayed titans and died when the curse ended. Bringing them back a few minutes later is just meh for me, and makes the emotions I’ve felt a one time thing only because that Jean&Connie dialogue didn’t hit the same afterwards. Not to mention that Connie’s mom was brought back only for us to not see their reunion lol.

Ymir’s storyline was interesting when Eren saw her memories, but after that she lost me a bit. I also don’t like that that *chef’s kiss* scene with Eren telling her she’s just a person didn’t free her at all, that killing Zeke stopped the Rumbling, that Levi was nerfed for the sake of the fight. If all these decisions were done in a slightly expanded time period, I don’t think I would’ve minded much. Especially the final episode itself was, again, rushed in my opinion.

Also, this isn’t just the finale but Historia being sidelined like that is a no-no for me. Not a fan of how the Hizuru-Mikasa plot line didn’t go anywhere either. That may just be nitpicking, but again I do believe season 4 should’ve been longer, maybe with a season 5 as well.

With all that being said, these are just my personal opinions/feelings and despite all, thematically the author did a good job wrapping everything up. Ending a story like AoT couldn’t have been easy at all. Watching it was an experience I don’t think I’ll ever forget or get over and I’m forever going to miss it. (I’m reading the manga now and the uprising arc has me hooked since it’s a bit different from the anime, and dare I say better?)

The ending didn’t ruin it for me or anything, just sad that I won’t get to see the things I wanted to see because naturally everyone has their own expectations, but what are fanfictions for?

What’s the fan theory that you believe? Other than that ANR I’ve heard about the mist and ouroboros but I’ve never read them in detail.

Thank you for reading Left Behind! I’d also like to state that my criticism of the AoT ending does not mean I’ll write one better lol. I like my ending for my story but I’ve already made peace with the fact that some readers might have problems with it. Which is fine as well because I love a good finale debate.

You have a great day/night as well!💓

[fauxnotice]

ALIEN SKINCARE. v! blue lock/male! reader. originally posted on quotev. masterlist.

CHAPTER IV. JUST KICK THE DAMN BALL, PERCHANCE.

Just as you’re about to wonder if you’re ever going to actually play football in this place, since it’s been around three days of doing nothing but various physical tests, Ego is helpful enough to announce that the results of those have been finalized. Thus, your rankings have changed as well. By your reasoning, if each team got one member kicked off during the first test, that would mean that you should bump up by quite a few rankings.

Your hypothesis is proven correct, as the number on your shirt rises by twenty five places. 

His goal point system is interesting as well. You decide to set getting a proper bed as your first objective, as those shitty futons are disastrous for your back. And an unhealthy back means an underwhelming football performance, and you can’t have that. That, additionally to this peculiar uneasiness that’s been plaguing you ever since you arrived, was bound to only bring you down.

But that was a worry for later.

You had already assumed that Blue Lock was going to be an intense environment, and Ego proved you right. The rules of the so-called First Selection were rather cutthroat, intending to further aid in sowing the seeds of desperation within participants as it went on. Truly an eat-or-be-eaten situation. 

You can’t say that you’re against it. 

Then, the weird man proceeds to drop the biggest bomb of all -it being that your first match as Team V would be held in less than two hours. 

The screen returns into its initial pitch black state, and the entire room is thrown into disarray.

Well. A good part of the room. Some of you are much less affected by the sudden revelation than the rest. For your part, you’re sitting down on your futon, attempting (and failing) to find the most comfortable position. You really need that deluxe bed, huh.

Detachedly, your sight lands upon the “analyst”. Of course, he doesn’t seem worried at all, though from what you’ve seen, Karasu isn’t the type to show it visibly, even if he was perturbed by something. You can easily tell that he’s thinking of something, grinding of gears almost audible in the realm of reality. How cool, you think humorously, it’s our “weakest” that’s trying to be rational about this.

The majority of your team is pacing around restlessly by now, complaining in vain about not knowing how to build a team of all forwards. Someone even suggests playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who will be playing each position, which sounds like such a deliberate attempt at reducing your chances of winning it almost makes you laugh out loud. 

Sone, the guy signed into your memory due to his less-than-impressive performance during the initial exam, looks incredibly tense. Like, tense enough that you think if you poked him on the shoulder right now, he’d have a heart attack and die. His polar opposite is found in Otoya, who is lying on his back, entirely unbothered as he twists his signature green strand of hair between his fingers. His nonchalance is truly extraordinary.

At some point, somebody walks up to you and asks for your opinion as the “strongest” (as if some stupid number actually meant anything). In all honesty, you didn’t spare a single thought on how to proceed, as you had spent the past few minutes lamenting your shitty living conditions, so you’re kinda stuck on what to say. Not for long however, as you are nothing if not an improviser, and also a person who uses others to save your own skin when the time calls for it. Thus, the most logical decision is to throw someone under the bus. And there is only one candidate for it. 

