#writing this out made me realize there are so many red flags i am STUPID omg

[haikyuuhoo]

Habits

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Summary: In which Akaashi has a couple of habits you find extremely endearing.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: Just extremely rushed writing so this might not be great.

A/N: Have a lil fluffy Akaashi fic I wrote instead of doing my reading for class today :) My excuse is that this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away.

Akaashi had two habits you picked up on very early—before the two of you even really knew each other.

The first was that he had this cute little way he played with his fingers when he got anxious. You'd seen him do it in a number of situations: when he was waiting in line at the campus café deciding what to order, when he stood in the kitchen at the few parties you'd spotted him at, and right before he was about to give a presentation. Another thing you noticed, though, was that it was shockingly easy for him to switch it off as if nothing was bothering him. When he approached the counter, he told the barista his order as if it was the same thing he got every time. When his friends approached him at the party, he would give them a gentle smile and allow them to push a drink into his hand. When he stood in front of the class he immediately stood straight and set his shoulders back, exuding a confidence that you could only dream of having while he gave his analysis of whatever book you'd all just read for your literature class.

Akaashi Keiji was never one to express his emotions openly, always coming off as stoic or like he couldn't be bothered to really tell people what he was thinking. But you knew better.

When you leaned your chin on your palm, watching Akaashi give his presentation at the front of the lecture hall, you could tell there was more going on in that pretty head of his. Honestly, you weren't even paying attention to what he was saying. You were studying him, trying to see if there was any millisecond where he let something other than strict professionalism shine through. But you didn't see anything, and it made you frown a bit as he came to the conclusion of his presentation.

When he finished, he thanked the class and let a small smile settle on his lips. It made warmth bloom in your chest, and you couldn't help but smile in return.

Not like he noticed. You were pretty sure he didn't even know who you were.

That was your first year of college, and you honestly didn't expect to be in many—if any—more classes with Akaashi. It was just a gen ed class, after all.

In your third year, however, you were in another class with him. You’d noticed him on the first day. You remembered from your first year that he was always early to class, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when your gaze immediately found him sitting in the middle of the rows of seats as you walked in. You instantly felt your heart rate pick up, and you honestly found it to be a bit embarrassing. You made your way to a seat a few rows behind Akaashi and settled in. Did you still have a stupid crush on this guy who you’d barely spoken a word to two years later?

Yeah, you did. How could you be anything other than enamoured with Akaashi Keiji?

The class, sadly, was a lecture with over one hundred students, so aside from looking at the back of his head, you didn’t really see much of him. It made your heart sink.

The second habit Akaashi had was one you had picked up on your first year as well, but you didn’t really see it in full swing until you noticed him frequenting the library even more than you usually did.

Akaashi Keiji was an overthinker.

Sitting behind him, you could always see the bright red A’s on his papers he got back. So why did he always look so stressed whenever you saw him in the library?

On numerous occasions you’d caught him staring at his laptop screen for probably much longer than was necessary to read over whatever was in front of him. You felt a bit bad for staring, but he made you curious. When you looked a little more closely, you noticed that behind his glasses his gaze was unfocused, meaning his mind was definitely somewhere far off from the words on the screen in front of him.

You found it kind of cute, the look he would get on his face.

But you’d still never spoken to him, so there was no way you were going to tell him that.

That was, until one day in the library when you did speak to him.

You had been sitting a few tables away from Akaashi—this time you weren’t stalking him—not that you had been before!—you were here first this time, you swear! You hadn’t even noticed him!

Well, okay, that last part wasn’t true. You had arrived before Akaashi that day, fully intent on cramming for midterms, and you only noticed him when you got up to go refill your water bottle. You almost tripped over your own feet when you saw him. And maybe you did accidentally shoulder check a bookshelf.

But we don’t talk about that.

You noticed he was working on the paper for your class as you walked by, you could tell from the fact that his copy of the book you all had been assigned sat open in front of him. It had countless flags sticking out of it and was filled with highlights and scribbles in the margins. You kind of admired his dedication.

A few hours later you’d gotten yourself back in your own groove of cramming. Your headphones played music loudly into your ears in an attempt to minimize any distractions, and your gaze was fixed on your laptop. You were so in the zone that you didn’t notice someone approaching you. You didn’t even notice him say your name. It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder that made you jump that you pulled yourself away from your work.

You pulled your headphones off just in time to hear the person beside you mumble an apology, and before your gaze raised enough to look at his face you knew who it was.

You could tell by the way he fiddled with his fingers.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Akaashi said, looking away as an embarrassed flush rose on the back of his neck.

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s okay! My music was just really loud. I didn’t hear you,” you explained with an awkward laugh, looking up at him and setting your headphones on the table. “D-Did you need something?”

You could feel your heart pounding. You’d never spoken to him before and now he was approaching you?

“Yeah, uh, you’re in my classic lit class,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t think he even knew you existed.

“Yeah, I am,” you breathed, and you could feel your cheeks tingle with heat.

He cleared his throat and looked down at you. He was still playing with his fingers, which surprised you. Usually he stopped as soon as he started doing whatever was making him nervous. Why were you any different?

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to read over my paper. I’ve been working on it for hours and I think it’s making me hate it. You can say no, I know you’re probably busy with your own stuff. I just thought a fresh pair of eyes might help me.”

Your eyes widened. Not only was he in front of you looking uncharacteristically more nervous than you’d ever seen him, but now he was asking for your help?

“Sure!” you blurted, and you hoped you didn’t come across as eager as you felt.

His shoulders relaxed at that, and he smiled. “Awesome, thank you. Let me grab my stuff really quick.”

You nodded, and as you watched him retreat to his table you tried to get yourself to calm down. He was back less than a minute later, and instead of just having his laptop he had gathered all of his things. It made the heat in your cheeks spread over the rest of your face as you realized he was moving to your table to continue working.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said as he set his laptop in front of you.

“I know,” he said bluntly, settling into the seat across from you.

Your eyes widened. “Y-You do?”

He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. We had a class together a couple years ago. You gave really good presentations,” he observed.

You felt like you were going to pass out. Not only did Akaashi actually know your name, he remembered you.

“I see you around campus sometimes too,” he continued.

“O-Oh,” you breathed, pulling his laptop closer to you. “I guess it’s not weird that I know your name too, then?”

He gave you a smile that made a swarm of butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I guess not. But I can formally introduce myself if that’ll make you feel better. I’m Akaashi. Thank you for reading my paper.”

You nodded, fingers curling around the sides of his laptop. “Of course. I’ve been working for hours too, so this will be a good break.”

“I can read something of yours in return if you want,” he offered, but you shook your head immediately.

“No, it’s okay, you’ve probably got a bunch of assignments to work on,” you assured him with a smile before looking down to the screen to start reading his paper. He simply gave you a nod and pulled a textbook out of his bag, leaning his cheek against his hand as he began working on another assignment.

It only took you a few pages to realize why Akaashi consistently aced his papers. He was an incredible writer.

You looked up, fully intent on telling him as much, but you stopped when your gaze settled on him and you noticed that familiar far away look in his eyes. You smiled, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about.

Akaashi thought you were incredibly beautiful. That wasn’t a word he used often, usually reserved only for the way authors sometimes articulated things in a way that gave him goosebumps or for the way he could see the stars twinkle on clear nights.

But as soon as he’d laid his eyes on you, the word popped into his mind nearly every day. He’d watched you walk into class the first day of his first year, and he was smitten.

You looked so beautiful, even when you were doing something as simple as coming into the early morning class nursing a coffee every day. He decided he’d always come early so he could watch you walk in.

You looked beautiful when he saw you around campus, and the warmth that bloomed in his chest when he watched you laugh with your friends only solidified the thought.

You looked incredibly beautiful whenever he saw you at the parties he went to when Bokuto was finally able to drag him along. There was just something about watching you act so carefree with a smile that never seemed to leave your face all night that made him realize that you had become his definition of beautiful.

But he’d been too nervous to ever say anything to you, and when an entire year went by without the two of you having another class together, he felt a bit hopeless. He couldn’t really go up to you on campus, and the longer he waited the more awkward it was.

“Hey, you were in my literature class a year and a half ago,” wasn’t the best pickup line.

But when he saw you walk into classic lit at the beginning of this semester, he felt his heart soar. Maybe he would work up the nerve to talk to you this time.

A few minutes passed and Akaashi still hadn’t moved. A slight giggle left you that startled him out of whatever trance he was in, and he blushed when he looked at you.

“What? Did I write something stupid?” he asked meekly.

You shook your head, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out of you. “No! Your paper is incredible, actually.”

He frowned. “Then why are you laughing?”

You gave him a hesitant smile. “You do this thing…” you trailed off, wondering if it would be weird to admit that you noticed the way he would sometimes get lost in his own head.

“What thing?” he questioned, the pink on his cheeks darkening.

You bit your lip. Now it was your turn to be shy. You dropped your gaze to your lap and played with a loose thread on your sleeve. “When you get really deep in thought you get this cute little look on your face,” you whispered, not even sure if he heard it.

But he had, and his eyes widened in embarrassment. “C-Cute?” he sputtered.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Sorry, I know that’s probably weird,” you said softly.

“I think you’re cute too,” he breathed.

“You what?” you squeaked, head snapping back up so you could look at him.

He quickly looked away, but there was no hiding the way his cheeks were stained pink. “Is that too forward?” he asked softly, and he was playing with his fingers again.

Without thinking, you reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He jumped, looking back over at you and relaxing at the way you smiled at him.

“No, it’s not,” you assured him.

“Good,” he sighed, “because I actually think you’re beautiful.”

That was three years ago, and you couldn’t help but think back to it as you took in the scene in front of you.

You’d announced yourself as soon as you stepped into his house. You knew he had a big deadline today, so you wanted to surprise him with dinner. He sometimes forgot to eat when he worked late, and you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself properly.

Plus, you’d take any excuse you could get to see your boyfriend.

“‘Kaashi, I brought food!” you called out as you closed the door. You slipped your shoes off by the door and hung your jacket up beside his on the coat rack. When you got no response, you set the bag of takeout on the kitchen table and made your way to his office.

“Keiji,” you hummed as you opened the door, peeking your head in. You still didn’t receive a response, but you saw him sitting at his desk. He wasn’t typing, however, nor was he scrolling through the pages on the screen in front of him.

You frowned. You already knew what was happening.

You walked further into the room. “Keiji,” you said again when you approached his side. He simply gave you a hum in acknowledgement. You rolled your eyes and turned his chair so he was facing you, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. A groan left you and you cupped his face in your hands, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

His eyes widened, and his gaze focused on you for a moment before his eyes fluttered shut and he parted his knees slightly so you could stand between them.

“You’re gonna give yourself burnout if you keep spacing out like that. I know how much you overthink stuff like this,” you scolded when you pulled away.

He sighed, hands settling on your hips. “I know, it’s just, I’ve got this deadline—”

“I know you do,” you interrupted, “that’s why I’m here. I had a feeling you’d be working too hard.” You gave him a fond smile and ran a hand gently through his hair. “So I brought you dinner.”

He perked up at the mention of food and smiled up at you. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” You grinned. “Now c’mon, let’s go eat so you can give that pretty little head of yours a rest,” you teased, ruffling his hair once more before reaching for his hand and pulling him out of his chair.

He hummed and laced your fingers together as he stood up. “Sounds good,” he murmured before bringing your hand up and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You know me so well.”

You smiled. “I’ve been told I’m quite observant.”

He chuckled and gave your hand an affirmative squeeze. “Yeah, you sure are.”

[sweetestlamb]

Leave the Door Open

Summary: He doesn’t hate having someone in his house. Having her in his house but he knows he should.

Author Notes: Vincenzo was a roller coaster this weekend and I LOVED it every adrenaline filled, angst inducing moment of it all. They are pining in 4K and I had to write this. I am salivating waiting for their first kiss. I hope it’s crazy and impulsive and filled with ineedyouithoughtilostyou energy, it might be cliché but I am a simple woman. Until then I present more domestic(sometimes horny) Chayenzo moments this was very freeform I went in with nothing and just let my brain go crazy. There’s some angst again LOL oops

It’s unnervingly easy to get used to, having another person in his space despite his years of solitude and purposely pushing others away. Women had tried to sleep over before, sweat clinging to their naked skin as they coyly brushed a finger under the sheet trying to entice him to let them stay. It never worked. Not once. Sex was one thing- he loved being in control and hearing his name breathless on their lips as they writhed and screamed on his silk sheets- but sleeping over was a completely different animal and he was never stupid enough to give them that much leeway. It was dangerous for them to think this was something more than it was, he had an itch and they could scratch it. There were no feelings involved, at least from his end. 

So when she showed up on his doorsteps and the urge to drag her into his arms overwhelmed him that should have been his first warning, danger danger do not proceed. 

But she pushed past him before he could close the door in her face and unfortunately at the same moment he had a spasm in his hand and hesitated for just one second allowing her enough time to bulldoze her way into his apartment. He had contemplated kicking her still out but the look on her face stopped him in his tracks, she looked scared- ridiculously so. Even as she stuttered out nonsense about the suspicious hoteliers who wanted to harm her and made a show of swinging her bag as she told the story of the man breaking the lock on her hotel room, he could see the slight tremble in her fingers. 

She was always a lightning rod of energy but that night it had been different. Her movements had been panicked and the urge to protect her overrode his self preservation. 

It was a clear erroneous mistake on his part. 

She’s comfortable around him, that much becomes clear all too fast when he wakes up to her swaying in the kitchen over a boiling pot on the stove- some kind of soup, he can smell the aroma of miso wafting across the room- but what catches his attention is her clothes, or lack of. 

There is miles and miles of bare skin from his angle on the ground, her loose sleep shorts barely covering her legs and he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the top half of her body. Her wet hair drips onto the flowing pristine white shirt that is peeking out from beneath a cardigan. She’s taken a shower. Just moments ago, she had been naked in his shower, water cascading down her slim body curving over her breasts and sliding down her flat stomach in long slow streams until it reached her wet....

“Oh you’re awake! I made soup, let’s eat before work.” She brightly calls out to him, using his ragged oven mittens to transfer the steaming pot over to the low rising table in the center of his tiny living room. 

His eyes savor her every move as she flounces over to him in that annoying way that he is starting to find cute. She carefully folds her legs beneath her bottom as she joins him on the ground, her smooth makeup free face coming into his line of vision. He’d always assumed that it was her lip tint making her mouth so red and plush and so goddamn alluring, but even bare the twin petals are too much for his sleep laden brain to handle. He sits up curling his blanket in his lap, balling up the material to better hide his little morning problem. He almost hopes this is a dream, it wouldn’t be the first time she visited him in one. They usually ended in sinuous screams and naked limbs twisting but sometimes they were like this, just simple moments that made him wake up with an ache in his chest. Those dreams terrified him the most. 

“Yah! Are you listening to anything I’m saying?” Her voice cuts through the arousal thick fog in his brain, light pats on his cheek rousing him from his untoward thoughts. “What are you thinking about anyway? Why are you so distracted?” Her eyes narrow as she glances at him, slowly descending down his body almost reaching his groin and he flushes red coughing loudly before quickly moving closer to the table, hiding his lap entirely from her wandering eyes. 

Their eyes meet in a tense lock and she looks curious and something darker that he has been seeing in her eyes the more they work together. He watches swallowing a groan as she leisurely licks her lips chasing the drops of soup that have escaped. 

They don’t have time for this. There is so much to do and a part of him fears that she is using him as a distraction because she’s scared about her break-in, despite his constant warnings it had been her first real experience with how far Babel was willing to go to silence them, the first time she was in the line of fire. He had been her “hero” and that was evidently confusing her, making her think he was something better than he was. Contrary to the lie he had cowardly told her, he was nothing but a murderer. Once she saw him for what he truly was, she would want nothing to do with him- she was still a good person after all underneath her armor and brazen attitude. 

He wants her and that is exactly why he can’t have her. 

Those thoughts knock any desire promptly out of his body, he couldn’t forget that he wasn’t worthy of love. 

Problem finally resolved he stands up, “Sorry I’m not a morning person. I need to use the bathroom, thank you for the breakfast. I’ll be back.” He can feel her eyes on him the entire way to the bathroom, those huge doe-like eyes that make him want to be a better man, but surely it’s too late for someone like him. 

Right? 

They had separated after work, him meeting up with Mr. Cho secretly to discuss the fate of the gold, it was another long conversation that left them with more complications rather than solutions and he can see the frustration on the other man’s face. He will have to keep an eye on that in case it becomes something problematic. 

Something he has to handle, regrettably. 

He yanks at the stiff ball of his necktie loosening it as he pushes his key into the lock and presses the door open, he hears her laughter before he sees her almost tripping on her black high heels carelessly discarded at the door. He pauses with a rumble, “First she breaks into my house and now she almost kills me at my own front door,” with a sigh he straightens the shoes, slipping off his own and stepping into his house slippers. 

His heart lurches at the first sight of her, she’s wrapped up in the blanket he had placed around her quivering shoulders the night of the break in, only her head visible from the swaddle. She’s watching some variety show he has never watched but knows is popular here, a can of beer thankfully on a coaster on the table and too many empty bottles of soju. She turns to look at him when she senses his presence, that also disarms him because he is a man who can go undetected if he pleases and he had not made a sound upon his entry, yet she still knew he was here. 

Then she makes him weak in the knees when she shoots a soft smile his way, her rosy lips slightly upturned but its the glow in her eyes that captivates him, those dark orbs come to life when they land on him as if they were waiting for him to flush with life and vibrancy. 

“You’re home!” She calls out, still beaming at him and he stands frozen in the line of fire. She casually pats the cushion next to her, motioning him over as high pitched loud voices patter out from his TV. 

Home. He has hardly ever used that word himself, long given up on the idea of having a place to call home. But seeing her like this, a fire that had been snuffed out a long time ago starts to rekindle, a desire he had long suppressed starts to bubble back to the surface. 

I should leave. 

He thinks foolishly, but he finds himself walking over to her, skin pebbling when a warm small hand reaches out and drags him the rest of the way from his suspended form.  

“What took you so long? Why didn’t you answer my calls? I wanted you to get us some soju.” She snuggles into his arm as if this is normal for them, and with an urgent awakening he realizes that it is. Constant and casual touches flash in his memory, his hand on her shoulder as he escorts her way, her hands on his back as she carries his intoxicated body, arms wrapped around each other as they walk away from the scum that is Babel. His hands always find her body as if it’s a heat seeking missile and not once has she pushed him away, on contrary she moves into his touches and returns them just as frequently. As if they belong to each other, as if they are each other’s to touch. 

What game exactly are they playing? 

He has never lost before but suddenly it feels like his defeat is imminent. 

“You already drank all the soju in the fridge? Are you an alcoholic? Should I have you admitted?” He grumbles trying to diffuse the situation but she chuckles at his words, resting her head on his shoulder now as she peers up at him with glossy eyes. His control wavers, fluttering like a flag in the wind. 

“After everything I’ve done that’s the thing you want to get me admitted for?” She teases giggling into his collarbone and her breath ignites a flame on his skin that spreads like wildfire. “Oh. Why are you so red?” 

He jolts up, only feeling marginally guilty when she falls head first onto the couch with his sudden disappearance. When she glares up at him he has to smother a smile at the cute affronted look on her face, he is a mafia member he shouldn’t use words like “cute” but he’s constantly breaking his rules because of her. 

He escapes to his bedroom, surprisingly pigeon feather free the window securely closed for once and he looks back towards the living room with a smile, she was full of surprises. With a groan he pops his shoulder, letting the day’s tension melt away as he takes off his suit piece by piece, breathing easier when he unknots the tie and tosses it to his bed. When he is down to his boxers, he ambles over to his dresser taking out his silk pajamas- she loved to tease him about them but after running a sneaky hand over his arm, she has admitted that they felt nice on your skin- he had desperately wanted her to keep going. Dragging the bottoms on first he slides on the top, fingers on the top button when his bedroom door bursts open making him still his movement. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that I ordered fried chicken that’s why I needed soj...nnngghh” her words trail off into nonsense as she sputters at him, eyes immediately locked on the lower half of his body and he almost laughs at her wide eyed stare before she walks closer, a hand outreached as she penetrates his skin with her unblinking stare. He can see the red blush spread across her bridge of her nose and he wonders if it’s from the alcohol she has consumed or if it’s something else? 

She answers his questions with another step toward him, unflinching beneath his hard stare and he instinctively recoils, stepping back out of her reach but she double steps until they are inches apart, her fingertips hovering above his abs and then she closes the distance, stroking the ridges on his stomach making him groan, unable to contain the deep sound and he grabs her hand. 

