#and this just. reinforced it in the worst way possible and just like. whats the point

[hatosaur]

it's pretty implied that ellie never came out to joel in the proper sense. she lets him assume that she's into men, gives him the false satisfaction of "seeing" her "crush" on jesse, does not correct him. she's fairly confident in being gay in public for others to see and having others close to her know; so why not correct him? why dodge the topic?

was it out of fear? could it be that she never broached the topic despite being close to him in the early years because of the possibility of his reaction being negative? that she was afraid that out of all things that could force them apart (further apart after they split), him reacting badly to her being gay would be the worst?

what about at the dance? would she have been as wound up as she was if the moment hadn't been an encounter with a vicious homophobe? maybe she would've still snapped without this context, but why is she immediately on the defensive against joel after he sticks up for her?

what about the porch scene? why did she refute his question of dina being her girlfriend so insecurely, looking away, nervously and quietly stumbling over words? why isn't she mean about it? why doesn't she get defensive at the question? why did she lash out again when he expressed acceptance?

i think these scenes revolving around her queerness indicate it as such; that ellie never told joel for fear of a response, that she lets him think what he wants because that's the easiest way for it to be. then, when she's ready to face off against a homophobe, because that's the way things are, that's what she can expect, and joel defends her, she lashes out.

it's such a clear juxtaposition of support and hatred between joel and seth, and being faced with joel's acceptance is too much, makes her turn to the anger she'd been holding onto and reinforce what she thinks is true -- that she doesn't need him. and in the fallout, as her regret dawns on her, so too does the realization; he was protecting her, like always, without hesitation, over this thing she was always afraid he wouldn't accept her for.

in the porch scene, joel chooses his words wisely, and asks if dina is her girlfriend -- not "so you're gay?" or "why did you never tell me?" or "how long has this been a thing?" -- with such a casuality that it seems to throw her off. it's like ellie can hardly get the words out. she refutes the idea, fumbles for each following part of her response, is tense. she wasn't prepared for the question.

and when he finally asserts his support for her, in as explicit terms as he can, you can see ellie become emotional, touched for a moment but overcome, before she launches into the defensive again, exactly like at the dance scene -- meeting his kindness with hostility as a way to cope with her emotions.

and then, in response to her basically saying her life doesn't matter, he affirms that it does.

so he's now affirmed two things that ellie has doubted: that he accepts her being a lesbian, and that her life matters. a conflation of the two, in ellie's mind, may have come after; and after that, her olive branch.

and yeah, him affirming these things for her is fully in the context of his overwhelming parental love for her and her complex feelings about being the cure, but within a queer subtext, it means more. it's such a familiar thing to slink around loved ones and hide being gay/queer for fear of any type of response, and lying by omission in conversation just to keep that state of peace, of normalcy. ellie, with all her brutishness and bravery, falls into it like anyone else, because even while mad at him, she valued that response from him.

a lot of people seem to think that the approach to ellie's queerness is nonchalant, that it's just some unrelated thing about her, but i think that it holds more weight in the narrative that what is explicitly spelled out. it's subtle but it was a deliberate choice to place her queerness at the center of the confrontation. i think that's why ellie's relationship with dina took center stage in the story, and why so much time is devoted to just them -- because her being queer matters to her character, but in a way that perhaps only a queer person can see, analyze, and appreciate (without being blatant enough to anger certain other fans).

#i've been re-evaluating my long-conflicting feelings on the concept of coming out #tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #this isn't an internet breaking take #i'm sure someone has said this before #but i'm just...thinking. #the meta of us #talkies #ellie williams #joel miller

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

#colby brock #colby brock fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #colby brock fanfic #hell week #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x reader #xplr #colby brock x oc #colby brock x you #sam and colby x reader #sam and colby fanfiction #sam golbach x colby brock #sam golbach x you #colby x reader #xplr club #colby

[adickaboutspoons]

Fuck me, I have more to say about this moment:

And it's gonna get ugly, folks, so buckle in. As important as it is to understand this scene as a moment of Character Growth for Stede? It's also key to understanding Why Shit Went Down the way it did during the negotiation of the escape plan in Act of Grace. So Stede stands up for himself and draws some boundaries. Good for him! Love to see it. And how does Ed respond to "I don't like who you are around this guy?"