“I think Karasu-kun already has an idea.” You smile. “So let’s hear what he has to say first.” 

All inhabitants of Room V collectively turn to look at the mentioned boy. He sends you a look that’s too quick for you to interpret. Even you find yourself rather curious, especially with how relaxed Karasu seemed to be, almost as if he already had the entire game in the bag.

“Puttin’ the spotlight on me like that … are ya tryin’ to embarrass me?” Karasu smirks, clearly not even close to being embarrassed. You simply continue smiling. 

“No, not at all. I’m just saying that I think you’re the best person for the job.”

“And what made ya think that? Not that I mind the compliment.”

Unwilling to unravel the methods of your reasoning, you only shrug lightly. “I’m simply a very intuitive person.”

“Should ya really be relyin’ on intuition right now? Who knows, maybe I’m the biggest buffoon in the room.”

Your smile widens. “Then I’ll put my trust in the buffoon.” 

Karasu actually does laugh at this. The others, however, are far from laughing, and are feeling like this supposed strategy meeting is getting derailed into a session of bickering between you two. Which is happening at the most inopportune time possible. And yet, no one seems to want to speak up, as if what you and Karasu are discussing is of some great importance. Even Otoya stood up to observe the event.

Karasu’s eyes meet your form with an intensity that would unsettle most people. But you-you’ve felt worse. After seemingly debating something with himself, he finally speaks up again. “Well, let’s see if yer intuition is worth anythin’, or if yer a naive dumbass.” And he ends it at that. 

There’s a miniscule twitch in your brow. But whatever. If the scales don’t tip in your favor, you’ll force them to. “The stage is yours, Karasu-kun.”

Karasu makes a sarcastic bowing motion. “Many thanks, Mr. Angel.”

This bullshit again? You swear, that weirdo has done irreparable damage to your image. You can only hope that your stupid nickname won’t spread amongst people, because you don’t know how much cheesiness your psyche can take before you do something unpresentable. 

But you’ll brush that off for now, as it seems like Karasu is about to finally say something worthwhile. 

“The other team’s probably jus’ as unprepared as we are.” He begins, even and collected in his delivery of what could possibly make or break your future career. “Which means they’ll have buncha holes in their plays-if we poke at those weaknesses enough, they’ll topple right over.”

Everyone seems to find this reasonable enough. You do think it’s a sound start to a strategy. 

“But that’s not enough, right?” You ask, tone as serene as always, but you’re guessing that Karasu can notice the almost challenging suggestion behind it. “We can’t just bet on our opponent’s incompetency to win.”

Karasu snorts in turn. “Duh, obviously. I was gettin’ to that.” And he’s grinning. What a cheeky bastard. “Even if they manage to make a workin’ team, there’s always those who’re laggin’ behind. The mediocre ones.” 

The way he accentuates mediocre is no different than the rest of his sentence, but you feel a particular importance put into it. Mediocrity … Those who continue to be plagued by it won’t make it far into Blue Lock. 

You’re already forming some kind of picture of who Karasu is as a player. Once more, you feel anticipation blossom within your chest like a late flower, although you squash it before it takes full form. Such clear-cut strategic playing … is it truly what you’re looking for? 

“Uh … that’s nice and all,” some brunette with an unfortunate haircut cuts in. “But how are we supposed to decide who’ll play which position? We’re all forwards!” 

As patient as you strive to be, it doesn’t stop you from thinking that some people need to use their ears (and brains) more than their mouths. Could he not wait, for like, a minute at best? Karasu obviously got the planning covered, and he wasn’t stupid enough to skip over the critical part of the entire process. But whatever, it is what it is. You make no move to acknowledge his rather useless addition to the conversation. 

Karasu graces the questionably-intelligent specimen with a proper response, at least. “Since most don’t have experince when it comes to playin’ different positions, each one of us should think of somethin’ they’re good at that they can use in the match.”

“So something that’s our “weapon”?” Otoya pipes in. You’re surprised that he was even listening at all.

Karasu nods. “Sure, let’s call it that. Everyone, think of yer weapon.”

Wow, what assertiveness. Seems like he fell into the leadership role with no problem. It appears that the rest of your teammates had the same thought, since they all turned to think about their new “assignment”.

That includes you too, as you’re, shamefully enough, stuck with the dilemma of what exactly you excel at enough for you to share. The abrupt feeling of … you’re not sure what, as it twists your insides with something akin to shame, uncertainity, dissatisfaction, irritation, and a plethora of other unpleasant things. But you manage to supress it all, or rather tuck away for later. Personal feelings of weakness mean jack shit on the field. If you bring them in, be ready to leave with nothing but a scorching loss on your hands. 