He can’t let his go any further. 

“What are you doing? Haven’t you heard of knocking? What if I was naked?” 

The blush covers her face completely at his words and he watches fascinated as her pupils dilate and a hungry look flashes across her pretty face. 

She doesn’t look scandalized at the idea. He has seen that look many times. From her, more times than he wants to confront. 

“Cha-young.” He states her name firmly, making her eyes snap away from his body at least this time she looks ashamed of herself for ogling him, but not tremendously so. It’s not lost on him that she hasn’t tried to leave the room once. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”  

It’s a warning. For both of them really. 

It can tell by the twitch in her eyebrow she sees it as a challenge, without a word she grabs him by his shoulder tugging him closer until they are flush, her soft breasts pressing into his firm stomach and he groans when he realizes he can feel the flesh too vividly, she’s not wearing bra. Fuck. 

“Who said I couldn’t finish it?” She retorts peering up at him with those gleaming eyes, too many emotions swirling around for him to pinpoint what is the driving force behind her actions.

His arms wrap around her waist, bringing her closer despite there being no room felt to do so. She moans prettily at his tight grip swaying unevenly into him. 

She’s drunk. 

He suddenly recalls all the empty bottles of soju on the table and he loosens his hold, he refuses to take advantage of her no matter how willing she seems right now, it’s the alcohol distorting her thoughts. He releases her waist and puts his hands between them. 

“You aren’t in your right mind right now, we should stop.” 

She shakes her head disagreeing, “I got drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The alcohol didn’t make me want you, it made me do something about it.” 

He blinks at the comment feeling like her words are intoxicating him. His thoughts are incoherent. 

“I know you want me too. Don’t push me away.” She pleads and he feels his resolve crumbling as he watches her bite at her lower lip, wringing her hands between them. She seems...nervous. Scared of his rejection. 

It’s not fitting on the Cha-young he has grown to know and l...like. 

With a sigh he steps forward much to her apparent shock, wrapping his arms around her in an awkward hug, complete with too rough pats on her back and he wonders if he did the right thing when she stands frozen in his arms but then she laughs brokenly before sniffling and burrowing her head into his chest. He can feel the wetness pooling on his skin, he hugs her tighter ignoring the voice in his head warning him that he’s letting her get too close.

it’s already much too late anyway. 

He lets her cry on him until he hears admittedly gross sniffles and he starts to fear for his skin, tears are one thing but mucus is another. He might like her but there is still a line, snot is his line. 

Thankfully, when he drags her away from him her nose isn’t running, just large tears streaming down her face. Looking at that face, he would probably allow her to drip snot on him; she looks so pitiful- it’s probably the first time she has allowed herself to feel her emotions and not put on a brave front for him. 

He longs to tell her that it isn’t necessary, ever. He doesn’t need her to put on a show, he will accept her no matter what there is no version of her that isn’t perfectly imperfect in his eyes. 

But he can never say those words to her. 

“Let me put my shirt on and I’ll meet you in the living room.” He pushes her lightly, playfully glaring and shooing her away when she doesn’t immediately leave taking one final moment to ogle his body. He tries not to preen and fails horribly, it’s hard not to when the woman he wants so badly clearly wants him too- at least physically. 

She whispers something that sounds like, “You don't have to,” and he raises an eyebrow watching her leave finally, with a long suffering sigh he stares down at his overly interested friend willing it away before dragging on his shirt. 

it’s going to be a long night. 

He can smell the delicious aroma of fried chicken when he finally exits the bedroom, she offers a leg to him as soon as he’s close enough and he easily accepts the food with a bite, letting her feed him until all that remains is the bone. 

“You eat so well.” She praises and he flushes in embarrassment at her words, or more accurately at the feeling that swells up in his stomach at her deceptively maternal words. Unaware of his thoughts she continues feeding him until the food is all gone and she is looking at him with a satisfied grin. 

He tries not to become too excited when she licks the grease from her fingers, before putting the bones on a plate. 

“Here, have some wine. The storekeeper said it was popular in Italy.” 

She places the rounded curve of the wine glass at his lip and he inhales the intoxicating scent, Barolo, he can already smell the sweetness of the Nebbiolo grapes that have been long fermenting, it’s not a cheap bottle of wine or easy to acquire, not even for him while living in their country of origin. She must have looked all over to find that particular brand here in Korea. 

He stares at her with a softness he has never felt for another, not even her late father. This is bigger and more consuming, the respect he felt for the man seems to pale in comparison to the bundle of emotions he feels for his daughter. 

“Thank you.” 

She simply stares, before returning his gaze and he accepts the wine glass by the stem tipping the deep colored liquid into his mouth, flavors dancing on his taste buds and he moans freely at the delicious taste. 

They are already sitting closely, too much so for just coworkers but she moves nearer at his subconscious response, their knees knock into each other. 

“Is it that good?” She whispers breathless, staring at his mouth. Again. 

He nods dumbly, freezing when he feels her hand on his thigh. 

“Let me see.” 

He watches in a daze as she leans closer to him, his eyes following her face as she draws nearer and then he closes his eyes, tired of fighting this magnetic connection between them, he’s only a man and a bad one at that, he’s not good enough to keep pushing her away. He waits impatiently to feel the swell of her lips on his and blinks his eyes open when he feels a sudden weight on the wine glass instead, her lips curl around the ridge where his lips had just been. Taking his hand in hers, she lifts the glass and tilts it back into her mouth swallowing the liquid in a deep gulp before she pushes it back towards him, with a loud smack of her lips before moving back to her spot on the cushion. 

“Mmmmm, you’re right that’s really good.” 

His tongue is heavy in his mouth and his brain isn’t functioning well enough to give a response beyond staring at her with his mouth gaped. 

“What’s wrong were you expecting something else? Did I get your hopes up? It’s not nice is it? ” She teases obnoxiously tsking at him body loose on the arm rest opposite of him and he knows exactly what she’s alluding to, recalls her face as he had leaned across the small space of the car. She hadn’t looked scandalized in that moment either. 

No, she looked ready to risk it all. He was the coward who couldn’t risk anything. 

He leans back with a huff, folding his arms. 

“I guess it’s true, revenge is a dish best served cold. Do you feel good about yourself?” He pushes his lips out, not pouting whatsoever. 

Mafia men don’t pout. 

She snickers from the left of him, poking at this cheek gleefully. 

“Oh my god, are you pouting? You big baby! You did it to me first!” 

He has no argument to that so he doesn’t refute the claim, he just silently glares at the tv not hearing anything despite the volume being quite loud. 

“Next time let’s both be brave enough to finish what we started.” 

He turns to look at her, blinded by the hopeful smile on her face. 

Maybe he’s wrong and it’s more than physical for her too. 

If that’s true, then he needs to sever this bond sooner rather than later. 

He doesn’t reply to her, drinking more wine to occupy his mouth and she doesn’t push him, humming before turning her attention back to the tv. 

He collects all her different laughs while they watch the mindless show, the soft giggles and the full body guffaws that make her slap his knee and spill over into his space, her long hair thrown across his lap. He gives up on stopping her and finds himself smiling at her joy, offering her water when she starts to choke from laughing too hard. He pats her back and rubs her until she can speak easily again, she’s seriously a hazard to herself and he tells her as much. 

She cheekily replies, “That’s why I need you then, you’re my Italian hero.” 

He refutes that claim but he knows that she’s right, he would destroy anyone who tried to harm one hair on her head. 

Moments later when he hears her light snores, he turns the tv off and makes to stand up and put some much needed distance between them but she halts him with a gentle plea, “Don’t leave me alone please.” 

He stills at her words, staring at her closed eyes praying that she’s dreaming about someone else. That those words aren’t for him, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to ignore her appeal. 

When her head falls heavily on his shoulder again, her body distractingly warm pressed against his own he knows he should push her away it’s the only way they can both get out of this unscathed. 

But his decision making is all but obliterated, so he stupidly leans his head onto hers, deeply inhaling the sweet vanilla of her shampoo instead, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, dragging the blanket over both their bodies, silencing his heart when it jumps at her easily molding into him and softly murmuring his name from deep slumber, “Vincenzo.” 

Just for tonight, he will let himself have this. 

One night only. 

It’s all he can afford. 

[lovecanbesostrange]

Okay, for the poor people on the Ruby Lucas Harem Discord suffering because of this ask (x) on konako’s tumblr that lead to things (including this fanart x), I have this wild scene out of context.

Mary Margaret was sitting at her desk, updating her chemistry flashcards. Ruby was sitting on her bed cross-legged staring at her laptop screen, waiting for this English essay to write itself.

“Ugh,” Ruby groaned and let herself fall backwards. Out of habit she put her hands to her face, but winced when her fingers touched the band aid over her eyebrow. It’s been five days.

A knock on the door made them both turn. They usually could tell who it was by the exact sound of the knock. Like Charming had one hard knock followed by two quick ones or Mulan knocked four times in a specific rhythm. So whoever this was, was more than unexpected. Ruby drew in a sharp breath. She had heard back from the police yesterday that there would be no criminal charges, but they both knew something else would arise from this.

Mary Margaret looked at her, then turned her chair to fully face the door and Ruby got back up again. “Come in.”

“Hallo. Good, you’re here.”

“Mom!” Mary Margaret was up in a second and gave her mother a hug. “I didn’t know you’d be coming.”

Eva hugged her back, but despite the smile on her face, her voice already made them realize this was not a fun surprise visit. “I didn’t know I would be here today either.” The hug ended and she stepped into the room, her gaze landing on Ruby. “I got some news last night and suddenly I was in my car this morning.”

Mary Margaret glanced at the clock. It was a twelve hours drive with good traffic, so Eva must’ve gotten behind the wheel around 4am.

“Hi…” Ruby busied herself closing her laptop and didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Eva stroked Mary Margaret’s hair, “would you mind giving us the room? I want to talk to Ruby.”

“Sure.” Mary Margaret glanced between the two and then grabbed her things from the desk. “I’m down the hall in the common area.” When she passed Eva she whispered: “Don’t be too harsh on her, please.”

That made Eva smile. Her daughter knew exactly why she was here, but she looked out for her friend. These girls always had each other’s back and knowing they were loyal like that, dragging each other out of trouble, was certainly a good thing.

Eva took the vacant chair and rolled herself over a bit towards Ruby’s bed. “So.”

Ruby slowly looked up. Eva took in the bandaid and she could see a faint red line indicating that her lip must have been busted. Trying to hide one hand with the other was a giveaway that her knuckles were bruised as well. Eva had to breathe slowly. A part of her wanted to grab Ruby by the shoulders and shake the whole story out of her. She wanted to yell about irresponsibilties, the futility of violence and all the consequences physical assault could come with. The bigger part of her wanted to cradle her like the 9 year old she sometimes still saw, who confessed to lying about her home address, as if not having loving parents was her personal failing.

“I was at dinner with friends last night and suddenly got asked if I heard about the ruckus on campus. I was really surprised when I was shown this tiny article about a football player beating up another student. And it took me two phone calls to find out it was you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby murmured towards the blanket she was sitting on, playing with the seam of her sweatpants.

“For what?” Eva tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible. She had felt every emotion during the long drive and had played out many versions of this conversation. But sitting in this room she realized none of those would work.

Ruby furrowed her brows and finally looked up. “Beating up that guy, of course?” It was a bit more of a question than a statement. The question had rattled her. There was so much to be sorry for though. The beating, losing her temper at all, making Regina worry that night already, not doing so great in classes lately, clinging to Snow, making her team suffer… oh, wait. “Also for not calling… I guess…”

The board said that her mother, Anita, would be notified of this by mail. That was her home address, her contact, but maybe this was why Eva was here. The Blanchards had always cared, but now she was in college, she wasn’t a kid anymore, she had to do these things by herself. But maybe, just maybe they should have called. “I shouldn’t have put this on Snow alone… she should’ve talked to you…”

“Ruby, no.” Eva got up and sat down on the bed, gesturing Ruby to scoot over next to her. “Sure, I’m disappointed-”

The word stung and Ruby interjected immediately. “I’m sorry. I messed up, but I promise Snow wasn’t even there and I won’t-”

“Stop!” Eva took Ruby’s hands, now seeing the bruises already turning yellow, showing the passage of time already. “I am disappointed you didn’t call. And I’m glad to hear Mary wasn’t involved, but I wanted to know anyway. Because of you. I care about you. And this is serious. I know…” She paused and slowed down, knowing the next thing would hurt, but after all these years, Eva needed to say it out loud. “I know your mom doesn’t take good care of you, I know you feel like she doesn’t care at all and I honestly don’t know if she does. But I do. I am not your mother, but I care.”

The dam broke and Ruby started to cry. Eva took her into her arms and immediately Ruby clung to her. It was weird that Eva had seen the aftermath of Ruby crying quite a few times over the years, but rarely had she shed tears in front of her. Maybe Eva should have made her before, pushed her a little bit towards that to hammer it home that she cared and that she would be there for her. Just the same she had hugged Mary Margaret after break-ups, over bruised knees, bad grades, and other bad news.

“I’m sorry for everything”, Ruby got out between sobs. Her tears stained Eva’s blouse already. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t want to hurt people… I swear I want to be good.”

There was more, but it was hard to decipher it all and Eva let her cry, rubbing circles on her back. Getting the full story would take time, that was for sure. All she could do now was to reassure Ruby. “I know you’re good, you just made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

Eva looked over Ruby’s shoulder and saw her pinboard. A few pictures were on it and she immediately recognized one taken the time she and Leopold had taken the girls to Six Flags. They had ridden all the rollercoasters until they were practically green in the face. It had also been the day she had seen Ruby at her most carefree. There was one photo of Ruby with her Grandmother, a woman Eva had met only once. Anita was nowhere to be found on the wall.

A group shot looked nice. Eva recognized David from the pictures Mary Margaret had sent her, but couldn’t even guess who the others were. It was a bit sad living too far away to meet all these people, because she had made it a point to know Mary Margaret’s friends in school by face and name. Mulan, Belle, August, Robin, Jasmin, Anna, Aurora… so many names. She smiled at the picture in the corner that showed Ruby in her team uniform, helmet in hand. A candid shot, her elbow resting on the shoulder of another girl. Or maybe it was young woman now.

Eva turned a bit to catch a glimpse of Mary Margaret’s pinboard. Cluttered with far more pictures, flyers and notes. They shared a room, they had shared the most parts of their lives for the past 11 years and yet there still was such a noticeable difference.

Ruby started to calm down and when she let go, Eva leaned forward to get tissues out of her bag. “Can you tell me your version of the story now? All I know is that you were provoked and sent a boy to the hospital. The article said something about questionable self-defense.”

“There are no criminal charges,” Ruby said after blowing her nose. “He said something to my friend. Insulted her. And he wouldn’t stop, calling her… the c-word… and when he touched me, I lost it.”

“He was in the hospital,” she prompted.

“For a broken arm.” A pause. “A broken nose.” Ruby looked at Eva again. “He lost a tooth. And has some more bruises than I do. He was on the ground fast…”

Eva put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “I have no problem believing you would defend any of your friends like that. But you must have hit him pretty hard.” Ruby nodded, the shame was visible. “Tell me the truth. Has this happened before? Because what I can’t believe is that you would pound someone when he’s already down. Something else is going on and I want to know if that will happen again.”

Ruby pressed her palms against the mattress and slid away a bit. Eva could hear - and even see - her breathing pick up. This was almost all the confirmation she needed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Has it happened before, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Silence fell.

Eva closed her eyes. This was the thing she had feared. Because either Ruby had lost it very big time and the paper didn’t cover the big scoop behind it. Or something had been going on and she had been blind to it. And she needed to hear this from Ruby herself either way.

“When?”

“Back in high school… it was… at junior prom…”

Eva scrambled her brain. She remembered Mary Margaret having a date and giving her one more motherly talk about safe sex that had left her daughter bright red in the face. She also remembered that date bringing her home even before curfew and that Mary Margaret had been not very talkative that night. She had sworn nothing bad had happened with him and Eva only suspected that they’d had a stupid teen argument. There was nothing too remarkable about that. Had she seen Ruby the next day? She couldn’t recall.

While she was thinking, Ruby went on hesitantly. “This boy Peter had asked me out… from the hockey team… but it… it was all a prank… some of those guys wanted to like… set me up for a joke… and... “ She quickly glanced up and right back down again. “It wasn’t as bad, he had bruises and a swollen eye. Snow was there to stop me and we all agreed to not tell anyone. I apologized to him though. And it all… it was… like now… just more… it wasn’t just Whale being a dick to my friend, it’s… everything is so much sometimes and I explode.”

This was less surprising to hear than Eva cared to admit. “Have you ever hurt somebody with intention?”

Ruby shook her head. Her voice was broken. “One time… but only one time… I shoved Snow… I swear it was only once… I yelled at her and shoved her and the second I had done that… I apologized immediately and I never ever intended to hurt anybody.” She looked at Eva again. “Least of all her. I swear.” For this she held eye contact as long as she could.

Eva reached out touching her hand that was clenched around the edge of the mattress. “Thank you for being honest.”

There were a lot of details Eva wanted to know about, but this had been hard enough on Ruby. And now they had time to figure things out. But she had revealed a bright spot. “No criminal charges, you said?”

Ruby nodded. “The police seem very uninterested. And any civil things… well, I need to worry about what the board decides. My… friend said her family will keep things on the down-low.” She squirmed a bit.

“Who is this friend?”

“Regina Mills.”

“Mills? Oh.” Of all the people to get in a fight for, this was probably the luckiest choice. Although it didn’t sit right with Eva that there might be things going to circumvent what law dictated. But she also knew that worse people got away with far worse behavior and Ruby deserved to have one strike with minimal consequences. Even if this was technically her second. “I have looked up a few therapists in town already. I nee-”

“I’m seeing the campus therapist already. But I blew off a few appointments and I get that I shouldn’t.” Eva looked over at Mary Margaret’s bed at that. “Yes, Snow made me. She went with me the first time even.”

“What else are you girls keeping from me?” That came out more judgmental than she meant to. “I know you’re growing up, but you’re still kids to me. I always thought you knew you can come to me with problems.”

“Sorry.”

Eva scooted closer again and put her arm around Ruby’s shoulder. “Enough with the apologies. I know you’re a good kid. I remember you kept Mary from starting to smoke, so that’s something.”

“You know about that?” Ruby looked at her bewildered.

“I am a mom after all and some things I do pick up. You didn’t like it, because you’re an athlete, right?”

“Yeah, it’s super shitty for your lungs and I told her it was uncool.”

Eva laughed. “Wish that would work on Leo and his cigars. But thanks for that. I know you two look out for each other. But I will have to chew out my daughter for keeping a few too many secrets.” Ruby tensed up a bit. “What? Something else I need to know?”

“No…” She dragged the syllable out, dragging her toes over the floor.

“Ruby, I just said you can tell me. That is all I want from you, the truth. And we can work anything out from there.”

“But… what if…” She crossed her arms in front of chest, bracing herself. “What if… I’m not who you think I am?”

“You’re Ruby Lucas. You’re the best friend of my daughter, almost more like a sister. You worked your butt off to get here and you work hard to be the best version of you. I know you even send some of that money home you make at the gas station. Because you care so much about people you love, like your grandmother. I know you are a good person, even though you keep way too much inside. But we can work on that now.” She gave Ruby a kiss on the head, like she would with Mary Margaret. “What could be so bad about you?”

“I’m… I think… I’m gay.” Ruby breathed out that last word and was one tense muscle in Eva’s half embrace.

Eva looked at the pinboard again. The picture with Ruby smiling while leaning on the other girl. It clicked. On top of everything else, this secret had weighed Ruby down. She sure had enough reasons to be angry at the world already. This wasn’t something Eva had prepared for, so she just brought around her other arm to pull Ruby closer. “I want you to be happy and in love.” Finally she felt Ruby breathe in again.

((I just have to stop myself here. This could go on and on and on and on otherwise. Because I already know Eva is gonna take them out to dinner, insisting on meeting David. She gets a hotel room nearby. Of course Snow offers to let her sleep in the dorm but “Honey, that’s kind, but no. So much no to sleeping in a dorm bed.” And she freshens up a bit and passes a book store, where her eye is caught by a pride display and she gets a bracelet with a tiny rainbow flag, two actually, she wears one and gives the other to Ruby, because well, she doesn’t know exactly what to say, but this will definitely not make her think less of her!! Eva is the silent MVP of the story.))