And what does he say when he chooses to leave with Jack?

It's a through-line. In this moment, Ed is calling back to the conversation on the beach. I don't think he is being intentionally cruel - to him, what he's saying is more of a reflection of his struggles with feelings of worthlessness - but how can Stede help but make the association; the ONE TIME he draws boundaries with Ed, Ed leaves. Not only does Ed choose to go, rather than stay and respect Stede's boundaries (which, I would argue are completely reasonable here; Don't wantonly kill innocent animals), he is aligning himself with the man that has spent the entire day tormenting Stede ("This" - Jack killing Karl - "is who I am"). Again, I'm not saying that he's being intentionally cruel; I don't think he fully understands how awful Jack has been to Stede. But, surely you can see how, from Stede's perspective, this is absolutely DEVASTATING - much more than JUST the heartbreak of the man that you had so recently made tentative plans to join your life with ("Co-Captains!") breaking up with you. But breaking up with you AND CHOOSING ONE OF THE WORST PEOPLE YOU KNOW OVER YOU.

So now we come to the Act of Grace and the scene on the beach:

No, AFTER that.

Ed proposes a plan to run away together. And Stede... doesn't say yes. In fact, his first instinct is to push back, THREE TIMES.

"But you said there was no escape."

"What about the English? They'll be all over us."

"China? That's quite far away."

Every time Ed dismisses his concerns - comes up with a reason to make the plan A Thing. Ed is clearly not going to take "no" for an answer.

And what happened the last time Stede told him no?

Ed left.

Ed broke his heart.

Ed sided with the kind of person that validates Stede's every insecurity about not being enough.

So is it any wonder that Stede gives in? And not even with enthusiastic consent. With the most tepid positive-leaning neutral responses possible.

"Yeah."

"I think so."

"Mm-hm."

(Which is to say nothing about his body language - the incredulous-bordering-on-disgusted face he makes when he talks about China, his lips pressed together when he says "Mm-hm", the way he starts the conversation leaning in toward Ed, his body twisted toward him, but quickly shifts so his body is angled straight ahead with his head awkwardly twisted to the side to look at Ed)

The seeds of tragedy were planted when Ed left Stede. Because, by doing so, he accidentally reinforced a lifetime of Stede being taught that his wants and needs are secondary to those of others, and that acceptance is conditional on compliance.

#spicy takes that I won't at all come to regret #my modest contribution to fandom #ofmd #our flag means death

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Leonidas with Yoriichi Tsugikuni!fem!reader platonic headcanons

Warning(s): RoR manga spoilers up to ch. 78, historical references, violence, KNY anime spoilers, established relationship, strong language from Leonidas, ooc.

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @enryegotrip and @themoonisrising for their feedback in the drafting phrase!

Before reading this piece, however, I strongly recommend you read this story, as it acts as a part two. The link will be here.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax, and enjoy the chaos that is about to unfold :)

King Leonidas knew the gods existed and he hated them. Apollo, the arrogant little shit who was worshiped in Delphi all those centuries ago, is the god whom he despised the most. His men knew why but they were wise enough to never speak about the patriot of the arts in front of him. He did not, however, know that demons existed in Valhalla too…until that fateful night. 

He and his men were settling in their campsite, bellies full and ready to resume their training or take the first watch and make sure no one tried to sneak past them…but someone did.  It had been an old man, whimpering and cowering with a large lump on his head and wearing tattered clothes. Just when a soldier barked at him to leave or die where he stood, brandishing a spear in his direction…the old man’s body split in half, then half again until four young men began attacking the campsite. All hell broke loose, and Leonidas had no idea what the fuck was going on or how to kill them.

Guns didn’t work on the winged one because he was too fast in the air, the swords and spears of his men snapped in half when making contact with the bodies of the blue-eyed one before he impaled them with a halberd. The one wearing red robes possessed a staff that could create lightning within a seven foot radius, and the green one used a fan to blow away his men with a single swing. He used his shield when the latter and the winged one attacked, but it could only do so much against a sonic wave attack. 