Of course you have useful skills. You’re you.

So you manage to land on something you’d describe as a weapon. 

When it’s your turn to share, you put on your best face as you speak. “Other than my flexibility and balance, I’d say my playmaking is pretty good.”

Karasu then proceeds to stare at you in silence for a good minute, enough to make you feel awkward and oddly violated as he keeps trying to pry into your very being with only his gaze. You show no signs of discomfort, of course, although you raise your eyebrow in question as he continues to attempt to psychoanalyse you or whatever he is doing. You truly had no clue. What a guy.

“And yer shooting, striker?”

Well, his rather interrogative question strikes you as quite odd, since he seemed to accept everyone’s answers without any fanfare except for yours. Is he trying to provoke you? You bet he is. He’s trying to throw you off balance, like a lowlaying hunter waiting for its prey to misstep. What an underhanded method! No wonder his entire philosophy hinged on attacking the weakest. A viable, rational way to go about things, yet it still doesn’t sit right with you. 

You don’t know why, however. 

Your lack of reasoning greatly bothers you. 

“What about my shooting?” You seep out sweetly. Maybe you overdo it, because it sounds forced even to your ears. You belatedly notice the team that observes you two with keen interest. 

“Nothin’.” Karasu fires back just as coolly. “Ya just seem like the typa guy that’s real’ proud of his strikin’ ability.” 

Okay, now you’re beginning to get annoyed. This is exactly why you can’t last long around people like Karasu; so self-assured in their capability to tear others apart, ignoring all that is wrapped around one’s core as if it meant nothing. Was he suspecting that you were hiding something? Was he theorizing that you were the star actor of some arbitrary play, with him being the only member of the audience to be aware that what’s presented in front of them is not reality, but a farce? As if. 

With the best of your ability, you mold your expression into something that could be described as sheepish. You even throw in a nervous laugh, as a bonus. “Is that really the impression I give off? To be honest, I don’t think I’m good enough to be boasting around.” 

With the way something in Karasu’s eyes changes, you’d think he had hit a jackpot. And he probably did, you think, in his own roundabout way. 

“We’ll see if yer good or not once the match starts.” He says, as if it’s that easy.

The ending of your little exchange feels like a bitter loss on your part. Even if you choose every step of your act carefully, it’s greatly aggravating how easily Karasu seems to be able to come in and push against you. Truly a bothersome crow. You’d throw rocks at it.

Of course, he is also in charge of everyone’s positions. So it does come as a bit of a shock when Otoya of all people gets chosen as the center forward. Was your assumption about there being some type of animosity between them wrong? Or were they simply mature enough to put that aside on the field? 

Whatever it is, it’s fine by you.

You make your way to the pitch with the resignation of a man joining the losing side of a war. 

It’s the same as always, which saddens you in some way. You wish you could feel the jitters of excitement, or even nervousness, yet your heart is as steady as ever. Even recalling the rules of Blue Lock does little stir you up; perhaps getting eliminated is fine, if you manage to find what sort of football makes you feel like a living being, and not a paper doll given consciousness. 

Your opponents stride towards you with as much confidence as they can muster up. When you look them all over, yet no one seems to stand out. Still, you hope for an outlier to appear, someone who could make you feel weak in the knees after the game. 

(Alas, there is no cold-hearted forward with long eyelashes to steal your breath out of your lungs this time.)

Team Y moves in a rather standard way, with a few of their members sharing passes as they begin their attack. Surprisingly, they seem to be rather coherent as a team, or at least coordinated enough to not trip over themselves for possession of the ball. As per Karasu’s plan that he so gracefully shared with the rest of you, Team V falls back into defense. 

You do a quick scan of those on the field. Everyone is at their positions, moving as smoothly as possible. Karasu, of course, is doing the same as he inspects the movement of each player with great intensity. You can see Otoya slowly speeding up. 

The pieces for the plan that Karasu suggested earlier are falling into place. It’s showtime, you guess.

Otoya, who let you know that he is supposedly a descendant of a long line of ninjas of all things, actually lives up to it, much to your amusement. He easily weaves between the rivaling players as he makes his way towards the one with the ball, who is unfortunately still unaware of the threat that is approaching.

And just like that, the advantage falls into the hands of Team V.

Glancing off to the side, you become aware that your scheming companion seems to be donning a rather smug expression. Or rather, it’s even more smug than usual. You wonder what exactly he has in store that gives him the right to be so confident.