[superanimeidiot]

what was supposed to be a teeny tiny drabble (it’s not)

Ok so I was writing Karma’s confrontation with his mother and then THIS scene popped into my head. It doesn’t fit at all in the chapter (it’s supposed to be about Karma and his mom duh) but I really really wanted to write it anyway so I figured I would write the little scene and post it here but THEN it turned into this 2k word monstrosity that was SUPPOSED to be a SMALL SCENE but it decided it was going to make me stay up until 2 AM WRITING IT and it just wouldn’t LEAVE ME ALONE. So yeah I’m kinda sleep deprived and this has only been very lightly proofread and hasn’t gone through nearly as much fine-tuning as I normally put my writing through but it is currently 2:37 AM and I am satisfied with it for now so HERE HAVE THIS SCRAP I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

(also this is set the night Korosensei died. If I’m remembering canon right they killed Korosensei then, like, hid up in their classroom until leaving for graduation? Which is so messed up on so many levels like why did they go straight from a very traumatic event to their graduation without even seeing their families or SLEEPING???? So I hereby declare that, with the whole crisis thing, Kunugigaoka postponed the graduation ceremony and after they killed Korosensei Class E was taken to that government station place I vaguely remember they were taken to in canon and their parents were called to pick them up.)

Karma is curled up in a stiff plastic chair, knees pulled up to his chest, a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his cellphone clutched between his fingers, when his father finds him. Gakuhou doesn’t say anything. He sits beside Karma in his own stiff plastic chair and watches him, not saying a word.

Karma swallows around the lump that’s been lodged in his throat since Korosensei died. “You don’t have to stay with me,” he says, his voice hoarse from the aforementioned lump. He hasn’t spoken since the mountaintop. That’s why the police wrapped him in the shock blanket. “Mom is on her way.”

“Okay,” his father says, but he doesn’t move. 

Karma is too tired to dredge up the familiar anger. He’s too tired for anything. He thinks he’ll be this tired forever - the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that reaches to the soul and weighs his whole body down. He traces a finger across the edge of his phone. 

“They’re going to get rid of you,” he says. He doesn’t sound happy, or vindictive, or smug - just very matter-of-fact. “The parents will be out for blood, and they can’t go after the government. You make a very nice scapegoat.”

His father gives a soft exhale that could, charitably, be called a laugh. “Yes,” he agrees. “My days at Kunugigaoka are over. Does that make you happy?” he asks, only mildly curious.

Karma taps a finger against his phone, considering. “If I was a nice person,” he says, slowly, “I would say no.”

Gakuhou does laugh at that. “You’re my son,” he says. “You were never going to be a nice person.”

Karma glares from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t contest it. “It serves you right,” he decides. “After all the crap you pulled in this school, you deserve to be kicked out on your ass.”

Gakuhou nods. “A fair assessment.”

They sit in silence, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Karma’s phone buzzes with a text from his mother, telling him they’re fifteen minutes away but traffic might delay them. Karma wonders what kind of traffic could possibly exist at this hour, then realizes the traffic that occurs after major, life-altering events. He sends back a thumbs up emoji. His hands, unoccupied once more, begin to tap a staccato beat against the back of his cell.

His father remains absolutely still in his chair, no signs of nervous movement or absentminded tics. Clearly, Karma’s restless nature was not inherited from him. He seems content to sit with Karma in silence, but Karma, suddenly, is not.

“Why are you here?” he blurts out, with zero forethought. 

Gakuhou tilts his head. “Do you want me to leave?”

“That’s not an answer.”

His father huffs a quiet laugh, nodding his acknowledgement. “I saw the news,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “The reporter was talking about some monster in Kunugigaoka, and the government wasn’t saying anything. Nobody knew what was going on, just that something was happening and it was bad.” He pauses, and Karma waits, wondering when his father would get to the point that led him to sitting in an uncomfortable chair, keeping his estranged son company in the small hours of the morning.

“And then your mother called me.”

Karma visibly startles in his chair as a bolt of surprise rips through him. He’d been staring at his shoes during his father’s story, but now he turns to openly gape at Gakuhou. Never in a million years would he guess his mother would ever willingly, of her own volition, speak to his father again.

“Was she mad?” He realizes how stupid the question is as soon as it leaves his mouth. 

A wry sort of smile twists Gakuhou’s lips. “I think furious is putting it lightly. I couldn’t understand some of what she said through the screaming, but I got the gist. You had run off to Kunugigaoka on some suicide mission for your class, and if anything happened to you she would string me up herself.”

“She didn’t really say that,” Karma denies, then hesitates. “Did she?”

“No,” Gakuhou says drily, rubbing a tired palm against his eyes. “She was much more graphic.”

Karma’s jaw drops again. He can picture it suddenly, playing clear in his mind like a movie: his mother red-faced and rumpled in her pajamas as she screams at his father through her cell phone, crying and issuing threats in the same breath; his father, sitting at his desk or on his couch, watching the news in blank shock and listening to his ex-wife’s promises to kill him if anything happened to Karma.

Karma swallows roughly. “You deserve that too.”

“Yes,” Gakuhou agrees. “I do.”

Karma nods once, sharply, waiting for Gakuhou to resume his explanation.

“Your mother ran out of steam eventually and hung up. I called Karasuma and asked him what was going on, and he told me what he could. I woke Gakushuu up, told him what was happening and not to answer the door or phone unless it was me, and then I drove here.”

Karma nods again, thoughtfully this time. “That’s still not an answer,” he points out. “Why are you here,” he stresses, “with me, sitting in this stupid chair when you could be literally anywhere else?”

Gakuhou frowns, slumping back in his chair in a casual show of exhaustion Karma has never seen on him. “You’re my son,” he says, a raw edge in his voice, as if that is all the explanation required. “My youngest child.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“No,” his father agrees, almost sadly. “You’re not. You don’t need me to protect you anymore. This is probably more for me than you, anyway. I needed to know you were safe.”

He scoffs. “I didn’t know you cared.”

The wry smile makes a reappearance. “Neither did I. I had convinced myself I didn’t care what happened to you or your mother. At least, until you popped up in the last place I expected to find you.” He sighs softly, head tilting back to watch the ceiling. “I have many things to apologize for, Karma. I messed up with you in so many ways. But I don’t think you want to hear them right now, so I thought I could sit with you until your mother got here and…” he pauses, searching for the right words. He must give up on finding them, though, because he sighs gustily and sinks lower into his chair. “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he admits. “I doubt I offer much in the way of comfort. Do you want me to leave?”

Karma considers. “Any other night, I would probably say yes. But tonight…” 

Tonight, they killed Korosensei. Tonight, he scraped his nerves raw during his confrontation with his mother. Tonight, he’d been sitting by himself in a stiff chair, wrapped in a shock blanket, replaying the night in his head and feeling more and more adrift until his father sat down beside him and made him feel less alone. 

“Tonight, you can stay,” he says. It’s still not forgiveness. His father hasn’t apologized yet, and Karma still hasn’t decided whether he’ll grant it. If anything, it’s a white flag - a temporary cease-fire. For now, it’s enough.

Gakuhou nods, and they settle back into silence. 

A while later, his phone buzzes again. It’s another text from his mother. They’re five minutes away now. His time with his father is ticking away. He wonders how he should spend it. Silence is probably safest. Karma is too numb right now to work up enough anger for a fight, but if he opens his mouth and says the wrong thing he might mess up the fragile truce they’ve landed on. He realizes, to his slight consternation, he doesn’t want to mess it up. 

What he does want, he realizes, is the answer to one simple question. If he’s lucky, Gakuhou will answer. If he’s really lucky, he’ll be too numb with shock for the answer to hurt too badly. 

He fiddles with his phone some more, twisting it in his fingers as he considers whether to ask his next question.  “If I ask you something,” he says, haltingly, “will you give me an honest answer?”

“Yes,” is the immediate reply.

“You’ll tell me the truth?” he presses. “Even if it hurts me? Even if it makes me hate you?”

“I thought you already hated me,” Gakuhou says, amused. Then, more serious, “I won’t lie to you, Karma. Even if it hurts. Ask your question.”

Karma nods, still considering. He checks his phone and sees he only has a few minutes before his parents arrive. Whatever, he thinks, metaphorically tossing up his hands. I’ve been torturing myself with this for years. At least now I’ll know. 

“Were you sad when mom took me?”

He’d like to say the room grew quiet after he spoke, but that would be a lie. People are still bustling around them, fielding phone calls and doing whatever government people do after a major crisis. The world moves on, even when you’re falling apart. 

Still, in their corner of the room, Karma feels like a bubble has separated him and Gakuhou from the rest of the world. The noise of other people doesn’t exist anymore. For him, there is only silence and the sound of his heartbeat as he waits for Gakuhou to answer.

It takes a long time. Or maybe it just feels long because he’s holding his breath.

“When I watched her drive away,” his father says, measuring the words out bit by bit, “and realized that was it - when I realized she was taking you and you weren’t coming back…” He sighs, a heavy sound. “Yes. It didn’t feel real until that moment. I watched the car disappear and thought I was having a heart attack. I locked myself in my office and drank an entire bottle of sake until it stopped hurting. I didn’t cry,” he muses aloud. “I think I was too sad to cry. Too sad, and I didn’t think I deserved to. It was my fault, after all. I drove you both away. I didn’t have the right to cry about it.”

Karma rests his chin on top of his knees as he processes. If he was in his right mind, he would probably be angry. That’s his typical response to anything his father says or does. The anger still feels far away right now, but he knows he’ll feel it eventually. Maybe not tomorrow (today?) or even the next day - not with grief for Korosensei still so fresh in his heart. Eventually, though, he’ll replay his father’s confession and feel a blood boiling rage he won’t know what to do with. It’s what he’s been waiting for all these years: his father admitting he loved him, maybe even that he still loves him. It’s every wish he’s ever made since he was a little kid. He’ll feel angry and heartbroken all over again, and he won’t even have Korosensei to help him deal with it (and oh, that thought sends a fresh wave of grief over him, so powerful he almost drowns in it. He latches onto the numbness and sinks further into it. It’s safer there).

He isn’t angry now, though, just numb and a little sad. He lifts his chin from his knees and presses his face against them, wrapping the blanket even tighter around himself. He’s hiding - either from his father or the world in general. He doesn’t know for sure, and he doesn’t feel like analyzing it. 

“If you had told me that six years ago,” he says into his knees, muffled but still audible, “I would’ve forgiven you for anything.”

It’s the truth. Eight year old Karma would have done anything to hear that his father was sad he left, that he loved him enough to be sad. He would have let go of every bitter feeling in his heart and forgiven Gakuhou wholeheartedly for every misdeed. Eight year old Karma, he thinks, was an idiot. 

Not an idiot, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Nagisa chides. Just a child. Just a kid who wanted to hear that his father loved him. That’s not stupid. That’s just how kids are.

His father doesn’t say anything, but Karma didn’t really want him to anyway. They’ve both said their piece. It’s too late to change the past, and neither are even sure if they have a future. Sometimes it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. 

His phone buzzes, but this time it keeps buzzing. Twisting his head to the side so his cheek is pressed against his legs, he checks it. It’s his mother. She’s here, presumably, and looking for him. Time to go. He sighs, letting his feet fall to the floor as he stands, the blanket sliding from his shoulders and landing in a heap on his empty chair. He answers the call.

“Hi, mom,” he murmurs as he walks away. “I’m on my way out now.”

He doesn’t say goodbye.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 277: Go Go Child Soldiers

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “hey guys I’m going to kill off Aizawa” and we were like “no you’re not” and he was like “watch me, I’m really gonna do it!!” and we were all “DO NOT” and he was all “okay okay geez.” I don’t know if he thinks he’s being cute or what, but we will probably have to have a little talk after this. Anyway, so other stuff that happened included the obligatory news copter showing up to record the carnage so that All Might and Eri can watch; Tomura activating some Approximately High End Noumus to serve as cannon fodder to distract all the hero extras; and Gran dropping off Kacchan and Deku a little ways away from the battle and being all “stay here”, which was IMMEDIATELY and PROFOUNDLY ignored as they just FLEW RIGHT BACK OVER TO THE BATTLE anyway to save Aizawa. Yep. Kacchan really wants to lose that quirk.

Today on BnHA: Tomura, Deku, Kacchan, and Endeavor all take turns flinging each other into the ground and launching fire and explosions and stuff, all of which is impressively violent and doesn’t really get anything accomplished. The grown-ups all collectively decide to shrug off Deku and Kacchan joining in on the fight as though they’re teenagers sneaking into an R-rated film as opposed to CHILDREN on a BATTLEFIELD, and I can’t help but feel like this very nonchalant decision will have some serious consequences! Tomura has a moment of self-awareness in which he’s all “is AFO possessing me lol” before deciding “NAH THAT CAN’T POSSIBLY BE TRUE” which, haha, okay. The chapter then ends with Mt. Lady unsettlingly taking on Gigantomachia ALL BY HERSELF??! which seems like a REALLY TERRIBLE IDEA?? and had better not result in anything bad happening to her though or I SWEAR TO GOD.

ooooooooh!

preview of the final battle, anyone? and I feel like this panel is deliberately drawn to resemble All Might and AFO’s iconic battle at Kamino as well, which ramps up the intensity all the more. very nice

and shout out to Aizawa for making this moment possible with his quirk! I have to assume this isn’t something we’re gonna get the chance to see too often moving forward, unless he decides to chaperone all future battles from here on out, which would be good for the kids but also very stressful for me

anyways, so... lol

it really is almost as though Gran asked them this question and then Deku was like “OOH! I KNOW!” and then just leaped into action to demonstrate. “this!! him getting ahold of me, right?? this would be so much worse.” good job Deku

although

he’s not wrong, though. dammit. I mean, I’ve already tacitly endorsed their involvement by approving of them saving Aizawa’s life. you know, for that brief span of time after Aizawa showed up and before we knew how powerful Tomura would still be even without his quirks, I really thought that Aizawa losing his own quirk was all but an inevitability. now, though, it kinda feels like they absolutely wouldn’t stand a chance without him?? hahaha

honestly it’s a little uncomfortable to think about the fact that the Child Soldiers That We All Agree Should Under No Circumstances Be A Part Of This War have so far a) saved Hawks’s life and b) now saved Aizawa’s, and by extension c) saved the entire world. I mean but don’t get me wrong, you still won’t see me writing the HPSC any thank you cards any time soon

anyway now that I’ve said all that, watch Aizawa just immediately lose his fucking quirk right afterwards though. WE’LL SEE

...sigh

why is every last one of the pros so utterly goddamn useless. sorry, was that a bit harsh. I’ll try to phrase it more gently. what I meant to say was, why is every single non-Mirko adult person on this mission about as useful as a RoseArt crayon. why do they all SUCK so HARD. why are they BAD. bad!! they’re just bad!!!

anyways but back to Deku

I’m torn between SOBBING FREELY at this and banging my head against a wall lmao. help please my green son is so loving and brave and so tremendously stupid, just

this is true! and by the way though Deku, just remind me again, I spaced it out just now, what was the reason Tomura was out here to get ambushed by Aizawa and the others in the first place? he was after... something? one for... the road? one for the money? one flew over the cuckoo’s nest?? damn what was it

damn it Aizawa stop dumping your feels in the middle of my sarcastic rants

bro. I know, right?? listen I’m proud of him too don’t get me wrong! the unfortunate thing is though that right now he’s not just your student; he’s also -- and it’s not your fault you don’t know this yet though -- The Thing That Tomura Wants Right Now, On A Silver Platter. so yeah. hence why I am concerned

oop no time to talk though cuz my boys are doing a ~*~COMBO THING~*~ ooooooooh yeahhhhhhh

look at that. “okay Deku you just hold him there and try not to get shot.” truly dazzling teamwork there

LISTEN, YOU!!

THE DISRESPECT?? ooh man and look at his face. this is the happy reunion I’ve been waiting oh my god oh my god

LOL

YEAH HE CAN DO THAT NOW HAHA. while you were off getting all transcendent he was mastering his BLOOP now what huh take that

...sob he’s just yanking Deku along behind him as if he weighs nothing. it’s like that one fancomic of the entire Bakusquad trying to stop an angry Kirishima --

-- HOLY SHIT I SAID “WHOA” ALOUD

MEEP THAT’S CLOSE. whew. okay. breathe. breathe

OH IT’S YOU AGAIN

you guys, is it just me or has this entire battle so far just been one long loop of -> Deku tries to fight Tomura -> Kacchan goes with -> Kacchan almost dies -> an adult intervenes at the last possible second -> Endeavor tries to fight Tomura -> Endeavor almost dies -> Deku tries to fight Tomura -> repeat ad infinitum

anyway so Tomura’s actually going flying into the ground now. that probably came within a hair’s breath of actually nearly almost mildly hurting him! way to go guys keep it up!

and Endeavor’s now echoing a question which many fans have been asking these last few weeks, “where’s Shouto?” where indeed. off somewhere not being a dumbass like these two, one hopes. maybe sticking his arm down some Not Quite High Ends’ throats and making them hibernate

lord help us Tomura’s actually stopped fighting for two seconds to monologue. is this good or bad??

is this a deliberate tactic? are you trying to buy time?? I don’t like this lol. why did they stop fighting you now that they’ve finally almost sort of got an edge on you

wow we’re really just... letting the kids fight, huh

just letting them be right there in formation with Endeavor. no one stops to think “are there any actual adult people we could try and swap out in place of these two high school freshmen?” because they already know the answer is “no there are not” SIGH

EVEN AIZAWA OMG

AND WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT?? “la la la we’re not gonna think about it.” goddammit I liked it when you guys were at least trying to pretend like the sixteen-year-olds shouldn’t be here fdslkfjlk

anyway. for what it’s worth, at least we’ve got the only three people in the world who ever tried to surpass All Might standing up here ready to take on the guy whose strength and toughness is approximately the same as his. that’s something. I guess this really is our best shot

YES WE GET IT

“I GUESS IT CAN’T BE HELPED” should be the goddamn chapter title. either that or “SHRUG, CHILD SOLDIERS, I GUESS!!!”

anyway so he’s telling Deku and Kacchan not to ask for direction in one breath, and then giving them orders right away with the next

djsalfkj. welp. you heard him Kacchan. guard Deku no matter what. this will definitely end well

KLDSKFLKSHG MEANWHILE!!!

DON’T MIND HIM HE’S JUST POSSESSED BY A LITTLE BIT OF AFO-SOUL. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT

oh man he actually looks freaked out??!

like he has no idea what happened just now. I’m sorry, up until this point were you thinking that having echo-y “wooooo... One for All... go get it~~” voices inside your head was perfectly normal?? lol boy he’s been playing you this whole time and he’s still playing you. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU IGNORE YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S EERIE DREAM WARNINGS. YOU GET POSSESSED

meanwhile!! both Deku and Tomura reacting at the same time! DO YOU BELIEVE ME THAT THEY SHARE A MENTAL LINK YET. hmm hmm hmm anyway

so now Tomura is straight up in denial!

sadly I’m growing more and more convinced that he’s wrong on all three accounts there. you may think it’s your power and your body...

and wait though, because this is the first time that the idea of him not being in control of his body has actually been brought up, isn’t it? so that’s a nice big red flag there! up until now the argument could be made that even if AFO’s will is manipulating Tomura from behind the scenes and influencing his decisions, there was nothing to indicate that AFO could potentially take over his entire body. but now that Tomura has brought it up as a possibility -- even if he’s in denial about it -- I’d say it’s not only possible, but extremely likely! so that’s a nice big thing looming on the horizon there

and it also in turn gives us a potential solution to the question of “how can this battle possibly end without all of the heroes dying and/or Tomura losing?” because one has to assume that Aizawa’s quirk is going to be taken out of the picture at some point, whether it’s because of him blinking at the wrong time or being shot with a bullet or what. at which point Tomura would basically become unstoppable again and be free to just destroy everything like he wants. but now this introduces the possibility of him potentially taking himself out of the picture for the time being. like if he realizes that he’s in danger of being outright possessed, I could see him leaving them for now and running off to go wage mental war with himself for a while, giving the heroes some time to regroup and lick their wounds. so that’s interesting to think about

holy shit!!

okay so just a couple of things I want to take note of here before we read on

“I don’t want to become like you” -- I think we can take this as confirmation that Tomura will fight against AFO if and when he realizes he’s being manipulated. his loyalty to him isn’t completely blind. so that could have some potentially huge implications moving forward

this image of Tomura being on the inside of AFO’s body, in what looks to be the same mental landscape from chapter 270, though. ...yeah. just who is really in charge, here

anyway so his next thought on page 11 is “I want to be even greater than you”, echoing Deku (and Kacchan’s) desire to be even greater than All Might, which is yet another nice parallel between them

and he’s basically telling the AFO voice inside him to shut up now, as if it will actually listen

yep. you want to go after One for All for your own deeply personal reasons. not following your master’s whims at all, nope. you are your own man

so now finally Gran is getting in on the action!

no idea why he want after the arm though. as if a broken arm ever stopped anyone in this fucking manga

OOOH NANA NAME DROP

???? um??? your dead grandma??? remember???!! don’t tell me you don’t at least recognize your own fucking last name there?? that is significant and don’t try to tell me otherwise! and in a chapter about you being rebellious and trying to defy AFO’s will, besides!!

holy shit

1. THE GRAN/TOSHINORI FATHER/SON FEELS I WASN’T READY!!, and 2. HOLY SHIT THIS OLD MAN IS RIPPED, THOUGH

AND HERE COMES ENDEAVOR NOW TO RUIN EVERYTHING SOMEHOW, PROBABLY

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT FACE MEANS BUT IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T A GOOD FACE I CAN TELL YOU THAT

OH NO SOMEHOW DEKU GOT INVOLVED AGAIN LOL

DIDN’T I TELL YOU IT WAS A NEVERENDING LOOP OF A FIGHT. SO NEXT UP IS KACCHAN JOINING IN AND THEN ALMOST DYING AGAIN

OH MY GOD

NEVER. ENDING. LOOP oh god oh god. next time don’t loudly shout “HE’S JUST THE BAIT” before launching your surprise attack you dingus!!