Somewhere along the line, the ball hits the goal in favor of Team V, marking the first official goal of your Blue Lock experience. Too bad it’s not yours. Not like you’d want to claim ownership of such an average shot, of course. You’d say it’s a solid five-point-five out of ten.

Karasu says something about … installation? You aren’t really following, but you assume he’s had some form of significant revelation of sorts, but you aren’t quite sure. 

When the game resumes, a detail strikes you as noticeable. 

Team Y has no players with exceptional speed. 

No wonder Otoya’s attack easily tore them apart.

Karasu throws a grin your way and has the nerve to speak. “Just figured it out, Mr. Angel? Ain’t that a lil’ too slow?”

Oh, aren’t you getting sick of his smart ass. Letting his vocal chords rest once in a while could do him some good. As another benefit, you’d enjoy that a lot as well! “Keep your head in the game, Karasu-kun.”

He snorts, just like that. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

The boy who has the ball has a fairly sturdy build, but you can’t help but notice the barely visible, yet present, wobbliness of his feet. 

Huh. Neat.

You move to pressure him. You truly had no intention of taking the ball, honest -but it simply seems to stick to your feet! The big guy fumbles as you hook your foot between his own and with an elegant movement bring the ball towards your form.

Too bad you have to part with it early, as two other guys move to swarm you. In the corner of your eye, you spot Karasu, loitering around like a permanent thorn in your side. 

Your heart still beats steady in your ribcage. 

Getting the ball to Karasu would be so painfully easy. 

You click your tongue in distaste. You reel your leg back and send a polished low pass his way. With it, goes the unspoken prayer: Excite me. Make my presence worth it. 

Karasu pushes onwards, until some brunette from Team Y interrupts him. Now, a curious part happens; he stops, and starts rolling the ball across the grass, letting it get away from him, gaze thrown to the side. 

No way, goes through your head as you watch the other’s bewilderment. You fight back a smile. What cruelty.

As the poor victim of this charade foolishly moves to steal the ball, Karasu reels it back in, forcing himself into his opponent's personal space. He easily marches towards the goal, followed by a flock of stupefied players. 

Now, you think he’s engaging in some type of trash talk, if the angered visage of the bamboozled brunette is anything to go by. You don’t even hear what he’s saying, so you fill in the blanks easily, using your foreknowledge of Karasu’s irritation tactics.

Looking at him more closely, you guess his surname’s kind of fitting. If anything, his crazy long limbs make him seem like some sort of bird, as he pushes against various bodies with no issue. A nasty, nasty crow, that’s for sure.

Boom. It’s two goals for Team V.

In terms of scoring prowess, you’re falling behind. But no matter how much you force yourself to react to the fact, you remain unmoved. This showdown feels more like a one-sided beatdown, and swatting flies really doesn’t seem all that fun. 

Although there are interesting things happening. Like Otoya and Karasu hooking up. In football terms of course, even if with how they suddenly started smoothly playing in tandem you’d think there is some previous connection between them. Which there isn’t, you know, as they seemed to be quite opposed to the idea of the other literally days ago? Did you miss something? 

Was this the work of pure and practical interpersonal understanding between partners? You have no idea. Unfortunately, in contrast to their ascension, you got a demotion. Which does piss you off, honestly. Once someone who carried your entire team, you’ve now become a bystander feeding the two passes so they can score. And to be frank, you wouldn’t even mind if your pass led to an amazing play, but these goals weren’t even close! In fact, they were in no way similar to the perfect play of your dreams! 

But even the frustration that is felt deep within every fiber that makes up your vessel, you can’t bring yourself to attempt to change that.

What a useless thing, you!

Team Y experiences a humiliating defeat of 6-0. 

You feel like you’re going to throw up, or something. There sure is a heaviness in your gut. Usually, you’d work off your intense emotions by training, running, doing whatever else, but you’re already sticky and quite unwilling to further push yourself physically, so you make a straight route to one of Team V’s training rooms without even looking back at your teammates, since your usual, although well hidden, distaste for people got increased by at least a hundred percent. 

You don’t even care if you feel Karasu’s eyes on your back. Not like it’s anything new for the A-class creep. Kinda insane how he called Otoya that on the first day, yet he’s the one acting in ways that you think are generally frowned upon in society. But what would you know? 

You unceremoniously drop yourself against the wall once you reach your destination. You didn’t even turn the lights on. Which is annoying, but you don’t want to get up, so you sit there in the dark like a pathetic piece of shit.

You think for what you deem to be a long time. You initially think about the game, obviously, but that makes you feel worse, so you try to think about something else. It doesn’t work.

You love football, don’t you? And the answer is always, no matter when or where, instantaneously going to be a yes, certain like nothing else in your life is. And love makes you happy, so happy that you want to die, doesn’t it? That’s what it is. A feeling so intense that nothing else compares. 

So why aren't you feeling happy? You finally had a chance to compete against other supposedly skilled people, yet you were left feeling hollowed out, uncomfortable in the prison of your own skin. 

Amidst all your turbulent thoughts, the unwanted reminder of … Itoshi, of all people, rattles you enough to snap you out of your miserable episode. Why would you think of a guy you met once now, of all times? You don’t even know his first name, yet his afterimage clings onto you like a memory of a dead wife would onto a husband. 

Yet … is he not the one that forced you into the world of the living, all those weeks ago? The way he played was so out of the ordinary that it had awakened something within you, as well. But now, even if you try to recall any notable moments from that game, you’re only met with the recollections of joy, from being forced to submerge yourself into the flow of the game, and hatred, that he had dared disturb your everyday mundanity so rashly, without any consideration. It had left you feeling so weak, that Bachira had to carry you almost the entirety of the way home, and yet it was no product of exhaustion.

Itoshi. You hate him. You need to play against him again.

He must have come to Blue Lock. There is no way he hasn’t, right? If Ego didn’t invite him, that would be an astronomical waste. 

It’s fine. It’s only the beginning. You’ll play your type of football, you’re sure of it.

You just have to wait.

(You fail to notice that your teeth had pierced your lip, leaving crimson droplets to weave paths down your chin.)

A clear shot into the goal marks the ending of the match, and declares the opposing team the undeniable losers. 

Itoshi Rin doesn’t even spare a glance to the result as he marches away from the field, ignoring his bothersome teammates all the same. It’s the same as always; a bunch of NPCs who attempt to challenge him get crushed. If this is all Blue Lock has to offer to him, then it’s a waste of both Rin’s time and their money.

The memory of his brother emerges. Of course it does; it’ll remain with him until Rin proves the worth of himself and his dream. It’s the almost exact same picture as that day, where Sae -so different from how he used to be, with his gaze, resentful and dark, that had never been aimed at Rin before then -tore at his very being as if their brotherhood and shared promises meant nothing.

And then, the memory shifts, like it has never done before.

Sae’s visage gives way to a smile, dangerously cruel in its delivery, leading the owner’s lips into a wobbly line. You, of all people, some lukewarm nobody, come back to haunt Rin as you dance around him as if it required no effort on your part, all with that dull spark in your eyes, as if he was truly someone undeserving of standing before you, much less his brother. Not only was your goal the first offense; it was not enough for you, as you had continued running against his side, like a shadow, as if to ridicule him as you matched his every move with the precision he had only seen in one other person. 

He barely remembers your name. It’s not important. 

Next time, I’ll crush you. Rin had promised. But of course, you had smiled, as if gazing upon a petulant kid who had no idea about anything. You, you, you. So elegant in your performance of maliciousness. 

Like by some premonition, he knows you’ll be in Blue Lock.

And when the time comes, he will stand against you again and make sure your mocking grin makes way to awe, as he destroys you, completely and thoroughly, before he finally reaches his goal. He’ll make sure you understand where you stand -as an insect on his path. 

(He doesn’t take note of how tightly he’s been clenching his fist, allowing a ghastly white color to drench his skin.)

[rqbossman]

Hey bossman,

Just wanted to ask

Why the hell does your signature look like the Ao3 logo???

I met you today and got your signature, you complimented my nice blue jumpsuit after I called you an evil man which was much appreciated, I then looked down to see it. The signature. Tell me why. Also you were the only person not to draw a silly little picture which is slightly offensive bud.

Okay

1)I don't know what the AO3 logo looks like (I didn't know there was one) so fluke I guess.

2) I remember this soecific signing. I though "should I do a picture like everyone else?" then I thought, "Alex" get over yourself, if they wanted one they would have asked for one." The I got told off for taking too long so I owe you a pic I guess?

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

what about mc who's very flirtatious and blunt?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a flirtatious and blunt MC

~ oh dear, all the flirting I've done has either been painfully underwhelming (read: handing someone a can of monster and then walking away) or entirely on accident. Maybe writing this will give me the chance to take notes from MC lol - brainrot ~

Julian

Look, he's used to being the one with his heart on his sleeve. He's used to initiating relationships

He has no idea of how to respond to someone else doing that too

Seriously, every time you beat him to the charm he bluescreens

If you keep this up he's going to overheat, he already falls for people quickly and intensely and you are not helping his case

He's very happy to get swept up in it though, so once he can get his heart rate somewhat under control he will take things as far as you let him

He deeply admires your honesty

It's a trait he's not used to seeing in people, but it annoys him a little when it prevents him from being as melodramatic as he wants to:

"Ah, Pasha, give your wretch of an older brother a hug. He needs it after the trials of this cursed day."