HOLY MOLY

OKAY BUT

I don’t know about you but I am hella impressed that he managed a blast like that without blowing his own fucking arm off

with the exception of that one time he got all excited and tried to vaporize Todoroki during the sports festival, we have almost never seen Katsuki go all out against anyone, and the possibility that we might be about to see it now is THRILLING. I AM THRILLED

NOW WE’RE CUTTING TO ENDEAVOR AND HE’S FLASHING BACK TO THE SHORT SPEECH ALL MIGHT GAVE HIM WAY BACK WHEN ABOUT THEM BEING DIFFERENT AND ABOUT HOW ENDEAVOR SHOULD FIND HIS OWN PATH RATHER THAN TRYING TO BE THE SAME KIND OF SYMBOL AS ALL MIGHT. AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS IS OR WHY IT’S BEING BROUGHT UP NOW BUT OH GOLLY!

(ETA: I guess it might be because Endeavor -- unlike All Might -- isn’t facing Tomura alone but is working together with the kids to do this combo? like it’s a teamwork thing? I don’t really know lol I’ll think on it some more.)

LOL WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING. lol everything is either being exploded or on fire

KFFLSLLK “MEANWHILE”?????

OH NO OH GOD

SIGHING OUT LOUD AGAIN!! not because I’m disappointed to cut away from the Kacchan Loses His Quirk Battle (in due time!!), but because this means that yet again I’m going to have to spend a chapter worrying about Horikoshi killing off one of the TWELVE remaining living female pro hero characters he has, of which one is a healer, another is retired and working as a secretary, yet another only seems to do TV commercials, yet another another currently has... I want to say two limbs?? but I’m not even sure anymore, and lastly two more yet anothers are currently WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN and MAY ALREADY BE DEAD. so if you’re counting, that’s a full HALF of what was already maybe only a fifth of the total pro hero population in general

all of which is to say that IF YOU SO MUCH AS LAY A FINGER ON MT. LADY I WILL FUCKING END YOU HORIKOSHI. we are NOT HAVING THAT. you hear me?? YOU CAN’T SPEND ALL OF YOUR FREE TIME DRAWING MIRKO ALL OVER THE PLACE AND BEING ALL “I FUCKING LOVE GIRL POWER” ONLY TO GO AND BE ALL “OH BUT I KILLED MT. LADY THOUGH WHOOPS”!! DO YOU HEAR ME?? THIS AIN’T IT

sigh. and yet why do I have a very bad feeling about this. hopefully I’m just overreacting. please don’t sully this amazing arc!! MANGA GODS, I OFFER YOU THIS PRAYER

[cyberfairyblog]

Why Jillian Sucks

Hi, welcome to Odyssey Mystery Hour! I'm your host @gritsandbrits and today I'll be talking about a hot topic in the AIO fandom! Wanna know the tea? Keep on reading!

In the weeks I started getting back into the radio series, the newer episodes have started to irk me, mostly because of one of the more annoying additions: Jillian. Marshall. 😬😬😬

Even though I ship Jason with my self insert OC this not going to be about her. There's a lot of reasons why I do NOT like the idea of Jillian x Jason becoming a canon thing on the show. I hope to describe these feelings as best I can.

Who is Jillian you might ask?

Well to put it simply, Jillian is what happens when a Soccer Mom and a TikTok boyfriend mate and spawn an unholy baby and name them Rachel Berry. Out of the aspects of Nu!Odyssey I dislike, Jillian is the one thing I truly despise. Thankfully I've met fans who share the exact sentiment! 😁😒

Double-N Annoying, Double-O Nincompoop

Making her debut in 2018, Jillian is described as lively and upbeat, if a little high strung and immature; the perfect recipe for Kid Appeal! Before she moved to Odyssey she lived in different cities and worked nineteen jobs before becoming roommates with Connie and her sister Jules.

Now this is actually a fairly interesting set up: a new character struggling to find purpose only to discover it in a quaint small town. But as it turns out her going through that many jobs seems to be more than just struggling to find purpose.

When I first saw her design my thought immediately went to the smarmy classmates I went to school with.

We're introduced with this iconic line: "Hi!! I'm Jillian Marshall, double-L Jillian, double-L Marshall! It's so nice to meet you!"

With that one sentence I knew I was about to die.

The following episode has Jillian bumbling through every job interview much to Connie's duress after which she conveniently ending up working at Triple J Antiques...the same place Jason works!

A little backstory on Jason: he is the adult son of John Whittaker, one of the show's main character, and a bit of an Ensemble Darkhorse. He was introduced as a secret agent meant to bring action and intrigue into the show. He was set up as a charismatic and reckless sort of guy clashing with the calmer Jack Allen. After the Green Ring Conspiracy Saga, Jason officially retired from James Bonding and settled down to work at the Allen's antique shop.

Given his immense popularity there's understandable concern for how he is written and who he gets paired up with. So what does that have to do with Jillian.

Well, the idea of Jillian working at the same exact place as Odyssey's resident bachelor and calling him cute raises a few eyebrows.

"B-but Grits all she did was call him cute! You're reaching too far into this!"

Am I? Look I know this wouldn't be much of a big deal too but that is a subtle tactic the writers threw in to get the cogs turning for Jillison. Jason is clearly uninterested and even implied to dislike her. Jillian bemoans this but Connie reassures her that that's not the case. But hey at least she called him cute so OF COURSE she's going to end up being his love interest!

To me removing a character's core trait to justify a romance means you do NOT know how to actually write a compelling romance. It's trite, it's forced and painful to listen to.

It's also obvious she's a replacement for Bernard, given they have similar personalities and her brief stint on TV (which she also failed at lol). But whereas Bernard was actually endearing, Jillian seems more of a cliche womanchild with zero self awareness and tact. No actual depth, just a personality that is incredibly dumbed down and even insulting. Seriously they made her the dumb blond stereotype in an era where we should've moved on from that! 🤦

Did I mention she goes to church?

Yep she's gonna be one of those Christians.

Literally Loveless, Literally!

Oddly enough the narrative frames this as a rivals to lovers thing, where Jason is both the charismatic friendly guy and the super uninterested Straight Man. The constant twisting the turning makes him go OOC. See we know he's fit better as the former because that goes in line with his canon personality. But when they make him the latter he just comes off as unnecessarily mean. This is turns frames Jillian as someone we should pity: "Oh the attractive male doesn't like me because I went into his office without permission!!"

Wouldn't it make more sense for Jillian to be the one uninterested in a romance since her focus in to find a job/better purpose and romance might distract her? That would make a fun subplot...IF SHE WASN'T OBNOXIOUS!

A pattern I noticed and several fans pointed out: Jason's previous love interests were consistent in that they were strong minded women who challenged him in different ways. Their personalities bounced off creating a fun dynamic that was entertaining to see. Even though they didn't end up with him, you can still see and hear and feel their chemistry which is my goal for Jason x OC. Tasha doesn't make Jason OOC & they had a bittersweet arc, so their interactions were organic. Monica only made him OOC because she was a villain actively manipulating him. So again that worked in terms of story and led to Monica's redemption if my memory serves.

However, Jillian's dynamic is not that fun to listen to. You can feel her annoying Jason through the airwaves. She's strong but only in the sense of feeling something hard underneath your back laying on the bed and realizing that's just your earbud. She's vibrant yes but what else? She doesn't have any unique traits to contrast Jason, and any attempt at a contrast would mean making him act out of character. Adding her bumbling clumsiness and annoying voice, Jason would get tired of her very quickly. He's the type to go for people to have intelligent conversations with, not make him lose braincells. She could very well bring out the worse in him, it'll be an unhealthy relationship.

Here's a tidbit worth mentioning: the VA for Jillian actually auditioned with Jason's VA Townsend Coleman. Now that is big ass red flag right there! No hate towards the actress, just throwing that out there. There's also a facebook page dedicated to Jillison. Typical FB stupidity ramped up to eleven, or AIO fans who see something in Jillian; or at least THINk they see something worthwhile in her.

It doesn't help the writers keep insisting that these two go well together. The audience knows they do not work well as a pair but the narrative keeps insisting they are anyways. I recall an episode that had them pretend to be married while undercover and it was bad. Like REALLY humiliating to see Jason put in that position. He also told her to shut up much to my joy because she could NOT stop being irritating for five minutes. Alas the show still tries to justify Jillian being the Perfect Woman for Jason when she's anything but. And not even endearingly imperfect.

Follow Up

These tags I wrote on one of the AIO posts describes how I feel about Villain Marshall and the Jillison coupling as a whole. It just wouldn't work because Jason needs someone that can actually CHALLENGE him, have their own personality that can bounce off his (without being forced), and most importantly DOESN'T AGGRAVATE THE FANDOM!!

I have not met a single person anywhere that say they like Jillian. It's a different story apparently on the Club App - they like her for reasons I'm too cowardly to find out. But no, she sucks as a character. She makes a annoying friend, and is not a good addition to the show, much less a good love interest.

The only good thing she brought us are the nicknames we gave her 😌

That's all for now thank you for tuning into the Odyssey Mystery Hour. Next week I'll be talking a bit more about my OC Vanessa and her role in the world of Odyssey! Goodbye and make sure to lock your doors to prevent Jillian from coming in!!

[ebenenoir]

The “indigenous person” (ID) has several accounts. They have never posted or discussed anything about indigenous people on their own account, yet are asking P and SM to post about if? ID has referred to themselves as Irish more anything anything else and even some of their profiles don’t even list “indigenous.”

Secondly, the ID is a screenwriter/graphic producer/costumer. They post about winning awards and such. (And the. They complain about SM is self promoting?) anyway, the ID is in film. They’ve written screenplay. They live in LA. They have been harassing Pedro about “working with him.” Then the ID went after SM in order to get to Pedro. This all came from someone who is very close to Pedro and watches social media for him. Another connection I have, has suggested that this ID person is the one who began physically stalking him during the lockdown, but couldn’t figure who they were. The connection was made today, which is why they were blocked. All you have to do is google search the ID’s name and there’s several red flags out there. It’s very easy to find all three of their Instagram accounts and see that they haven’t posted anything about indigenous people in anyway. Which has many fans questioning the validity of the IDs accusations of “calmly commenting” and getting blocked. Since the gossip blogs ran with the ID’s story, the ID person kept feeding you all lies. You should be looking into these claiming before falsely accusing Pedro of wrongdoing. You have no idea how limited and private he has to be because of people like this. The exact reason why he’s not posting on social media anymore. He’s protecting himself and his loved ones. Help protect him instead of spreading lies someone fed you. Do a little research first before posting. He has several stalkers physically tracking and even watching him. In some ways, he’s scared. So please try to protect him better from people like this.

Let's start from the beginning. As I said yesterday, the anon has always been very open about their life with me. From the first day they expressed theif disagreement with SM, they told me straight out that they were a White passing Indigenious. I don't remember them mentioning Irish because we talk about a lot of things. This morning I tried to reread our very long conversations and thdy mentioned a trip to Ireland. Knowing that I know a little bit more about her family, you're not even close to knowing about their origins but never mind. I'd like to know what makes you think they talk more about being Irish than Indigenous? According to them, they talk about both in their interviews?

Besides, even if they're pale or whatever, they're still Indigenious. So they're allowed to criticize any writer who write about their community. You completely missed the point. They never asked Pedro anything. Since SM talks about indigenous and uses them for his writing inspiration, the fan asked to him amplify indigenous voices by giving them a tribute, sharing useful links so people can learn and stop posting real tragic events with captions of his book and book editor like he did lately. I know about the anon's job because they told me everything by explaining what they and , mentioning their collaborators. They actually showed me an email the day they were announced a finalist for a film competition. That was weeks ago I googled their name anyway, they have multiple pages with their name, interviews and even an imdb page. Is it naive of me to think it would be very stupid of them to stalk and harass Pedro with their professional name? I would like to know what evidence you have that lead to them harassing Pedro to work with him? I read an interview where they mentioned that she would like to write for several series including The Mandalorian. Is that what you're referring to? I am genuinely asking. I take accusations of stalking very seriously. I hope you realize that these are serious accusations because the act is immoral and illegal.  I have no problem admitting when I'm wrong. I don't know if you are the same person or 3 different Anons. Last night I asked for proof but nothing was given to me. Now I ask you again to bring me proof by dm, anon, submit m. I remain open to discussion. If you want to remain anonymous, I will keep it anonymous for you. I will say this though. The anon didn't live in LA during the lockdown. They have lived elsewhere in California with their family. This was reported by in an interview available on Google'. Anyway , they have already showed me a picture of a dinner with their family a few weeks ago.

There is big difference between sharing suspicious about the Pedro blocking the anon on ig and accusing them of stalking and harrasing him. That's why I am asking for proofs. Until we get an answer from those anons, I suggest we close the subject.

[chasingthepoguelife]

Lonely Boys Do Stupid Things Part 2

Lonely boys do stupid things Part 2

 (gif credits to @rafecameron​)

  Summary: Rafe is tired of an already boring summer, constantly being judged by everyone on the island, and is looking for a challenge. When the group is introduced to the new girl hanging out with Kiara, Topper suggests a challenge and Rafe accepts only to be conflicted along the way.

  Author’s: So in this world Rafe is still a bad guy, just not a “I killed a cop and have all these daddy issues” bad, Topper hasn’t developed yet, and also John B hasn’t dragged anyone into his stupid shit and there is a civil ground between kooks and pogues and Ward isn’t a “I love two out my three children and murdered my friend” dad. For reference, I do not support Rafe’s canon character. I’m just blinded by the attraction I feel for him and I love Drew, but will never condone or excuse Rafe’s actions. Also, I’m not writing y/n with many descriptions. I know all types of people might read this and I want to make everyone feel included but I also don’t want to do it the wrong way so I’m leaving a lot of physical features up to the reader’s imagination. I would also accept tips and constructive criticism to be more of an inclusive writer.

 Warning: For part 2 I don’t think there is anything, just a mention of underwear and little yelling from Rafe.

 For reference, Rafe is 19, y/n just turned 18 and she’s figuring out her college plans for the upcoming year.

Tag List: @nxsmss​ @prejudic3​ @spencereidbasis​ @alexandracheers​ @ifilwtmfc​ @billybonesxx​

 “So you’re telling me out of all those guys I met today, you don’t have a thing for a single one of them?” y/n asked.

“Dating here is complicated y/n,” Kie began. “Everyone is so focused on money and status, it’s hard to find anyone real. I used to think John B and I would end up together, but that ended sooner than it began. I kissed Topper one time in the ninth grade, and it was like what I imagine kissing your cousin is like.”

“And what about Rafe?” y/n questioned.

“y/n, no. I know that tone. He may look perfect on the outside, and he may seem like he could give a girl everything she wants but there’s a whole lot of issues and drama that he comes with. Ask around. There’s not 1 girl here he hasn’t screwed over or put in danger. The boy only has feelings and compassion for himself.”

“I always believe that people can change, but if it’s coming from you, I believe that you’re just looking out for me Kie.”

“I promise when you ease more into the island, I have two other guy friends that not only look as good as Rafe, but they won’t drag you down with all their problems.”

“Alright Kie, if I’m not making out with someone soon, it’s really on you if I go looking for Rafe.” Y/n teased.

2 Days Later

“How much you want to bet Kiara already bashed you in front of y/n?” Topper asked.

“She can talk all the shit she wants. I saw the way y/n was staring at me. Guarantee she will be dreaming about me tonight,” Rafe smirked.

“But do you think you’ll even get the chance to talk to her? There’s no way Kie is going to let this happen.”

“Kie can’t be with her 24/7. Lucky for me their houses are 20 minutes apart, and thanks to good old dad and his real estate connections, I already know where she lives.”

“Where are you going man?”

“To put her address in my gps,” Rafe yelled running away.

The ride to the Marigold neighborhood felt like a lifetime to Rafe. He had only ever been here one time as a kid, and even that was a distant memory. It didn’t seem much different than figure eight, except for the fact that he couldn’t even fit his driveway onto some of these properties. To his surprise when the gps said he arrived, he was in front of the last house on the street, probably the largest house he’d seen in the entire neighborhood. One might say that he was a little impressed, but back to being small minded after questioning if all 3 cars in the driveway belong to the family. Rafe parked his car in front of the house, locking it once he got out. Within seconds, he was at y/n’s front door, noting how short the walk is in comparison to his own home. He knocked on the door, waiting for what seemed like forever until the door opened. An older woman resembling y/n answered the door.

“Can I help you son?”

“I’m looking for y/n, did I come to right house?” Rafe asked for effect, knowing very well he was at the right house.

“I wasn’t aware my y/n had made so many friends here already. She should be around somewhere in between all these boxes. Y/n!, please come downstairs,” her mother yelled.

Rafe waited in an awkward silence until he heard foot steps coming down. To say he was looking at a different person was understatement, and had y/n known someone like Rafe was in her living room, well she would be coming down with more than a tshirt and underwear.

Y/n stood there, arms crossed, glaring at her mother. “Really? Couldn’t have bothered to mention that someone else was here?” y/n said grabbing a convenient pair of her dad’s sweatpants on the nearest carboard box.

“In all honesty I didn’t think you’d be putting on a show,” her mother joked.

“What are you doing here Rafe, how did you even know which house we bought?” y/n asked.

“I’m sure Kiara told you, but I have a lot of resources available to me,” Rafe smirked.

“Doesn’t make it any less weird, I’ve met you two days ago.”

“Y/N! Don’t be rude,” her mother said slapping her arm. “You’ve already made one more friend than I have.”

“May I use your restroom?” Rafe asked.

As y/n refused to moved, her mother came back momentarily from showing Rafe where to go.

“10/10 daughter,’ y/n’s mom spoke like she was talking to her best friend.

“Just because he has a nice face and body doesn’t make him a 10 mom, besides, I’ve heard some bad things about him, especially from Kiara,” y/n shared.

Rafe couldn’t help but hear everything from the bathroom. He had needed a moment to cool down after already seeing her half naked after two days, but chose to stay extra to hear more compliments about himself. Topper could’ve at least made this harder by picking a girl he wasn’t physically attracted to.

“Kiara is a lovely girl, but she’s just one person. Sometimes you need to give people the benefit of the doubt “ y/n’s mom said.

Rafe was relieved how much y/n’s mom was on his side, at this point he’d even date her mom just to add some difficulty to this challenge. He was about to join them again in the living room when he heard a louder noise come from the back of the house. A few seconds later, a louder, deeper voice began calling for y/n and her mother.

“Lovely to see two more Marigold residents in these parts,” the older man said.

“Ugh it doesn’t matter where we go you two are such dorks!”

“You should be so luck to find someone half as good as your father young lady.”

Rafe couldn’t help but barf. Relationships make him sick as he’s never a real one in his life, nor did he ever have a good example of one. The only one he could ever consider is the nauseating relationship between his sister and John B. He decided  was going to wait for her father to leave the room. He could not handle anymore jokes.