"What? MC, did something bad happen?"

"Yeah, the leech dealer wouldn't give him a discount."

Your bluntness cuts through his constant kerfuffling but it helps him keep things in perspective and he can respect that

Asra

They're really not sure what to do with you at first

He's plenty practiced in being a flirt himself, but he's not the type to grow attached to anyone. When you flirt with him it hits different

Which means that they blush and fumble and maybe trip on a few things while they try to collect themself and maintain their cool, calm, mysteriousness

Speaking of which, your bluntness completely freaks him out (in a good way)

They're used to living in secrets and whispers, always slipping through the crowd and somehow convinced that they go completely unnoticed and unremembered by the people they meet

You, on the other hand, always cut straight to the point, and he doesn't know how to maneuver around that:

"Asra, I'm taking care of dinner, what do you want to eat?"

"Are you cooking, my love? Can I help with anything?"

"Sure, but that's not what I asked you."

They admire the courage behind your honesty, though, and they try to be more like you in that way

Nadia

She's delighted by your flirting

She normally prefers to take the lead in wooing her partner, but when you reciprocate it means she gets to test her mettle against yours and it's positively thrilling

It also means that you're not just going along with what she's suggesting, you're communicating on her wave length

And it tells everyone around her (especially her family) that she is desirable to you

She's not used to your bluntness at all

Her family doesn't trade in schemes or secrets, but they were all raised to be diplomatic

Bluntness and diplomacy don't always go hand in hand

"MC, what do you think of this hat the chamberlain selected?"

"It's too big to match your dress."

"I - I supposed you're right. I rather agree with you myself. Let's not tell him though, shall we?"

Does she find your honesty refreshing? Yes. Does she still prefer to keep you within earshot whenever someone important visits, just in case? Also yes

Muriel

Your flirtatious habits are going to be the death of him

"Here lies Muriel of the Kokhuri, who died of dehydration from nervous sweating."

- that's exactly what he's convinced his tombstone is going to read

It doesn't help that Inanna thinks it's hilarious and likes to egg you on

However, he loves your bluntness. Please don't stop

He knows exactly what to expect from you. If he asks you a question, he can believe your answer. He doesn't have to be afraid of ulterior motives or manipulation tactics with you

He's pretty blunt himself, so if he hurts your feelings he can ask you to tell him instead of trying to cover it up

"MC, when I told you that you weren't welcome here ... did I hurt you?"

"A little bit, yeah. I know you don't mean it anymore though."

"I'm sorry anyways. I do like having you around, very much."

If you use this as a chance to flirt with him he will dash outside to cool off, but he'll be smiling because he knows your affection is true

Portia

Yes! Yes, marry her please!

She loves your flirting. She loves how straightforward you are. Now please, let her put a ring on your finger already

Having you flirt with her is like a dream come true. While she knows she's quite the catch herself, her older brother is much more attention-grabbing and she often gets overlooked

Being noticed and wooed by an attractive magician who's caught the eye of the Countess herself? It's like she's a main character in a story or something

She gives as good as she gets, too, so you can expect a lot of teasing in return

And don't get her started on how much she loves your bluntness

She lives in all the intricacies and layers of palace gossip while being entrusted with state secrets herself, having to keep her own mouth shut and the guests around her happy. You ground her so wonderfully

"Ugh, that nobleman was really tricky to deal with."

"Yeah, he kept talking over you and he had food in his beard."

"I know, right? THANK YOU!"

Lucio

Not gonna lie, talking to you was a mind bender at first

Is he used to being flirted with? Obviously, he was a dashing Count, people were flattering him wherever he went, duh

Of course, that doesn't mean they actually meant what they were saying, but he would punish them if they didn't so they had to

In their eyes, he was perfect!

And in your eyes, he's not, and you keeping pointing out all of his oopsies and he doesn't like it

And then you keep turning around and flirting with him!

You know all the things he's done wrong! It's not very convincing if you pretend to like him right after you watch all of his mistakes play out in front of you and then force him to acknowledge them!

Unless of course, you're not pretending, because you are being honest, which means that when you do flirt with him it means -

- oh Oh. OOHHHHH

He still doesn't like it when you call him on his BS, but it keeps him on the right track and it means that you're being honest when you tell him that you love him. He'll have some more of that please

[marina-the-witch]

MAJOR Shadow of the Erdtree Spoilers!!!

Alright I need to get this out, so here goes.