As her mom left the room to her and her dad, y/n had a feeling a hard conversation was coming.

“How about an update on school kiddo?”

“There’s not much to tell dad, I’m still figuring things out,” y/n shrugged.

“Well maybe had you taken 7 APs instead of 4, you would’ve impressed the schools more.”

4 Aps Rafe thought? He could barley get through 1 and this guy was complaining about not taking 7?

“What does it matter dad, I got A’s in all classes. That’s 4 GPA boosters and 4 college credits. Between that a year off to save, I won’t be needing much from you and mom, you know, after all you’ve done for me,” y/n explained.

“After 18 I didn’t see my father and mother for 5 years until I got a stable job. I didn’t go back to them until I could stand on my own two feet without needing anything from them.”

“The world is different now, and you’re acting like I’m never going to do anything on my own.”

“Well you know kid; you have to rustle up something good by next year or we’re going to have to teach you the hard way. Anyways, you know what you have to do. Tell your mother I’m headed down to the Wreck for some work things. See you later pumpkin.”

Rafe thought his dad was messed up, how could this guy insult and support his kid with every other sentence? He waited until it seemed like it was just y/n out there before coming back.

“Finally, I thought you fell in the toilet or something?” y/n joked, but Rafe could tell she was half joking, half compensating for her father putting her down, something Rafe knows all too well.

“I don’t need to explain to you my bathroom habits,” Rafe joked,

“No, but what you need to explain to me is why after two days you think it’s ok to just show up uninvited, without getting the address from me?”

“So you’re saying there’s a problem?” Rafe teased.

“Let’s see, I met you two days ago, you show up unannounced, intruding, and I know nothing about you except for all the bad things-“ y/n shut her mouth once she realized what she was saying.

“Go on, finish what you were saying. All the bad things…. that Kiara told you? Rafe questioned.

“Well what am I supposed to think, you’re not off to the best start. And I’m supposed to believe that after spending like 5 minutes with me, you just have to get to know me, or let me guess, you can’t stop thinking about me?” y/n said sarcastically.

“You haven’t even given me a chance yet,” Rafe stated.

“Rafe, we both know you’re cute, but I can’t take this on right now. I had hoped to meet someone after moving here, but this is already screaming red flag to me. You should just go.”

“You should know, that just because you’re not a pogue, doesn’t mean you’re worth anything on this island!” Rafe spat before storming out the front door.

Rafe made his way back to the car, in disbelief that he didn’t get anywhere with y/n. Kiara must have told her countless stories to turn her off. Not that there weren’t enough known incidences about Rafe, but everyone deserves another chance.  Considering Rafe believes he was sculpted by the gods and can’t remember the last time he’s ever been rejected; he’s still confused as to why he couldn’t make it work on y/n.

After Rafe left to head back to Figure Eight, y/n went on her own drive to Kie’s house, letting her know she’d be there soon. When she arrived, Kie was on the steps of her house, watching y/n’s face.

“It’s only been 2 days, what have you done now?” Kie questioned.

“This island is like a lifetime movie! I met the guy two days ago and he just shows up to my house in his fancy car sweet talking my mother!!”

“Rafe? What that makes no sense? We would’ve heard something by now if he was interested in you. That’s how he likes to move,” Kie noted.

“Apparently not, he just blitzed me, and caught in my underwear I may add.”

“So then what happened?”

“Don’t get me wrong I thought about. He seems perfect and really hot, as you know. But I keep replaying everything you told me about him, and that’s not something to ignore. He said you were lying about it all and that I should find out for myself. But my gut told me to not go down that road.”

“He’ll get over it y/n, even more so when he sees you on the arm of my friend JJ.”

“Kie you are not already trying to set me up with another outer banks man!”

“Did you not say you were looking to make out with someone soon?” Kie teased.

“Well after Rafe insulted me for not giving him a choice, I might need to reconsider.”

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Huwumi betting kiss in a bar?

I had way more fun writing this than I should have! Flirty Fuyumi is something I’ll have to indulge in more often! 

Gonna say this is rated T/ PG 13 so behave yourselves!

Also, Minor Trigger Warning: Aggressive Swearing, References to Sexual Content (Non-Explicit), Cheating (Don’t worry; neither Hawks nor Fuyumi are involved in this one!), Of Age Binge Drinking

Every time Misa had a rough break up, Fuyumi knew that their whole group was going to end up spending a night in a bar making questionable life choices. For as much as she loved Misa, the girl did not handle her heartaches well. Fuyumi was willing to wager that it was most likely because Misa wasn’t exactly the best judge of character. Many a time, she ended up letting partners slip into her life without focusing on the glaring red flags. She’d fuss and accuse and scream at everyone else in the group that they were being unfair, that her newest sweetheart had just been mistreated and needed love to guide them back on to the proper path. Every single time, the rest of them would agree that this was the last time they were going to deal with this from Misa. If she couldn’t be bothered to listen to their concerns and cool her heels just a little, then why should they constantly dab her eyes and pat her back when her ignorance got her hurt?

Because everyone has their weak moments, just like Misa, Fuyumi thought wistfully. She sipped at the sparkling water in her hand while Taigen slipped into their booth. “Well if it isn’t my most favorite people in the world,” he said with a tired huff, slumping down beside her.

“Hey, Tai,” Akiko, sitting to Misa’s left and rubbing her back, said with a quick wave of her other hand.

“Howdy hey Tai-Kins,” Nagisa sang, her tone only the slightest bit less chipper than usual. She was on Misa’s right, gently patting her head.

Misa herself had thrown her whole upper body against the table, hiding her face in her arms, and was wailing shamelessly. A part of Fuyumi was almost jealous at how unbridled her friend was in her grief. There had only been one or two instances in her own life where she’d ever dared to make such a spectacle of herself over anything. And she learned quite quickly to never do it again.

“So what was it this time?” Taigen asked, leaning over to flag down one of the servers, and then leaning back in his seat. “What caliber of douchebag are we labeling this guy as?”

Misa let out a particularly loud, hysterical wail at the prodding, making the other’s at the table wince. Fuyumi motioned Taigen closer to whisper, “Misa-Chan caught him and Akane-Chan touching each other in places where they really shouldn’t be.” He balked and stared at her, expression jumping between horror, anger and then settling comfortably to mortification. Fuyumi couldn’t blame him, though; she had probably made very similar expressions. And she couldn’t really blame Misa for being particularly upset, either, since she didn’t think she’d feel much better if she caught her significant other getting down and dirty with one of her younger siblings.

“Okay. Wow. That’s… certainly something,” Taigen trailed uneasily.

“That filthy motherfucker!” Misa outright shrieked, causing a few patrons at the bar proper to give them a sideways glance.

“That’s right, get it all out,” Nagisa encouraged quietly.

“They’re all motherfuckers, hun,” Akiko agreed, her own tone taking on a soothing note.

Taigen made quick work of ordering their first round of drinks – excluding Fuyumi, who insisted she really couldn’t tonight – and some appetizers to get started. When the food and drinks arrived, they managed to coax Misa up enough to eat and down her first two drinks, which seemed to put her in higher spirits. They let her vent what she felt comfortable venting and took her lead on when to sidetrack to a new subject.

The distractions were clearly having a good impact on Misa as she moved on to her third, fourth, fifth and sixth drinks.

“You bastards,” Misa slurred with a small hiccup, waving her glass about in a semi-circle to indicate them all, “make it seem so easy to just meet someone! Like I can just pluck any ole’ person off the street and BAM! SOULMATE FOUND!”

“Don’t you already just pick the saddest looking sack o’ flesh outta the gutter? At least if you pick someone off the sidewalk instead they might have their shit more stitched together,” Taigen scoffed, a sly smirking taking over his face as he sipped his own drink. “Well, that or if you just gathered your courage to actually make the first move instead of waiting for these parasites to catch a whiff of your desperation.”

Akiko started to outright cackle while Misa’s face turned a much darker shade that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Fuyumi was quick to set her drink down and lift her hands, ready to step in between any ensuing fight. Nagisa took everyone else being distracted as a chance to stuff another pot sticker in her mouth. “Say that again, you angsty twink!” Misa squeaked angrily.

Taigen’s eyes narrowed, the dark blue tint of them gleaming dangerous. “What did you just call me?”

“Ya heard me!”

“Okay, Misa-Chan, Tai-Chan, how about we settle down and take a breath? We don’t ended things to esca-!”

“Sorry for giving you some practical advice, damn! Maybe if you actually listened you wouldn’t constantly be getting pumped and dumped!”

“Oh, no! Tai-Chan, that is incred-!”

“Well not all of us can hook up with some dimwit from work! Besides, a truly worthy suitor prefers a lady who waits to be chased!”

“Misa, I don-!”

“Masaki is an absolute angel and you fucking know it, you jealous little asshole! And you know what? I’m gonna prove my fucking point that your fucking point is stupid!” he snapped back, slamming a hand on the table. There was a beat of silence before he whirled his head around to face Fuyumi. “Yumi! Go over to the bar and get you a smooch!”

“What?” she squawked indignantly. 

Akiko started giddily giggling into her hand. “Oh, yes, yes! It has to you, Yumi, babe!”

“But why me?” she argued. “I wasn’t even involved in their little wager!”

“But you’re the only one that’s single, aside from Misasasasauce,” Nagisa slurred, swaying a bit in her seat. “You’re the only one that can really prove Taikadaikado’s point.” She shifted the glass in her hand to take another sip but then stared at in horror as she realized it was empty.

“‘Sides, it’s good for ya!” Akiko chimed in, swaying to lean heavily on the table. She looked about to topple over at a moment’s notice.

“There’s no way for me to get out of this, is there?” Fuyumi sighed.

“Nope!” Taigen said, making a popping noise with the word as he shimmied out of his seat. He gestured grandly towards the bar across from them. “Now go, dearest Fuyumi, and find yourself a hottie to mack on! Make me proud!”

“No, make me proud, Fumi!” Misa shot back.

With a resigned sigh, she carefully slipped out of her seat and made her way towards the bar. She loved her friends, but they were ridiculous, honestly. She slid into one of the many empty seats at the bar a few spots away from a cute young woman in a halter dress, but opted against making the pass when she noticed the ring on the woman’s finger. There were mostly just groups there, all settled up together in proper booths. The only other two people that were at the bar proper were all the way at the other end from her and seemed much more focused on some hushed debate they were having. She flagged down the bartender, instead, to request a fresh water and a small bowl of cherries.

“My, what an odd order to place at a bar,” A deep voice chimed from beside her, dripping in amusement. She jumped and glanced at the young man making his way into the stool beside her. He seemed to be about her age with just the right amount of scruff gracing his jawline, baggy clothes that screamed workout attire to her, and a hat tugged down low over his head, hiding most of his hair. What caught her attention most, though, with the blazing gold eyes fixed on her like a predator on prey.

He didn’t strike her as being her usual type, but she kind of liked the way he was watching her. She admittedly did like the ones that seemed confident. Nine times out of ten they weren’t nearly as self-assured as they played at, so it was always cute watching them get flustered when she called a bluff. A smile flitted across her lips as her water and dish were set in front of her. “It’s called the Responsible Friend drink. Not for the faint of heart or low of impulse control,” she purred teasingly, plucking a cherry from the dish.

He hummed quietly beside her as he watched her split the cherry open and drip the cherry juice on top of the ice inside, being careful not to drip too much on herself. “That seems like an insult,” he hummed back.

“If you take offense,” she hummed, stirring the juice in, “that seems more like your problem than mine.”

He seemed taken aback by that, tilting his head at her curiously. “Do you… Not know who I am?”

She cocked her head and gave him a look at that. She tilted her head to try and get a better look at him, letting out a thoughtful hum. Now that she thought about it, there was something familiar about his face, but she couldn’t place it. Perhaps a model or something? Or maybe he’d had a short guest role on one of her television dramas? She shrugged instead and began dripping another cherry into her drink. “Kinda but… Not particularly. Why? Should I?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “Actually, you know what? I like this better,” he mused, leaning one elbow on the counter and cupping his head in his hand. “So, you’re the friend staying sober? Or just keeping your wits so no creeps try to take advantage?”

Fuyumi nodded her head back towards her friends, who had seemingly forgotten their beef and were now aggressively singing some anime opening at each other, just barely keeping their volume manageable. “Those are my wards for the night,” she said.

He snorted. “You sure you don’t want something a little stronger than cherry water? Which, by the way, is still incredibly unusual. I mean, lemon water I expect, or even lime water, but cherry? Not so much,”

“But you’ve never tried it,” she retorted, taking a sip and resisting the urge to sigh contentedly. He made a small noise of agreement as a thought occurred to her, her smile turning mischievous. “I could give you a little taste if you want.”

“Oh?” he mused, perking up. He shifted a bit closer, clearly intending to swipe her glass, but instead she moved closer to him herself. He seemed a bit stunned as she leaned forward to press her lips to his, one of her hands cupping the side of his neck. The spark of surprise left his eyes quickly enough as he melted into the kiss with a throaty groan, instead sliding shut to bask in it. She tilted her head to give a playful nip to his lower lip. Getting the hint, he opened his mouth and allowed her tongue to slip inside, prodding his to press along her own. The taste of spearmint from his mouth mingled with the cherry juice on her tongue, making for an odd but not entirely unpleasant combination.

It was the scandalized squeals of her friends that pushed her to pull away from the stranger, making a show of smirking and licking her lips at him. There was a blush dusting up along his cheeks and, if she was honest, she couldn’t help but think about how good he looked like that. “There, I gave you a little taste. Maybe we’ll see each other again, sometime,” she hummed, grabbing her drink and cherries to head back to her table. She would blame her behavior, uncouth as it was, on the energy her friends had been pumping out all night. Plus, she reminded herself, she was likely never going to see the guy again. Despite what he’d said, she doubted that he was anyone that noteworthy.

Three days later, Fuyumi’s heart leapt into her throat when, grinning up at her from glitzy headlines about Number Three Pro Hero Hawks, was her bar stool beau.

[steve0discusses]

The Full Metal Alchemist Live Action Movie Part 8: Watch This Episode Covered in Butts be the Only One Not Flagged by Tumblr

Gonna be risky business and not only upload all of these caps the way I screenshot them--which has just SO MANY poorly CGI’d butts but also gonna do it on the Tumblr Drafts folder, which I have been assured works now.

I’m so worried about so many things, but considering all the fears I have about like...everything else in the world right now...I guess I’ll take a risk on tumblr.

Edit: I cannot believe that I had 8ish episodes of Kaiba’s tall dueling tower get flagged but not this movie. I just....wow I cannot.

So anyway, last we left off, General Hakuro stepped in and was like “Hi guys, you like my wily plans that no one in their right mind would have ever guessed???”

Yo remember this part of the anime? Where the bodies drop from the ceiling and it’s a hunk out of the final arc--it’s here. In this movie. This movie that can’t possibly afford to do that. Lets get some CGI animated bodies in here ASAP.

(see some texture regrets under the cut)

It’s like a Monet, as the Mean Girls say, because far away and shrinked to 500 pixels this looks kinda neat. They sort of look more like those slime ball that grow in the back of your throat rather than human bodies, but they still look pretty gross hanging up there.

But then.....we zoom in. Remember again that this was full screen on my computer, and at one point was on a freakin movie screen. This level of 3d...was on a movie theater screen.

The mind boggles. The mind boggles!

Like as you know, I am an artist, and I’ve dabbled in...basically everything in my pursuit to make a dollar...and I have taken about 2 years of classes in 3D art with Maya and all those. I’m not thaaat great at it--I’m much more an illustrator/painter--but I feel like I have that reference point. Can I just say--the model is...fine...you can do a lot with layers of bump maps so you don’t need a truly detailed model (not like they did that, because they didn’t do that, but I can figure that maybe they had an intention to do that and forgot?)

But, there’s no connection of the wires to bodies. They just kinda float? The bodies are also all the same shiny-ness? To the point that it looks like a copy paste? (I don’t think it is, the wires are slightly different on a few of them) There’s just not much in the way of a texture map or a bump map. It just...there’s also something missing from the skin.

Skin is actually kind of rough to render, so when I did it back in the day, I followed like a checklist to make sure I had all the layers and steps to make someone look...clammy. Some things are kinda translucent, they reflect light a different way...especially white skin like this wouldn’t be just...white like putty. Dunno if you ever saw a white person, but we got so many veins...there was so much potential to make something really gross and fleshy.

Instead we got silly putty. It’s fine. I’m fine.

So General Hakuro decides to just...kill everyone right now.

This makes no sense to me.

That means that the whole thing of Lust killing Hughes was completely unrelated to General Hakuro. All Hakuro needed was Shou Tucker, who has been in prison for...I assume months since Ed shipped him off. And Shou was only released today? Just now? Just now when Hughes was shot?

So this all just happened at the same time by accident?

I mean the General sent us to the wrong lab initially, so he didn’t actually want us to be here, and now that we are here, he’s going to set off an entire army as a reaction to three people walking in and going “oops”?

So, lets get a look at our army.

Oh it was so disappointing, this reveal. Not just the eyeball that has a bounce light coming from below the top lip there (how did that even happen???) but also when it opened it’s mouth, it had a flat animation of skin breaking--it wasn’t actually rendered 3d skin, it was like a jpg wrapped around it or something (or at least that was the illusion I got. That is fine for a video game or a TV show, but this is a movie. This is shot so that it can be displayed in a size bigger than your own house.

What happened to the animation team on this one? Not saying I can do better, cuz no, I can’t, that 3d chapter in my life was a while back, but I’m just one guy. This was an entire animation studio and they just...didn’t render 3d face ripping (which is their entire job, to work in 3d) and then they kinda just turned on the stock physics dynamics and dropped em instead of animating them.

The way they fell was like fish from a bucket--the same amount of speed, too. they all ragdolled like a 3D shooter, their rigs just hanging on for dear life (and yes, you could see the deforming happen on the joints of these models.) I’m fine with having a computer program render something out with a physics engine...but there is a balance.

You do have to still go in there and finangle it back because...real life is hella stupid. Real physics? So stupid. It was hilarious how nonthreatening it was, too because they’re like...the size of shrimps in that zoom out image. The scale is just so wild!

It was like one bored guy in a sound booth and they multiplied his voice three times. Golden. Absolutely golden.

So these guys stride over, all of them with the same amount of speed (leading me to think it was probably a recorded walk cycle they all share with slight alterations between all of em) and they kinda just...pile on eachother in a weird way.

I will give them this: I was happy to see something that wasn’t physics or procedural. They mo-capped and animated that part for sure. It had the touch of an artist’s hand. It was also a very funny way for Hakuro to die because this guy was on screen for like 5 minutes, and maybe 7 minutes of this whole movie.

Youknow...I think it really says a lot about your nude 3d models if they’re not disturbingly human enough to trigger the tumblr filter, youknow?

Anyway, Envy looks on.

And then Gluttony saves the city.

Meanwhile, they decide to bust out the fire effects and Mustang becomes the most useful person in this entire movie. Like honestly this movie was poorly named, because it should have just been “Mustang saves the FullMetal Alchemist’s Entire Ass.”

The next part seems like I forgot a cap, or maybe missed something. I swear to you, I did not.

First off, Al becomes fullmetal and makes this happen without an alchemy circle. The show doesn’t really care to talk about that though, it’s just a thing he can do now, and you’d only notice it if you were writing a Tumblr post about it.

I swear to you, Winry is just inside of Al and there is no explanation.

There is no explanation for this.

She was on the couch...why is she not on the couch? What?

And then when you think they might have a moment, Ed’s like.

Damn.

For reals what the hell was that entire scene except for a way for Ed to get his arm stitched back on in like 2 minutes?

Outside, Envy and Lust are just strolling around the back-alley of this red brick building we have seen used for this entire movie.

And like...it’s so funny to me because they weren’t trying to run or hide. It makes complete sense why they got shot. This is what happens when you just...walk away when the whole military guard wants to kill you.

Now lets go see how Hawkeye is faring.

Luckily, all of the ambling bodies have decided to walk slowly through this one weird grass section between extremely long buildings.

And Hawkeye tells everyone “You have to shoot their heads off” and I want you to look at that scene and tell me how many of those bodies still have heads.

Oh, all of them. Don’t worry about it.

Kinda hard to see, but Ed shows up to give Mustang a hand, which was fully unnecessary but we’ll get to that in a bit.

This movie is such a gem.

Ed goes big brain and realizes that Envy is still burned up, and thus is about to pass on.

And whatever, I’ll take it. It’s not like the movie has told us that they are made out of 1000000 lives, for all we know, in the movie universe, they really are only 4 lives. Like half a cat. Maybe Father only killed half a cat instead of an entire city.

Yugi Muto would be so freakin proud of Envy for how often this guy gets hit square in the chest with fire balls. It’s basically every scene where Envy and Mustang share screen time.

And don’t worry, I don’t think Envy died? But they sure made it look like he did, which I’m sure everyone everywhere was really happy to see, since Envy’s death was one of the climaxes of the whole series. Like people used to make these lists of “top 10 saddest anime deaths” and how many people had Envy on there? Like everyone? People freakin love Envy and they did him so much dirty in this movie.

Again I have no explanation for Winry.

So Mustang is like, Ed, you make sure Winry doesn’t biff it in that corner, and I’ll do my actual job over here on this side. And yo, he did.

And so then that’s it, Lust is dead, and now we have a Sorcerer’s stone.

Man it looks delicious, right?

I’d eat the hell out of that.

Anyway, we only have one more update and we’re done with this movie!

I know!

I know! They only have 10-15 minutes to resolve pretty much everything, and that’s assuming that the credits don’t take up a heap of that. Hell, I might only have 3 caps next episode if that’s all credits. I honestly don’t remember.

Anyway, hope y’all take it easy this February, here is a link for people who just got here to read these FMA recaps in Chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/fma/chrono

[gertstarlight]

a kiss out of envy or jealousy 😳😳

i’ve gotten too many requests asking for a jealousy kiss so i stayed up til 4:30am to write this!! pls forgive the spelling/grammar cuz i am literally sleeping rn

send me more prompts!!

Loud bustling sound of classical music flowed through the tannenbaum wedding. The warm haze of the sunlight escaped behind the buildings in Blue Valley as the small string lights made their presence known. Sweet smell of foreign roses and tiny cakes breezed past Beth as she stood near the alter. She had always wanted the classic wedding but the heroism put a dent in those plans. The flowers patterned her flowy blue dress as she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Elizabeth Chapel, haven’t seen you in a couple years!”

Beth turns to see who it belongs to and immediately recognizes her childhood friend, Dean Harrison.

“Well yeah cuz you moved away to Germany after fifth grade,” her voice bold as ever, “how have you been, Dean?”

“Good actually yanno I’ve had time to adjust after what like 5 years but enough about me, are u doing good in Blue Valley and all?” He had the same chipper mannerism as her.

“Of course!! Blue Valley isn’t the same without you but the town has adapted to the absence of your beaming smile,” Beth held her wide smile and started catching up with her old friend.

Quiet footsteps reach where Beth stood and stopped behind her, giving her a soft nudge. She turned mid conversation to see Rick holding the drink she was waiting for. He put them down on the tall ledge beside the altar they were standing beside.

The tall blonde haired stranger spoke to Beth in a suspiciously friendly way. Well, everyone spoke to Beth in the kindest tone but this guy was ticking all the boxes on Rick’s Red Flag Checklist. He said sweet words to her and made her smile, maybe that’s why Rick disliked him.

The stranger responded to Beth’s optimistic remarks, “wow big words coming from the Blue Valley’s brightest smile champion.” Rick watched the two sync up in their amusement.

“There was a competition for the best smile?” Rick let his tone gain some edge as he questioned the other boy.

“Well yeah it was an inside joke Beth and I had when we were practically babies,” Dean said still laughing along with Beth.

That stupid laugh checked another one of Rick’s boxes and he felt the annoyance take over.

Regaining herself from the laughter, she spoke for the first time since Rick showed up, “ we were seven, Dean and it wasn’t even a real competition!”

“Ouch,” Dean says as he fake stabs his fist into his heart, “that really hurts, how could you hurt me like that?” Goddamn his laugh was starting to bug Rick.

“Woooow you were always the dramatic one,” said Beth as she joked around with the foreign friend she once knew.

“Yes that’s because you were always so realistic and needed some fun sarcasm,” he laughed and put a hand on Beth’s shoulder to balance the two of them as they continued to laugh.

Rick felt the heat burning up in his chest, just watching some other guy hold on to Beth the way he always wanted to. When she asked him to come to her aunt’s wedding, he let himself believe it would be the moment they fall for each other. Beth’s platonic wording didn’t stop him from deluding himself. He would go anywhere with Beth as long as he was with Beth.

The slow anger fizzled around in Rick’s mind as he sighed along to the stranger’s colourful words. Rick clearly did not come here for the food or the beautiful ceremony so when the one reason he was here for was flirting with some dude, he was sure as hell upset. Knowing Beth, this was just a casual conversation to her but to that nameless guy, she was probably the sweetest person to exist. Wasn’t she just the sweetest to everyone though?

She snapped him out of his lovelorn looks with a quick introduction. Although, Rick just wanted to act polite and hold a solid conversation, his rage got the best of him. He let a few sarcastic comments slip into the conversation and not-so-patiently waited for this Dan dude to walk away. Realizing how weirdly protective he got over his best friend, he calmed himself by taking a few sips from his drink.

Just couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances and wanting to speak in sweet melodies to the wonderful human sunshine. The love struck emotion is the least familiar to Rick Tyler but the sound of Beth’s voice made him want nothing more than to dance away the night. He shivered at simple thought of her ever returning those feelings that drive him wild. All he wants is to just steal her away from the lights of this romantic lighting and pull her into the steamiest kiss.

“Hey Rick, you ready to go?” Beth’s delicate voice makes him realize he zoned out again.

“Uh yeah sure, let’s get you home,” he muttered, letting his hand slip around her shoulders.

•~•

Needless to say, they do not end up home. They left the dancing strangers and fairy lights of the wedding behind. They walk lazily on to the Blue Valley bridge as Beth tells some silly anecdote with Rick’s suit hugging her shoulders. His hand still lay around her as they both stumble around the little sidewalk on the bridge overlooking the suburbs.

Beth switches the conversation to small talk, “the wedding was actually really sweet and the little flower centrepieces were matching the bride’s dress and it was all so detailed.”

“Uh yeah weddings are great,” Rick’s less than enthusiastic tone threw her off.

“Rick is something bothering you?”

“No I’m just tired from all that dancing.”

She throws him a classic pleading look, which is all it really takes for him to confess his inner monologue.

“Actuality Beth, I have to tell you something,“ he starts, hesitantly.

“You’re not the biggest fan of Dean, I get it he can be quite the optimist”

“Um no that’s not my problem with him”

“Then what it is ?”

Rick struggles to tell her the real reason he wants to practically never see Dean ever again. He settles for a generic answer to stop Beth from questioning him further.

“Forget it Beth, doesn’t matter anyways”

She takes stops walking and let’s him face her. The curiosity was gonna bug her until he was honest with her.

“Wait i don’t wanna forget it if it’s clearly bothering you,” her voice was serious and a little nervous.

“Just drop it Beth,” his voice was just serious.

“Yanno passive aggressiveness can’t be your solution to not talking about your feelings,” she said as she stood on the bridge facing the man she thought would be honest with her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rick said dismissively.

“Rick, I don’t want you to have to keep ur feelings hidden deep inside. At least not around me,” Beth’s kind voice was the only sound he ever wanted to hear.

Rick just looks at her w lovelorn eyes but his lips slip out a different tone, “can we not talk about this anymore I’m sick of telling you how I feel all the time.” The harshness in his words never reflected how he felt about her. He never wanted to taint her perfect brightness with his dark inner horrors.

Eyes twitching and lips pursing, she said, “you know what Rick, I am SICK OF YOU SCREAMING ALL THE TIME!” Beth clearly got the memo and let her anger come out.

“WELL IM SICK OF U THINKING U CAN JUST GET IN MY WAY AND CALM ME DOWN,” Rick’s volume matched hers as he took a step forward.

“WELL IM SICK OF U GETTING SO CLOSE ONLY TO PUSH ME AWAY!” Another step closer than they had been before.

“YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IM SICK OF BETH?” his voice tunes down, mirroring the beat of his heart, “the way you don’t feel the same about me.”

That was it. Every single emotion Rick had ever felt about Beth was just out there, lingering in the air and hanging over his head.

She takes a minute to process the words he just breathed so close to her lips. Cursing their subconscious mirroring of small steps that brought them so close together, Beth looked at him. She couldn’t take the heat of the moment anymore. She needed to release the tension and his angry lips were just so close to hers.

Beth collides their lips together and feels the rage in his words slip away. All the feigned anger led up to what was the most comforting yet frenzied moment. Slowly tracing her hands along the back of his neck, she feels his hands find her hips.

She knew those heated exchange of words didn’t come from a place of anger. Beth just couldn’t sense where they were coming from but did that really matter when her lips left his just so they can both catch up with their heart. She let his forehead gently fall on to hers.

“Rick I didn’t...” slowly murmuring as she trails off with her forehead still on his.

“I hate the way Dave was looking at you and the way you laughed along to his dumb jokes,” he blurts out realizing it was his only chance to let her know.

Beth’s mind was just racing at the same pace as her heart, knowing only his lips could make her feel that way.

“And I know I have no right to tell you who to talk to cuz that’s a dick move,” he just continues to speak as he holds onto her waistline.

Beth sorta just chuckles to herself and moves her head away from his to look at him for the first time since their kiss. The confusion took over his face as she began to explain.

“I’m not laughing at you,” she composes herself and continues, “well maybe i am but more so at the fact that you’re jealous!”

Rick’s eyes bring out that signature saddening anger when he hears her voice speak the words he couldn’t. Reluctantly, he pulls away from her hold on his neck and tries to find the words to explain.

“I just don’t like Dan,” he stutters out an answer.

“I don’t care abt him, also his name his Dean,” she places her hands on his jawline with a reassuring touch.

“I kissed you, Rick,” she lets her eyes emphasize the statement and her head nods slightly as she spoke to let him know she really meant it.

The fall air breezes past them as Rick contemplates her words, he bites the edge of his lips and does what he knew should’ve done a while ago.

Rick closed the space between their lips but a lot more delicately than she had. His hands had already memorized the exact place on her hips she liked them to be after the first kiss.

The way Beth felt their bodies fall into the same rhythm amused her. Letting her hands find their way into his dark wavy hair, she’s make those small twist to keep her balance.

It didn’t take long for them to understand the wild bursts of energy they spewed at each other was just from holding in all the unrequited feelings. If it hadn’t been for her unlikely bravery, he would still be getting lost in her words instead of the sweetness of her lips. So maybe Rick is glad he agreed to Beth’s proposition to go to some cliche storybook wedding as friends. And so it goes, those two are no longer friends.

[cgmayra]

When your tired after a 16hr shift yesterday so you rant about Sonic and explain why aggressive writing vs. neutral writing helps with sharing ideas

Me and my online Sonic friend talking about Belle.  (I’m skipping some dialogue throughout the chat, this was lazily put together lol)

WARNING: It’s long, and it’s a rant. So please note that I’m blatantly aware of how wrong my aggressive, sleep-deprived rant was and that I’m stating “DON’T PRESENT YOUR IDEAS LIKE THIS!” because this is not a healthy nor effective way of sharing ideas.

ALSO, ALL THE MENTIONS OF WHAT I BELIEVE MY FRIEND IS FEELING OR THINKING DURING MY RANT ARE ENTIRELY MY OPINON. If she tells me to delete something or change it I will without hesitation but I find it funny, as I look back, to insert what I think might be going on in her mind XD She might have been oblivious to me but I’ll get her thoughts and change anything if necessary.

It’s also how most trolls and antis and even some ‘not experienced writers’ write their ideas out, and it can be easily avoided by using Neutral Writing Methods. So this is a ‘don’t do this, but try this’ post. Enjoy my badly written, sleepy aggressive rant~<3 (Also, my friend gave me permission to share this lol)

Me: She could be for entertaining little kids. But we already have too many OCs, and they're not 'dying off' any time soon so...I smell a mini-series backup plan...and I don't like what that means for Sonic. And it is cute, sorry, my brain is off the hook right now, I'll keep things to myself cause you may not like what I'm predicting and I'm getting sad thinking about it ;-; so, want to be wrong.

(Friend mentioned “Tinker Bell” spin on name.)

That's precious, but can I get a link to the reference sheet plz? Reference sheets can tell a lot about a chara's functionality if you compare it to the 'needs' of the casts. it can help predict their role. I think she's meant to help but also entertain the kids, maybe planted with a secret. Her goal could be to come back to Mr. Tinker but Eggman abuses that and tricks her into a new robot. I got a weird theory about her but I'll just say that she's probably gonna go a bit dark. But be cute and make the audience go, "Aww, poor thing! She's a cinnamon roll" at first, wonder if they'll equip her with 'happy backstory, tragic ending' kinda thing to switch the usual 'tragic backstory happy ending' but I feel this is a tragic character meant to pull emotion out.

(Friend understands my concerns but mentions there hasn’t been a ‘Bad’ Oc for the comic)

No one sets out to create a 'bad character' especially professional writers like these guys. But what makes a character 'bad' is if you ruin or oversaturate their purposes. If she's a main character that over-shines others with too much story then the audience feels 'betrayed' because they want that screen time for the main casts to express themselves and shine through. That's just an example. When working with IPs like Sonic casts, you HAVE to remember the fanbase is expecting things Do you like my OCs? be honest lol Not from my prompts. There's a specific way to handle a OC that helps the main cast shine and reveals their characters more. AU Ocs help Canon Characters in many ways.

(Friend admits they have not seen my OCs in some of my fanfictions, they’ve only really read my prompts.)

Oh, well, some of my fanfictions have OCs, not Lavinya, she's just a mascot. My Sonic OC that retried XD Sorry, I'm misspelling a lot but I hope you don't mind, my spellcheck sucks and I've given up on it lol Oh, so you don't know Harmony, Ol'Wizzy, and Data?Or the Metal Series? Well, there are specific Ocs that my readers like and they express/compliment the canon characters to where even though they're a main character, they don't intervene with the Main Cast's goals. They actually help. Then everything I'm gonna say won't have much merit so I'll just focus on waiting to see if my predictions for Sonic IDW will come true, but I really hope they don't do what it looks like they strategically might be pulling... I hate SEGA marketing- 

(The beginning of my aggressive rant, please note that I’m not thinking about my image and am writing tired and lazy. This is an example of how NOT to express your opinions in negative ways. It doesn’t influence good at all.)

Their ploys are outdated and frankly, do not work for their IPs market. They target the wrong age group, they have no idea how to organize themselves, and they don't have a leading 'elder' so to speak (just a professional among them) to make good calls. So you have young adults (not super professionals, this might be their first real company job) trying to target internet culture and failing their IPs. They're doing outdated Nintendo tactics that only worked for NINTENDO! Also some other companies that have DIED so why are you copying their marketing strats!? stop! lol

Friend: Did you study marketing because this entire convo kinda flew over my head in terms of understanding (This should have indicated to me that my words were coming off too factual and had too many ‘jargons’ going on. I was losing my ‘reader’ through my rant, but my tired brain would not cease!)

Sonic's trying to morph into something he's not and they're following outdated college course books and it's not gonna help... they're leading Sonic further down and the creators in japan have no power cause all the power is in the stock holders who are stupid money-hungry americans who have lost faith in American SEGA leading SEGA of Japan to move on to other things

Friend: mostly just got you don’t like the marketing (Huge red flag! This means my friend is starting to tune my info out, it’s because I’m presenting my ideas in a slightly aggressive writing style. There are trigger words here that lead an reader to start doubting you. This is why, in most of my answer posts, I make sure to write Neutral writing methods, but I’ll mention that more after my rant lol XP)

It's just bad. Lol I have a Frankenstein degree, (Now I’m justifying myself, which was caused by my aggressive approach. If I simply stated this in a more ‘neutral writing method’ then I wouldn’t have to worry about creditability claims because I’m not trying to sell my idea as the high authority on it.) which means I have knowledge on many different fields. I never took a fully -dedicated- 'marketing class' I took a lot of different communication classes that went to my overall major. One was directly about how you present, sell, and look at marketing tactics. So I have my fingers in many different fields, my major was "Creative Writing for Fiction and Film with an Emphasis in Video Production and a Cluster in Theatre Arts." So I can be on camera, off camera, post and pre production, creative table and actual filming. Does that make sense? (I’m not fully awake to realize what I’m writing, but it’s clear at this point I’m starting to wake up and realize I’m ranting and tossing my ideals of how to present ideas out the window, but let’s watch my follies and learn from them, shall we?) I have theories on what SEGA is going to do, and I have my worries because it's all outdated. It worked for older companies but those companies also targeted a varying audience, which SEGA refuses to see themselves as for a 'teenage audience' which is exactly why they boomed in the 90s. Their target audience is now 20s.

Friend: There are Kids who also like Sonic, even if they don’t play the games though. (Due to my aggressive tactics from not thinking clearly about, not just the what, but the HOW I’m writing, it has turned my friend into a ‘contrasting neutrality’ which is amazing by the way that she did this! She noticed my writing was turning aggressively ranting, and being my friend, didn’t want to be rude about what she was noticing. -I’m guessing lol- so instead, she took the commentary approach, which is to state the good as well. This is a terrible position to put your reader into, and you should make sure to always have good examples and good praise mixed in to contrast any opposing or aggressive statements you ever make. -though you should avoid aggressive writing at all times- Sadly, this does put the reader, in this case my friend, in a very vulnerable position. It leaves them open for attack... but thankfully, she’s a wonderful friend and had trust that I wouldn’t hurt her on her counter-follow-up.)

So instead of using their 40 to 50 year old charts, start with looking at early millennial trends and desires. They tried for 'angst' to 'adultify' Sonic but it busted because we are STICKLERS for animation. Because their story was so scrapped together and had no actual character depth, motivation, or even emotional growth to develop for future game lore, they went for the 'easy made game' (Easy baked oven quote lol that’s just mean XD) We loved the trailer, it was well made, but they threw their animators elsewhere and made the programmers (WHO BLANATLY ADMIT THEY DONT KNOW HOW TO DO STORY/GRAPHICS) and made them do things they aren't trained in. Those micro-head movements and mouths took them A LONG TIME to figure out.

(My friend is now agreeing with me several times through my rant. This is a tactic that is used as ‘avoidance’ but also for ‘appeasement’. She’s probably tuned out by now, but respects what I’m saying but is also incredulous at it as well. It’s fair, I’ve cornered her into my sleepy-time rant, and being the lovable woman that she is, she is simply waiting for me to realize my follies lolol I wish she would have told me but I think she knew I was beyond ‘logical reasoning’ at this point and was just letting me get it all out lolol What a good friend TDT)

Animation can't be learned that fast AND expect them to program a game AT THE SAME TIME. Sonic Forces was a 'split up SEGA' trying to get those who survived and said, "Yeah, I'll stay in this job." to do things that THEY AREN'T EVEN TRAINED IN. you put a game programmer on animation and some other stuff they didn't know what to do with and expect it be a top-notch seller.

Friend: (in more attempts to join in and be a ‘participant’ of the conversation I’m clearly dominating -MY ABSOLUTE BAD- she tried to engage normal conversation flow into the discussion again. At this point, she probably did notice I wasn’t my usual self, and just decided to play along and enjoy the ride lolol I’m just guessing this tho, but it’s a good chance to reflect on what ‘wrongs’ I was doing and what ‘rights’ she was doing during this situation ;)b) My big issue with SEGA is that they rush everything. A lot of things would’ve been better if they had the proper time.

That was resolved actually.

Friend: Oh? It was? (Although this looks like an encouragement, it’s actually just another avoidance tactic to help me ‘get the venting out’ but it’s clear she’s not fully onboard anymore. When you write to discuss, you have to leave room for other’s opinions to shine through as well. Healthy conversation doesn’t mean forcing the other person to comply to you. A lot of this is educated guess based on past research, she knows this, and it’s clear she’s got her own research. Please remember to never shoot someone down when they try to engage you in your conversations. But again, this is the ‘don’t do this’ and me upset at my tired self for not waking up fast enough to contemplate how I was coming across in my wordings. Let’s continue to investigate and dissect the train wreck, shall we?)

That was an issue a few years ago but SEGA is taking their time, it's just that they can't organize themselves and hire the right professionals. They have old tactics, they have rookies that aren't 'Fresh Blood with professionalism' like they need. They don't need an old fart who knows his stuff, they need a new guy who is dedicated and passionate about their company who will remain there, learn them in and out, and knows his stuff SPECIFICALLY for the things SEGA needs. You have to grow that. You have to hire a very talented and young spunky and fresh professional, have him work with you for 10-15 years, and start training others. But SEGA is already recognized as a 'established' company.