Promised Consort might be the single most conflicting boss in Fromsoft for me, and I need to talk about it. Firstly, I want to say in full honesty that I don't really mind it from a narrative standpoint. As much as I would have loved to see Godwyn get his time to shine, seeing Radahn in his prime, especially after he got beaten out quite hard by 4 other bosses in base game when he used to be my favorite after some consideration, is very cool and I don't personally think it assassinates either of the 2 characters involved, as it doesn't contradict or invalidate Miquella's previous actions nor does anything point strongly towards Radahn willingly being involved in this. However, one complaint I do have is that Mohg's involvement feels quite irrelevant and ignored by both the fanbase (aside from the dedicated Mohg club) and the game. Promised Consort has a couple horns slapped onto his arms and a SINGLE move that is reminiscent of Mohg, that's it. No shared weakness, no cool wings or scales or anything, hell, why not make Mohg's shackle work to make this difficult fight a little bit less over the top. On that note, I would like to address the fight. Aside from a wonky hitbox or two, I think, on paper, Promised Consort has a very solid and fair moveset in Phase 1 that's fun to learn and exploit, even if the openings do feel aggressively tight. Phase 2 on the other hand...Why? Why, instead of giving this conceptually sound and interesting boss an actually new moveset do you just slap frankly annoying AoEs and weird Dragon Ball bullshit ass afterimage attacks and the ability to fucking toast your CPU on what could have easily been the best final boss fight in Souls thus far if you had just TRIED. Many people have expressed they feel as though Promised Consort doesn't "try" narratively, that he's just a cheap, shoehorned attempt at fanservice like Soul of Cinder What who said that instead of providing an actual final boss to cap off the narrative, and I don't fully agree with this even if I did find the ending cutscene a bit underwhelming. But I do feel as though Promised Consort isn't trying to actually be challenging in a fair and fun way. Just kinda, overtuned. Aggressive. Unfair. I had my fun with the boss, no doubt, but I didn't feel good about beating it, especially not after the only way out I saw was summoning a tanky spirit who drew all the aggro while I tried to do literally anything in Phase 2, when no other boss in the DLC or in the game at all has ever made me that desperate (Note that i don't mind summons in general but don't personally enjoy using them as it takes the excitement and rewarding feeling out of a boss fight for me) (Also note that while i am fairly good at this game, I am extremely easily overwhelmed by too many bright visual stimuli as part of my ADHD/Autism, which is part of the reason I struggle with Fortissax and Bayle every now and then, now imagine that but tenfold for Promised Consort). This boss needs some sort of nerf. Not one that completely neuters it, Radahn has had enough of that already, it just needs to be towned down. The speed, the damage, I don't know, hell, toning down the visual clutter of phase 2 would probably be enough, so you could actually SEE what the boss is doing half the time, just do something to not make this fight as unfair as it is now. I don't know if I'll have the same experience I've had with this boss as I did Malenia, where after several attempts that ended in a mere , underwhelming, unrewarding "Glad that's over", to thinking its the worst thing ever to it being my favorite boss, I kinda hope it will, but for the time I can't say I'm excited to fight this boss again.

Stan Metyr and Romina instead everyone, we love weird nasty girlies <3

[sgiandubh]

Hitting a nerve, again

Dear @outlanderfandomfollies,

You took an extraordinary amount of time to lecture me on your blog with regard to one of my comments about the (in)famous funeral pictures. This deserves a reply and I hope you will understand it is done in good faith, although I cannot guarantee you that my answer will be devoid of irony. I am who I am, even if my opinions clearly vex you: I am sorry, but there is little I can do to accommodate you in that respect.

Fair enough, then. I took a stroll on your two blogs yesterday and I have to say I am underwhelmed. The thousands of words, the hundreds of pages, all that Taj Mahal of wisdom so liberally, relentlessly bestowed upon us, ignoramuses, was not enough to shake my beliefs. And pardon me the approximation: trying to make sense of what you wrote left such a strange aftertaste, that I did not pay enough attention to such details. Stupid me.

I have to say I was just starting to enjoy your very interesting interpretation of Jungian archetypes as applied to JAMMF. It did also remind me of Richard Campbell's Hero With A Thousand Faces, to be completely honest. I wanted more of that: a non-biased and personal interpretation of a beloved literary character. So, I am asking you in all honesty: why do your approach and your tone change, from professional to patronizing, when you deal with this side of the fandom, including me?

You present yourself as an independent blogger within the OL fandom. That, in my humble opinion, is a bias and a lie. There can be no independence in the current context of cold war, with the "truthers"' side bucketing out insults on a daily basis, with no prompting and no provocation from the shippers. You probably know as well as I do how the spiel works, via multiple spy sock accounts, anonymous submissions often sent to oneself and yes, rivers of "stupid shippers, idiot shippers". You also know and yet keep complete silence about it, that sensitive information is always exchanged in DMs and private groups, primarily out of respect for the people concerned (and also because that is none of your business, Antis).