(Friend is still agreeing with me, but is aware of my way of presenting it isn’t “As nice as I usually present it” so she starts mentioning the symptoms of Japanese Work Culture. A wonderful, insightful point to mention! But let’s see how I butcher this as well...)

It's not Japan though! (Again, shutting her down. Tsk tsk, sleepy me. Wake up, you lazy bum.) They won't let Japan interfere! They're all really rude to japan actually. The guys in charge, anyway. We all respect the officials, but SEGA of America people just want results. They are just funders, they don't actually work the company.

Friend: So you blame them for everything? (She’s trying to help me see that my writing is coming off as ‘hate’ which is because of my aggressive writing follies I’m doing so bluntly. Let’s please all admire my friend’s patience as she lets me rant and kindly waits for me to realize how bad I’m handling my 16 hr shift from yesterday lolol)

Look, business is really unfair, and I get that, but if I have to rant (I’m starting to wake up more, oh goodie.) I'd say they really need to humble themselves and ask Japan to please take ownership again. They kicked out people due to a money crisis but they need a game that will be 'safe to secure money but get enough excited momentum to help us push on and continue.' which isn't Japan's strategy usually. Japan likes risks, they also like money too. They trust America too much (especially in the beginning) because America is a HUGE consumer. For the world in fact. But I think they sacrificed too much for the company (common in Japan) and trusted America too much in making decisions. The officials are too nice to say that America screwed them over because America wanted full control. Well guess what? They have too much control now and their product is sinking..

Friend:  You’ve got a lot of fire about this topic. (After I completely disregarded reading her follows-ups and continued to rant, my unconditionally kind friend finally threw in the towel, realizing I was no where near my usually ‘present’ self and was probably just flopped back in her chair smiling at my idiocy of not understanding her kind and subtly hints.) Go ahead and rant it out. (BOOM! Obvious right!? I should have corrected myself but at this point, I was writing like wild fire with droopy, waking up eyes and didn’t even read it during my long paragraphs...)

Sonic won't ever fade away due to it's fans, but the company is struggling to figure itself out for YEARS now. I just worry what they plan to do next. But I have a theory that they are really putting the next game in Japan's hands, a lot of activity is happening in SEGA of Japan, and they're spending WAY MORE TIME on the next installment of Modern Sonic (or Classic, still unsure which one it is yet.) I really think they need a remake game to give them profit, then use that profit for their next big installment. But so far, I think they are working on a game BUT corona might have effected production so I'm sure they are working but I'm concerned if Corona helped manage 'time and quality' or is helping to ruin it...That I can't investigate yet :( I just wish for the best (I’M FINALLY WAKING UP FULLY AS I STOP AND REALIZE-) Sorry for my rant! My theory talk showed through and I don't usually like doing that so forgive me. I'm tired and that's why T-T

Friend: It’s cool we all need to rant sometimes. (My friend’s going to make it to Heaven TwT she’s so kind.)

(Then I profusely apologized a billion times cause I realize how badly this all went down. lol)

(But the terror hasn’t ended... she mentioned some youtube videos mentioning other opinions as well. -which I’m usually cautious of cause some of them can be fanon.-)

OHhhh did he mention the arcade crash??? the literal WORST event in SEGA history??? That's literally where they sank the titanic, SEGA has never recovered from selling off their stocks. (I’M BACK AT IT AGAIN. -facepalm-) Shareholders are everything now and it's the biggest loss ever. Also, the problem is that kids don't play the games, (Rereading my follies and wanting to answer but still only just waking up...) but SEGA can't figure out why they like the characters and can't seem to take the FREAKIN' TIME to learn their lore. (Overwhelming the conversation again.) My easy steps: Re-establish Sonic lore CANONLY AND CORRECTLY, Re-gather the Japanese Officials original plans and notes, guides and study art, Re-make some popular games with the most details on Animation, Fluidity of motion graphics, and with modern Technology incorporated into the game. Once that is accomplished, they will have enough money to then- Create a continuity. Only with a flowing story and relevant past lore can they start moving forward. Animation will target their audience, Story and character re-established arcs will bring nostalgia and new blood to the field of their games, and then Japan's influences will keep it authentic for the continuities so we don't have fandom mixing with canon NEARLY AS BADLY as before anymore. Ugh, it does matter their sales, but I literally bought a book on the history of SEGA, and read a really compelling history article about more then just the Console Wars... I know SEGA has survived literally the edge of extinction on multiple fronts, but someone needs to take charge of their Sonic branch, and it's... it's just too outdated. kk, sorry for the rant.

Friend: (After being multiple times ignored, even after my brief moment of clarity, is still an angel. Frustrated, maybe, but an angel.) And your steps sound really good. Also mostly just listen to his vids if you ever do. It’s ok we all need to rant. (THE WORLD DOESN’T DESERVE THIS GURL T-T)

I'm tired so my 'angry' is showing and it's not professional XD do you mind if I post my rant? lol Actually, no. (Realize how awfully I delivered my ideas, this is where I begin to see my errors and where the clarity comes into play. -we all have our off days lol- )

Friend: Go for it

I want to but it's too aggressive. I'm too lazy to rewrite it out so I'll just save that for another day XD You got a rare treat

Friend: (This is actually interesting and fascinating to her. But she realized then that I finally did see my error.) Concerned you’ll get aggressive responses back?

Honest opinion is sometimes too blunt and I need to be careful about that

Friend: I mean it’s always good to try and get most of the anger out so you seem more professional (Saint. Literally. A saint. She’s puts up with too much of my crap XD)

That, and also the war of 'But this is Cutegirlmayra? She's so sweet and constantly puts her answers in supportive, positive lights so that if SEGA were to see it, they would feel empowered to try it instead of threatened and throw it off as hate or something unprofessional.' I have an image too. I can't post something super aggressive or I'll lose trust. You're right.

Friend: I’m glad you put a lot of thought into everything you post

I apologize for it tho T-T I didn't mean to dominate with such opinions...lol I worry who I influence, you know?

Friend: Most people don’t and trust me they get into trouble cause of it. And yeah.

I don't want to create trolls or heated arguments. I want to teach people they can safely express an idea without using such awful communication. Exactly, it's professional fanism. lol Positive writing is what companies and their employees actually read. (I’m almost fully awake now lol, realizing my blunder and starting to explain why I was in the wrong. Good on me, pat on the back, admitting I was coming off as aggressive is the first step to changing and getting better lolol Also, I’m including her more, and I’m saying “You’re right.” and she’s going “And yeah.” which is a indicator that the conversation is slowly returning to an enjoyable and healthy one. ;w; happy endings lol)  That's why I skip the aggressive stuff, even if it's passive, I write in a neutral setting so everyone feels safe to read, even someone who works at SEGA.

Friend: (Mentions some nintendo youtuber rant and also news as well, then says-) It was honestly very professional sounding and not rude. (MY HEART, YOU KNEW THAT WAS AN AGGRESSIVE RANT lololol So nice to me TDT)

Lol you had to have seen how slightly aggressive it was tho. (I’M CALLING YOUR BLUFF, BESTIE lol) You literally asked, "You blame America for it?" which is not always true but semi-true. They were way too prideful (Aggressive word) and haughty (Still aggressive terminology) about their success in other Japanese products that they wanted to completely change Sonic to their own wishes, pushing out Japan's creative "licenses" (I use this word loosely, and this gives a slightly aggressive feel but is also more dumbed down so it's more 'passionate' than just aggressive)

Friend: Yeah I saw it was slightly aggressive (Either is starting to realize it or at last admitting it now that I am fully aware of how I was coming across. I also used indicators to show what words were aggressive to help illustrate my point. This is showing I’m much more awake now :)b)

Gotta use those neutral tactics or no one will feel comfortable just reading your idea and instead, will constantly look for a place to intercept with aggression back, whether they agree or not, they're looking for ways to self-insert their aggression if you are also aggressive. I can't write something that doesn't somewhat support and uplift SEGA of America. Why? Because like I said, they literally have survived EVERYTHING and have stuck around. Without them, there wouldn't be an American branch and the money issue would have ended SEGA. Some might say, "But they've done so much harm than good! Why is the money thing such a thing to be praised for?" But it's huge, it's so big, it kinda does offset the wrongs. (Now I’m doing the healthy thing, doubling back and mentioning the good to try and recover. The damage may be done, but she did recommend some videos for me and was polite, so I’m just trying to smooth things over and leave on a ‘wrapped up’ conclusion. But... I should have just left it there in all honesty xD Some things you can’t double-back and correct lol) America is a great business-influenced mindset. None of us would be fans of Sonic without them.

(Friend continues to agree but realizes I may slip into ranting again. She just asks if I can watch the videos.)

America does have it's advantages in some fields and areas, but their biggest most redeeming quality is that they saved SEGA which gave us our biggest love and obsession: Sonic. Now, my usage in that writing was still off neutral, but combined with the slightly aggressive statements, made a GREAT contrast. It's still slightly praising

Friend: And they stopped Japan from giving him a human girlfriend right away.

Me: Exactly.

Friend: I will always thank them for that. (She’s still a sweetheart, working herself into the conversation so it stays healthy. lol Such amazing follow-ups too!)

So although I don't like what's happening, I'm also grateful... to a degree lol We need SEGA of America, which is why I think Japan just ignores them now lolol they know they owe them a lot. 

(Friend mentions videos and as I go to save them to my ‘watch later’ sees that one of them is about Nintendo.)

Yeeeahhh I've noticed that Nintendo is starting to trail into 'cash grab' tactics and that's sickening (MORE AGGRESSIVE WORDING??? HAVE YOU NOT LEARNED YOUR LESSON CHILD?! It takes time to fully wake up lolol) cause before, I literally thought, "Nintendo can do no wrong" their marketing was ON POINT! but the stuff they said about Peach and now... I think new, unprofessional blood (like SEGA) has entered Nintendo and the older guys are either 'training' or 'retired to other ventures'. Nintendo is having it's own 'we used to not be prideful but now we're getting a little too pompous (Another aggressive wording... This can easily trigger people to comment with further aggression either against you or for you, but no aggression is the ideal. Which is continuing to show my lack of remaining conscious lol) about ourselves' and they're starting to act like Disney before their big crash. Disney also had 'limited time offers' with their VHS movies. Now, Nintendo is doing that. They'll make money, but at what cost? When you lose your costumer's trust...

Friend: And yeah the 35th Mario thing immediately reminded me of the Disney vault

Me: Yep. I'm worried for Nintendo. Don't get me wrong! Disney is really good with money grabs, but they... they also act high and mighty (More aggressive statements, wake up, darn it!!!) and their fanbase literally calls them 'an empire' so the fan-trust is gone. That makes you 'lame/outdated' and fans begin to look for 'what's cool?' instead.

(Friend is now re-realizing I’m ‘in and out’ so is trying to use a effective avoidance tactic by asking about different things to help my ranting fully stop.)

Sorry, I'm tired, I get on these rants and I don't mean too. (Trying to shake myself awake again.) I'm sorry.

So we returned to a healthy conversation, but I hope this interesting insight has revealed how to and what not to do about Aggressive Writing. Always stick to Neutral writing if you can, putting in a compelling counter-argument. In this aggressive writing demo, you saw that I tried to cover up my follies by saying counter-praise, but praise writing can be just as bad as aggressive writing. Passive writing can sometimes be annoying (aggressive word choice) too if you come off as disinterested or uncaring, which can still result in negative comments coming at you, or someone overly praising in their writings.

This has been all I’m showing you cause it’s kinda embarrassing ^^; but I hope it helps you in what ‘not to do’ while writing your ideas out :)b

Learn from my sleepy-time mistakes! lol

[thenightling]

Opinion on the rioters who dressed as The Punisher

Opinion on the Rioters dressed as The Punisher:

I recently found out some of the Capitol rioters were dressed as The Punisher from Marvel comics.  Do I blame the character?  No.   However, i have become very cautious in regard to hardcore fans of the character and not merely over this.

First, I admit, I never really liked The Punisher as a character.   I thought of him as an edgy byproduct of comics gradually shifting to being darker and grittier.  He was one of the first heroes to not preach about justice and redemption but instead wanted to kill.  He was not a protagonist.  He started as a villain in the Amazing Spider-Man comics.  Stan Lee had not liked the character. (This is a fact that is easily checked and Googled).

In the late 80s and early 90s he became very popular as comics became darker and so he was given his own comic and appeared more often and often as a protagonist anti-hero.

I never liked the concept of him.  Sure, he had a sympathetic backstory but the “Killing is the only answer” never sat right for me.  The lack of mercy he showed even to the repentant, it always bothered me.  I got that he was supposed to be mentally-ill but in his own comics his behavior was, far too often, justified.

Other media tried to mimic the character.  The Ben Affleck Daredevil behaved more like The Punisher than Daredevil.  Instead of a defense attorney he was now a prosecutor.  And if he lost a case he would hunt down the criminal and kill him, brutally.   There’s one scene where he severs a man’s spine and then gloats as a train comes to hit him, as he lays paralyzed on the track. That’s not Matt.

Ben Affleck again played totally-not-Punisher in his portrayal of Batman.  A gun-using batman that was loosely inspired by Frank Miller.  And all the Zack Snyder Fanboys came crawling out of the woodwork, insisting that this was “realistic” and “more accurate to the comics” and “but look, he killed in these old comics!”   They either were lying by omission or didn’t know about Crisis on Infinite Earths and how main continuity Batman had been anti-gun and anti-killing since at least 1985.  The entire plot of Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke was based on this established lore. 

There’s no doubt Punisher has had a serious influence on popculture and something I called Darkity, dark, dark writing or as others have named it: “Edgelord.” 

It’s a sort of “dark and gritty” “realism” popular among boys between the ages of eleven and fifteen who genuinely think crime would end if we shot every criminal and don’t realize that most real world police officers have never drawn their gun, despite what you might see in the news.  If murder truly was the norm, people wouldn’t still be horrified by it.

Now on to the fans.   There are far too many Punisher fans who think he was and is in the right.  They think he is an aspirational figure to admire and look up to.  A “realistic” hero by Zack Snyder standards, because hope and mercy are what is apparently unrealistic in a world consisting of aliens, Greek Gods, witchcraft, and even the folkloric Sandman (That’s in DC, not Marvel though Nightmare is arguably the Marvel equivalent).

I used to be Facebook friends with a Punisher fan.   He was equally obsessed with The Joker.  At first i just let it be.  You’re allowed to like edgy or dark characters.  There’s no harm in that.  But... he got creepy.   He would quote the Joker in conversation about “SJWs” and “progressives.”   He would say things like “My eyes were opened as yours soon will be.”   

He was convinced liberals tried to ruin The Joker movie and posted pictures of the Joker dancing down the stairs with “HAHAHAHAHA!  Suck my dick, Progressives!” in at least two of the facebook groups I run.  It got embarrassing that when people would search for my Horror Comics group, the sample post Facebook gave was that one.  

He kept talking about how both The Punisher and The Joker are right.  His facebook picture would alternate between the two characters depending on his mood.  He would post memes “explaining” why The Punisher is right.

He would post articles about this or that criminal being arrested and refer to them as “it” and “thing” and how “it should be tortured four hours before someone kills it.”   things like that, about various people who did things that were (admittedly) horrific and reprehensible but he would go into graphic detail about what he wanted to do with them   Very sadistic, Saw-like tortures before “Mercifully” killing them.  

He once casually told me how he wanted to kill all progressives.  I gently reminded him that I have liberal leanings and I got a “You’re different” sort of response.  

As his behavior got more fanatical and disturbing, the more uncomfortable I became.   After the progressives threat I made the mistake of telling someone who was mutually friends with us both that I felt threatened.  Needless to say the one I have just described to you called me a liar, insisted he never said anything threatening.  And accused me of being “one of them.”

I told him he had been acting increasingly strangely and needed to stop posting the pro-Joker stuff.  And it wasn’t just the film The Joker.  It was the version from Gotham (TV series) he tried to emulate and praised.  A woman celebrity he didn’t like was soon being called “It.”  Then some feminist (I didn’t agree with this person) was saying how The Mandalorian didn’t have enough female characters or diversity and should be canceled.  It was some stupid opinion piece published by a site like Buzzfeed or Io9 during the first season of Mandalorian. 

This guy was very conservative but had a bad habit of seeking out fanatical articles like this to make himself angry.  The only time I ever agreed with him on the matter was when he came to my defense for not liking the 2016 Ghostbusters.  Someone in my own Gothic Horror Facebook group had decided to call me a self-loathing misogynist and insisted the only reason I didn’t like it is because the characters were women.   No, I don’t like slapstick comedy.  I didn’t like that they didn’t bother to use real parapsychology or theoretical physics (as the original had done).  I didn’t like that the “genius” of the group licked her proton blaster and that was the common promo image for the film. I didn’t like that people who praised the film entirely forgot that there was a diverse team lead by a woman in the 90s. (Extreme Ghostbusters).   I didn’t like that they destroyed ghosts instead of trapped them.   That violates the law of conservation and most spiritual beliefs as even being possible. It was just a bad movie.

I agreed with him on that one but when this anti-Mandalorian article came out he went too far.  He insisted the woman who wrote it should be dragged out into the street and shot.  He called her “it” and “thing” and said she didn’t deserve to live . I told him he was going too far, and she couldn’t take the show away, that he was over reacting. 

He then blocked me.   I thought it was done and over with, then the Pandemic hit.

When the Pandemic happened he unblocked me and in a revisionist history of events insisted he had blocked me because I had “lied” and said he threatened me.   No, he had told me he wanted to kill all progressives, knowing that I am one.   And that was not why he blocked me.  It was because I disagreed about his death threats about the writer of a Mandalorian article.  He wanted to fight.  He alternated between insulting me and trying to show how good he was to come to me during a world crisis, like he was doing me a favor.  I blocked him this time.

That night my Facebook account was disabled.  Someone had reported my account as not being a real person, and Facebook wanted photographic proof that I’m real.   It was re-enabled as soon as I sent in a photo but as I don’t have a smartphone (I live in a deadzone) and I’m visually impaired it was a little bit of a pain.  This was not something that had ever happened to me before.  And I had witnessed this Punisher fan report accounts of those he wanted to “punish” before.

And now I find out some of these rioters were wearing Punisher shirts.   So yes, I keep my guard up around Punisher fans.

Do I blame the character?  No.  Not really.   If not him they would have found someone else to try to emulate and idolize.  Getting rid of the character won’t get rid of this mentality.   I never liked the character but I don’t want him banned.  I would be happy if less people were obsessed with him.  I would be happy if those obsessed with the character didn’t all remind me of the man I described here.  I would be happy if fans of the character were more likely to say that they don’t agree with the character’s actions, they just like his story.

There’s nothing wrong in liking a character with problematic behavior.  But if you can’t acknowledge that it’s wrong and instead glorify and romanticize the actions of the character, that’s the problem.   I love lots of characters who do bad things.  I love Count Dracula.  I don’t intend to drink blood and sic wolves on people.   And I have absolutely no interest in impalement.   

I think far too many Punisher fans don’t realize he’s in the wrong, instead want to be like him, and have trouble separating fiction from reality.  I do not blame the character.  They would have found someone else if not him.  But unfortunately, I AM starting to view hardcore / obsessively being a fan of The Punisher as a bit of a red flag considering how many of them behave this way...

[cleverwordsandotherstuffilike]

Google ‘what not to wear after age 50’ and you will have your pick of thousands of articles telling you what looks terrible on your old ass body. I want to point out to the writer who wrote the 'no-no’ article, you need to remember you are writing for over 50 women, not preschoolers. I don’t think I’ve said 'no-no’ since my youngest was a toddler. We could spend hours studying the clothes we shouldn’t wear and the slang we shouldn’t use and the makeup techniques we need to retire. Here’s me, weighing in on this topic. You are over 50 for fuck’s sake. Wear whatever you want. If you’ve made it to 50 and still need to consult articles on how to dress appropriately then you are so missing out on one of the best things about being over 50. One of the best things about getting older is realizing that we don’t have to spend our energy worrying what other people think and we get to be comfortable in our own skin with our own freak flags. Still, there are a few things that women over 50 really shouldn’t wear: 1. The weight of the world. When you wear the weight of the world on your shoulders, you age. If you like the feel of the world’s weight and don’t want to give it up, then try scaling back a bit. Perhaps just wear the weight of a few of the smaller continents. For instance, I am only wearing the weight of Australia and a made up country called 'Michelloponia’. I think it they have a slimming effect. 2. Shame and regret. So few people can carry this look off. Most of us just end up looking haunted or like we were forced to eat liver and onions. Shame and regret are especially hard to wear after fifty. Wearing shame and regret past fifty is one of those things that make your eyes all red and runny looking. The downward spiral just snowballs from there. Once the eyes get old lady looking, then you have to re-evaluate the wisdom of black eye liner. I say give up wearing shame and regret and fuck giving up on black eye liner. 3. Rose-coloured glasses. Oh, sweetheart, you know who you are. Those glasses do nothing for you. Not only do they make you look like you’ve been smoking weed for days, they also keep you from examining life and your surroundings realistically. Yes, reality sucks, but by the time we hit fifty, we need to suck it up, take those glasses off and dick punch reality into submission. Or just get some really big dark sunglasses instead. They cover all manner of sins. 4. Stiff upper lip. There is a time and a place for the stiff upper lip, but damn, it can’t be worn all the time. Too much stiff upper lip causes those funky vertical lines between your upper lip and your nose holes. We don’t always have to be stoic. I’m not suggesting that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but that is a much softer look than wearing a stiff upper lip. 5. Too many hats. Personally, I can’t pull off wearing one hat, much less many hats. I don’t have a hat head. My hair poofs out and my ears look like car doors when I wear a hat. Wearing too many hats just exacerbates these issues. When you wear too many hats, it’s easy to forget which hat you’re wearing. For instance, are you wearing the “no nonsense corporate” hat when you meant to wear your “quirky and kicked back” hat? We’re not getting any younger, you know. Sooner or later you’re going to accidentally wear your court jester hat to the gynecologist and then where will you be? I’ll tell you where you’ll be. You’ll be in an undignified position and wearing a stupid hat is where you’ll be. 6. Resting bitch face. Hahahahaha. Just kidding. Wear that one all you want. Although, it wouldn’t hurt if every once in a while, you had a welcoming and kind look on your face. At least that’s what I hear from other people. There isn’t anything wrong with getting advice about updating your look or what to wear, but we are just inundated with that shit, aren’t we? Who says what is appropriate? From where I sit, it seems 'appropriate’ changes based on geography, social status, income and size. After a while, the advice becomes a confusing blur. I think I’ll just keep wearing my Keds and jeans and black tee shirts. Oh, I do have one real tip. Stop wearing holiday theme clothes. Seriously.

Michelle Combs for Huffington Post

[homesteadchronicles]

Kingdom Come: Writing Excerpt (“A Baptism by Blood”)

With my hiatus nearing its inevitable end, I’ve found myself looking for a means make writing natural again. Not having done so for a long time left me feeling anxious whenever I wanted to wipe off the rust and write my heart out. Thus, I want to try something new: writing prompts.

These won’t always be canon, these won’t always be excerpts from the actual project itself. They’re glimpses into the past, into the could-be future, into alternate timelines. They are what will allow me to expand my imagination and hone my skills until I feel confident transforming my outline into a draft once more.

For now, enjoy a snippet into the pasts of two protagonists: Royan and Oeden. Before friendship, before prophecies, before princehood...before the Vault.

___

EXCERPT DETAILS

Project: Kingdom Come Timeline: 5 Years Before Book One’s Beginning Character(s): Oeden “Halflife” Sincairn, Royan Godewine, Sigurd Godewine, Elyk Sincairn Content Warning: Blood, Warfare, Character Death, PTSD

___

The battlefield drank the felled king’s blood with vampiric patience. Each inch of soil sat agape, holes dug from the rush of boots and hooves sitting open like anxious mouths awaiting dinner. Common bodies could not satiate this thirst - the ground hungered for a royal feast.

Oeden could taste it, too. His tongue, his lips, his fingertips: each bore the gravemaker’s stain. Blood had baptized him, a life of innocence laid to rest. He had expected to die somewhen in this war. He had not considered death could take his youth but leave his life.

Royan, however, had not just lost life - he had taken it. And it, in turn, took its toll on his soul.

Hundreds of soldiers, Norian or otherwise, encircled them like a carrion banquet. Anointed armor lay entangled between the mangled limbs of their unnamed assailants. Whoever wished them harm had done well to ambush them. Swords, arrows, the clash of steel and Seals: all an unexpected prelude to this newfound cemetery. 

How had they survived when so many a knight met their end? I almost didn’t, Oeden realized. I wouldn’t have, if not for Royan.

Their king, however, had not his nephew’s fortune. Sigurd Godewine, once seated on the Frozen Throne of Norire, now sunk into a basin of bone and snow. The lance that stole his life still sat lodged in his torso, its tip stretching upwards as though it might break through this bodily barrier at any moment and continue its skyward course.

Yet, of the innumerable bodies of knights strewn about, none looked half as bad as the only survivor amongst them.

Royan shivered from a cold no winter could summon. His hands gripped the spear that pierced his uncle’s chest, the very thing that felled his family now allowing him to stand. What armor of his remained intact would soon rust from gore. Most remained in place, despite the casualties - a lost plate strap, the misplaced bracer.

But even through the blizzard, Oeden could see the shine of magic thrumming from Royan’s bared skin. He could feel it, the power a song that beckoned him. Oeden ignored the summons and approached Royan.

Mumbled apologies - or were they prayers? - fumbled from his mouth into unhearing ears. Noticing an unexpected presence, Royan spun about. Blue eyes froze upon recognition of a friend, a glare thawing into gladness. His knees buckled, tipped, spilled onto spoiled dirt. 

Royan crumbled, but Oeden caught him.

“Royan? Listen to me,” Oeden pleaded. When his requests went unheard, he yanked his liege’s helmet towards him. “Look at me, Royan. Not at him. At me.”

Royan’s gaze flickered away but once. He met Oeden’s eyes without thanks.

“There you are.” Royan’s face did not mirror the smile in Oeden’s tone. “You see me, right?” A pause, and then a nod. “Then hear me: I know you want to stay, think you need to, even, but we must leave. Now.”

His eyes followed a red tear trailing down the metal helm. Before there be no more blood to spill. The teardrop dripped off of the visor, both boys watching its descent, until it rippled across the back of Royan’s hand. Crimson waves could not drown the truth beneath: a Seal had surfaced on his flesh.

Not an hour ago, that skin had remained devoid of defect. Now, the Timekeeper’s mark made its home on his hand. Had it always been lying dormant within him? Or had Sigurd done something to awaken it in his last moments on earth?

Oeden would have lingered in his dread, had that Sealscarred hand not lurched forward to clutch at his cloak. It searched for an escape Oeden could not provide.

“What do I do?” Royan asked, his voice a quiver. “Everyone will know what I am. They’ll want to make me king, Oeden!” He screamed the word as though it were a curse. “I can’t hide it, can’t ignore it, can’t discard it.” He sobbed: a single, broken howl. “I’m...trapped.”

Oeden knew all too well of such bindings, had borne invisible shackles that chained him to pariah-hood since conception. He refused to let another life be lost to unwarranted imprisonment. “Not if I can help it”.

One hand ripped a strip from his cloak. With the other, Oeden sought a weapon. A knife, a sword, anything would work. The only solution within reaching distance - as Royan made no motion to rise - came attached to the once-king’s corpse: Sigurd’s clawed gauntlet.

Before Royan could protest, Oeden had unbuckled the straps that kept the armor intact. You’ve already doomed his future, Oeden thought with a spite he was glad only God could hear, at least spare his present. One last tug and the gauntlet came free.

Oeden did naught but mumble an apology as Royan stared on with muted confusion. This might hurt, he thought, and swung the gauntlet across his master’s hand.

Royan scrambled backwards with an unseemly yelp. For a beat, the fear of betrayal ran rampant across his face.

Oeden waved the fabric like a white flag. “Trust me.”

Whether out of need or desire, Royan obeyed. The prince bowed in submission as his squire bandaged his hand - an unthinkable act elsewhere. But in the aftermath of battle? No one cared for class, race, creed. Those that outlasted death clung to the living with blind desperation.

As the treatment neared its end, Royan whispered what might have been a word of gratitude, if Oeden had not awaited the inquiry.

“...why?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Oeden sensed from his lord’s blank stare that this trauma had overridden his survival instinct. “You can’t keep this a secret forever. But for now? Making it look like an injury will let you avoid suspicion long enough for us to - God willing - get back to Almsgard unscathed and out of enemy territory.”

“No, that’s not...I meant...” Royan fumbled, biting his lip. He seemed a child all the more then, somehow lost in a war zone. “Why, as in, ‘why are you helping me?’”

Oeden could have laughed, should have, even. What a ridiculous question! Oeden’s very existence as a squire meant ensuring the survival of his liege. Sure, they had never shared an intimate bond before, but that did not annul his duty. His occupation aside, who would not seize the chance to have the Northern royalty indebted to them - especially one as persecuted as he?

But the truth? That confession confused him, frightened him. But it spoke to him of a kindness he had not seen in all of Norire - a kindness, he hoped, could become consistent.

“You saved my life,” Oeden reminded him, “or have you forgotten already? Given the choice between protecting me and protecting your uncle, you came to my aid. Couldn’t tell you why you would do something so stupid - something I cannot, might I remind you, ever hope to repay. But I’d say I owe you this, at least, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t looking for a refund...”

That sincerity warmed the frozen corners of Oeden’s heart. “Be that as it may, I’m indebted all the same.” He rose to his feet, dragging Royan’s weakened form along with him. “But we can decide on debts later. For now, we need to find the other survivors.”

If there are any, he thought. The battle’s gruesome nature left little guarantees of finding life amongst the carnage. Sealed God, if you’ve ever listened to me, let Lord Elyk have lived. Oeden didn’t dare imagine his mother’s reaction should she learn her husband died. She did not deserve to lose anything else.

The boys stumbled about the bodies, avoiding the ravens that had already begun their scavenging. They dared make no further noise, lest the survivor they see be an enemy in waiting. Oeden noticed Royan searching every face, some making his own fall.

These are his men, Oeden realized. His servants, his soldiers. Lifelong friends and family. All to save a king he damned...a king he might become.

When they had thought their search fruitless, Oeden heard a faraway cry. In the distance, obscured by sleet and mist, stood a host of knights. Two men, arms outstretched and voices raised towards them, awaited their arrival: Knight-Commander Magnus and Knight-Captain Elyk.

Our fathers live, Oeden thought, and the relief was enough to set him sprinting. Elyk did likewise, bounding towards his son until he could scoop him up in his arms. Oeden did not swallow his laugh or roll his eyes the way he would when his father embarrassed him elsewhere. Elyk did not think of dignity or disguise his affection for the sake of his men’s approval. Here, now, all that mattered to them both was that they had defied the odds. Their family had outsmarted death.

When both their breaths had been spent, Elyk placed Oeden back down, a kiss pressed to his forehead. “Thank the Seals you’re safe...”

Oeden curled further into his father’s embrace, but his gaze ventured beyond them to hover over Royan’s hand. No one is safe anymore...

[only-by-the-stars]

the annotated Tome of the Wild

Part 7: The Wild!

- Link didn't open his eyes. A twist on the beginning of BOTW, where you hear Zelda telling Link to open his eyes. I couldn’t resist.

- Hestu’s cameo was a lot of fun to write too. I always found him adorable, first in BOTW and then in AOC as well, and the idea of him waking up Link with his maracas was too amusing not to do. I also had to include his “shimmy shimmy” battle cry from AOC because I always laugh my head off whenever I hear it.

- This also reveals that Midna brought Link to the Great Deku Tree, a character that debuted in OOT and made further appearances in WW and BOTW.

- Something tickled her arm, breaking her out of her gloomy thoughts. Midna lifted her head and looked down. New growth was sprouting from the branch she was sitting on, wriggling its way up onto her. Nothing like this happens to Beatrice in the show, but I had to put in this chilling little moment of Midna nearly succumbing to the dekuwood. It provides a way later to introduce Rhoam’s presence in his scene, as well as some horror at what could’ve happened to her here.

- Note to self: never visit Tabantha if you can help it... Tabantha, of course, being a very cold region in BOTW’s Hyrule. Link’s newfound hatred of snow mirrors my own, and now he’s going to associate it with this horrible experience.

- “It's a bad habit, I guess.” He laughed softly. He’s referring, of course, to how he casually greeted Riju and Medli back at the school pool and they gave him a bit of a hard time about it.

- “You...” Midna stared at him for several seconds, stunned. “You...” She slapped his hand away and starting swinging her tiny fists at him, which he easily dodged. “You oaf! You idiot! What the hell—what the hell is wrong with you? How can you forgive me so easily, when you're still in a shit situation because of me? Neither one of us would be out here groping around blindly in the fucking snow if not for what I did!” I set up Midna and Link to be parallels of each other in a couple ways. One of which is that while Link has isolated himself from Mipha, hurting and confusing her, Midna is on the other end of something similar with Zelda. And here we see something they both struggle with: forgiving themselves. Midna can’t understand how Link can so easily forgive her actions towards him, while Link utterly despises himself for his actions towards Mipha and cannot forgive himself for causing her pain. He’ll later struggle with the fact that Mipha forgives him easily, just as Midna is having trouble understanding his forgiveness of her here. All of them find it easier to forgive their loved ones than to grant that same grace to themselves.

- “She told me that while she appreciated how much I cared, I should think a little more and be less reckless. I know she'd never call me stupid, but...” Link shrugged. “Honestly, I kind of am.” Another reference to Mipha calling Link reckless, and how she hates seeing him get hurt. He is indeed not the smartest guy around, but she does describe him as being very kind and determined to help those in need, so I tried to emphasize that aspect of his personality in this story. Although the “I kind of am” line is also intended to be a subtle red flag. We’ve already seen that Link thinks very little of himself and his abilities, even when it’s clear from the words of others that he’s very talented. And we’re about to soon see him use a bit of intelligence he very much does have, in order to save the day. He would never believe himself capable of such a thing, but he does it anyway.

- “Even just a few branches could be processed... enough to get us through this storm...” Note the use of the plural here. This is leading up to the revelation about his belief that Zelda is in the lantern. His desperation to find more oil anywhere is because, of course, he believes that if the light goes out she will die. And he wouldn’t be in this scarcity if not for what happened back in chapter one, with Link and Aryll and the dog accidentally wrecking the mill and his oil supply.

- He was soon rewarded with a most welcome sight: a single dekuwood branch, growing out of that of a normal tree. It seemed sickly, withered, and it waved feebly in the air, but he rushed forward and hacked it off anyway. The very same branch that tried to attach itself to Midna, sickly and withered precisely because of that failure.

- And now we come to the confirmation that the dekuwood is made from the people who succumb to despair and exhaustion in the woods, right as we see it growing all around Aryll. Rhoam has been unaware this entire time of all the souls he’s sacrificed over the past several months, and now that he knows, he refuses to do it any longer. For he, like Midna, recognizes that Zelda would never want anyone to be harmed for her sake.

He’s also right that Link would never leave Aryll to such a fate, recognizing Link’s love and protectiveness towards his little sister. This is a point where my characterization of Link wildly diverges from that of Wirt, the protagonist of OTGW. I pulled some things from Wirt for Link and his arc, but one thing I didn’t keep was the resentment and initial callousness that Wirt displays for Greg, who is revealed in the tavern sequence to be his half-brother thanks to his mother remarrying, something Greg frowns at when Wirt mentions it. Aryll is also technically Link’s half-sister, as I revealed in the letters that his mother remarried some years after his father’s death and had Aryll with her new husband, but I could not for the life of me see him being resentful or unkind to his little sister. Whatever his faults, I’ve written him as being, at his core, an incredibly kind and deeply loving person, and his adoration of his sister is a part of that. He doesn’t view her as a “half” anything, she’s just his sister and he’ll do anything to protect her. Which of course is a big part of what led to his breakdown: his feelings of guilt over not doing as good a job of that as he thinks he should be doing.

- “Link, I don't... I don't think that's natural light. It looks more like...” This has a double meaning. The fire in the lantern is not the “natural light” of the sun, and it is also deeply unnatural, given that it’s the Beast’s soul in there.

- Speaking of that! The confrontation with the Beast plays out a bit differently here than it does in the show, thanks to Midna’s personal connection to all this. Rhoam’s mention of Zelda gets her attention, and the Beast uses her love for Zelda as a way to try and turn her and Link against each other with his attempt to make them choose which soul will go into the lantern. He’ll get fuel and kill Aryll either way, but why not pit these two against each other as a way to manipulate them into doing what he wants? Except it backfires, because Midna won’t harm anyone for Zelda’s sake, and Link figures out what’s going on anyway, thanks to remembering the words of Rhoam and Telma.

- Link stood up, his mind racing. It was like when the solution to a puzzle finally presented itself in a moment of stunning clarity. For all that he’s not that bright in so many ways, it’s important to remember that he’s canonically able to solve all those tricky puzzles we do, without benefit of a guide, just using his wits and the tools he has at hand. And so too does he solve this particular puzzle, by remembering what he’s been told and piecing it together with what he sees here, thinking about the fact that the Beast’s story doesn’t add up. Which saves the day, in the end.

- “Am I wrong?” Link repeated, his voice shaking with barely suppressed fury; he took a few more steps, forcing the Beast to retreat further. “No more lies. Tell the truth for once, Beast.” Referencing, of course, the fact that Telma told him the Beast lies. He’s absolutely furious right now because of the attempt on Aryll’s life; you do not mess with Link’s loved ones. The Beast, too, fucked around and found out the hard way.

- In the show, Wirt gives the lantern back to the Woodsman to blow out after the delivery of the “Are you?” line that I kept (and had Link nail the delivery of on his first try, unlike Wirt, because that’s what makes sense for both their characters). Here, I chose to let Link kill the Beast, because he is, after all, the legendary hero who slays the villain. But even more importantly, I felt he deserved and had earned such a moment with his growing courage over the course of the tale.

- “See you later, Link.” Hey, remember how Midna broke all our hearts by saying a similar line to Link in TP as she broke the mirror and went back to her world? I sure do!

- “Sleepers wake, dreams will fade... although we cling fast..." This, and the lyrics that close out this section, are the first few lines of the vocal version of Ballad of the Wind Fish that was done for the LA remake.

- There were lights and shadowy figures coming closer, and voices—was someone calling his name? As I would later reveal in the prologue of a place to start, Mipha was screaming his name as she ran down the hill towards him.

- The words he wanted so badly to say to her hung on the tip of his tongue And it shows on his face, that desire to express the love for her that is all but bursting out of him in this moment, and Mipha sees it. She sees that love shining in his eyes as they stare at each other, giving her her hope back and then some. In a way, Link was right: if he hadn’t hidden from her, she would’ve realized what his real feelings for her are. He just didn’t know how happy it would’ve made her. But he will soon.

- “—and that's how we got away from the evil possessed lady!” Out of the corner of his eye Link saw Aryll shake the frog triumphantly, and Mipha, distracted by the sudden commotion, looked away from him. A small, muffled chime sounded, and the amphibian's stomach glowed. “The ringing of the bell commanded her! Though she wasn't really evil, just...” The series is never clear on just what the otherworld the brothers enter is, but it is clear that it really happened to them, and I preserved that ambiguity in the same way, by showing the bell as still being in the frog’s stomach.

- Link nodded. “Yes.” It didn't matter anymore how it'd gotten into her pocket; he'd made it, and brought it with him tonight, with the intention of giving it to her. There was no more question of taking it back or denying it. Courage has been achieved; he’s no longer going to hide or pretend, or try to take back the gift he worked on so hard. Midna is right: he’s been so brave in the Wild, and it’s time to apply that bravery to confessing his feelings to Mipha and letting her know that he loves her. The words will have to wait till the next day, but for now he’s doing all he can to face his fears and stop running, by hugging her and holding her hand and wiping her tears away, letting his love show in his expression as he looks at her without avoiding her eyes. Plus, of course, admitting to his intentions with the tape and inviting her over to listen to it together. They’re finally getting a breakthrough after two months of separation and pain.

- The doctor, Syrup, is a recurring NPC throughout the series, a witch who brews up helpful healing potions for Link to use on his adventures.

- I'm home, Mipha. Calling back, of course, to Midna’s line about there being someone waiting for him and to go home to her. Not only that, but in Mipha’s letters, I had her mention wanting him to “come back to her”. And now he finally has.

and that wraps this up, as the epilogue is composed strictly of Miphlink fluff and sweet, sweet payoff. if you took the time to read the fic and these write ups, thank you, I hope you enjoyed them! ❤