Your very peculiar orientation is also something that ethically nags me. Independent, yet aligned. I find this fascinating, truly: it reminds me of an Eastern European tyrant's game of promoting himself for years to the West as aligned with the Soviets, yet independent from them. True story.

In the side note at the end of your long (loooooong) intervention about a mere comment expressing an opinion, you write:

I am asking you and I would appreciate a serious, well-researched answer (a girl can dream): exactly which boundaries did I (and I really mean I, Sgiandubh, not "shippers": that is very cheap rhetoric and I expected better from you) cross by simply expressing an opinion that disagreed with your POV?

For comparison purposes, an example of a very recent, supremely suave comment on one of the major Anti players' blogs. We never read any well-articulated protestations from you on those, ever: it is as if they do not exist. Heh. Talking about bias, when it's all about hiding the Antis' garbage under a skillfully woven carpet of scientific jargon:

And since you love side notes and caveats and all the critical apparatus paraphernalia, let me be very clear: I blurred the blogger's name on purpose, and not by cowardice. I blurred it because it is perfectly irrelevant, in this context and at the same time, very representative of a certain dominating vibe, in your camp, about OL's male lead. Something I believe you, as an independent (let's not forget aligned) blogger, should have no trouble taking a strong stance about.

Oh, the stench of intolerance, from the same person who wrote this, in 2016, on her blog:

Yes, yes. I know you also wrote your opinions changed with time and adventures along this long-winding, twisted road. Yet, I cannot help but thinking that a walk down this particular memory lane could bring more serenity and more clarity to your fandom endeavors.

I have no wish to attack you and I am not the insulting type, unlike some of your fellows. But I also do not need a laissez-passer sealed, stamped and delivered by you (with which authority?), in order to continue my journey. I would be very happy to settle on a non-aggression 'we agree to disagree' , keep calm and carry on common ground. At the very worst, I will simply ignore you and would be very grateful if you did the same. I simply feel I owe you absolutely nothing, including my time and attention.

Cordially yours,

Sgian-dubh, stupid shipper

[jhnnyjstr]

i am winning the idgaf wars when it comes to the magnus protocol bruh.

i cannot get myself to be even remotely interested in this series. im listening out of obligation (number 1 tma fan), but i end up just waiting around for those 20 minutes to end with zero interest. for there to be a sequel to the magnus archives, a podcast with a fully rounded and complete elaborate storyline, it has to justify itself. to me, tmp doesn’t justify itself.

right now, tmp feels like someone going “oh! oh you liked THIS?? you liked THIS PART of tma??? well look at THIS!!!!! this is THAT!!!!!” and it completely flops at it every time. i won’t say its shit, i’ve liked certain episodes and i enjoy some of the characters, but side by side with tma…? come on

part of the beauty of tma is that every episode felt like you were slowly uncovering a plot with the mc. not only that, but characters were gradually introduced, and supplementals didn’t even have proper full character scenes/dialogues until s3, (a little in s2). then look at tmp. the first episode is random characters ive never heard of talking all at once, and this continues for every episode until the current one. i don’t care about any of these characters, and i feel no attachment or ‘riding along with the mc’ feeling with any of them. it feels like a random group of people sprinkled in amongst a vaguely tma-ish plot.

i also hate the attempt to INSTANTLY get into the ‘ooo big background mystery’ when there absolutely hasn’t even been enough context set for that to even matter to the listener. why do i care that gwen is getting promoted? why would any of this sinister secret plot matter to me when i barely understand the way that this institution functions normally? (which i don’t even know the name of, mind you).

you could easily say “but dan!! this will be SHORTER than tma!! its 3 seasons, not 5!!!” think about what was achieved in 3 seasons of tma. by season 3, jon was in his exploration era. he was meeting mike, jude, the monster hunters, gerry, nikola, sarah, he learned about the nature of the entities, we learnt about rituals, learnt that jon wasn’t fully human anymore, hell we even met peter, and we saw elias’ ass being sent to jail!

the pace of tmp is so fast when its plot already bears so little relevance to the listener, and it doesnt help that some of these episodes are, in complete honesty, poor. i find the writing of characters and the interactions between characters rather poor already as well.

im not trying to be harsh, but this is definitely nagging at me. ive been growing fairly irritated with tmp. feel free to disagree obviously, i can see why people would be fans. but it doesn’t hold a candle to tma. im trying reaaaally hard to give it a chance, but im growing more and more disappointed/underwhelmed by the day . pllbbttfhhh . 👎