When shit looked like it was about to go sideways in the worst way possible, she showed up seemingly out of nowhere. She zigzagged across the field, dodging the winged one’s attacks and swiftly decapitating the halberd-wielding bastard, his head flying off and landing in the mud with a ‘thud’. That was when King Leonidas noticed something odd about the opponents…no, it wasn’t odd. These sons of bitches knew who exactly you were and they were afraid. 

The horned demon in red raised his staff in the air, preparing for another lightning strike when she appeared in front of him. She inhaled sharply through her mouth and raised her sword above her head, the blade becoming ignited in crimson flames before striking him down, his body splitting in half. It was after taking this monster down that she addressed him. 

“My lord….there is a fifth demon…heading northeast. That is the demon’s main body. If it is destroyed, then the other four will cease to exist. My comrades…they are on their way. They will be here soon, and provide aid.” She then looked him straight in the eye, calm and level-headed as if this wasn’t the first time she had fought against these things. “Normal weapons cannot penetrate a demon’s body…but seeing that you are carrying firearms, use this.” She pulled out three cartridges of ammunition from her  robes and handed them to him. “Aim for the head. I must go…before the main body gets too far away.” 

She then darted away from the campsite, disappearing into the darkness of the forest. Leonidas is a proud man, but even he knew not to look at a gift in the horse’s mouth. He unclipped the magazine in his pistol and loaded in the new ammo, opening fire but making sure that these bullets would not be wasted. 

Just as the woman said, reinforcements arrived. All wearing robes and carrying swords, moving across the battlefield as if they were dancing and not fighting against these creatures. 

Spartans are bred for battle and will die for battle. Never give up, never surrender. That is in their blood. However, a smart Spartan realizes the difference between an ally and an enemy, and that the flow of time constantly changes in the mortal realm. From politics to fighting techniques, if it can be used to take down an enemy, King Leonidas doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything else. 

When his second magazine was on the last bullet, all of the demons disintegrated into ash. The soldiers shouted in Grecian, raising their bloodied spears in the air and smiling victoriously. Their mysterious comrades either relished in the moment or simply walked away from the battlefield, sheathing their swords with a grimace. A little while later she returned to the campsite, expressionless and covered in blood that was not her own. 

She  bowed deeply to him. “I apologize…my lord. If I had been sooner…there would not have been so much damage…and you would not have lost so many men.” 

Leonidas just shook his head. His men were prepared to die in battle if it meant glory and victory in the name of Sparta, they trained to go up against even the most powerful of opponents. But what he could not stand is not knowing what he and his army are fighting…so what the hell were those monsters? He wanted information, and he wanted it now. 

To his surprise, she was more than compliant to sit and talk with him. One of her associates, a tall brat with a large sword strapped on his back, barked at her, saying that it's against the rules to share confidential information with an ‘outsider’ but the woman replied that he has a right to know. He is the commander of these men; would it not be better to tell him and prevent this situation from happening again? 

Furthermore, she is an unofficial member of the organization, so the rules do not affect her as much as it does to him or the others. When her associate turned away with a scoff, she asked him what he liked to know. 

“Everything.” He snapped. 

She nodded. “Of course.”

As the men cleared the debris and buried their dead, Leonidas fired question after question at the swordswoman, whose name he learned was [First Name] [Last Name]. Demons were nocturnal in nature, and consumed human flesh to gain strength. Their bodies were extremely durable; normal weapons cannot harm them, and they can only be killed by decapitation. Her sword, a nichirin blade, forged from Scarlet Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore, both of which can be found in high mountains that perpetually bathed in sunlight all year around. 

Sunlight was the only thing that could kill a demon for good. The bullets she gave him were created from the same materials, designed for a Hashira that preferred guns to swords.  A Hashira is a very strong Demon Slayer, and she is one herself: the Sun Hashira, which is why her blade ignited upon attacking the demons. The Breathing Style is…difficult to explain and to learn, but it is effective. 

The Demon Slayer Corps had existed for over a thousand years, and it was revived in Valhalla under Lord Hades’ command. Another human soul, Nostradamus, destroyed the Bifrost and demons have been crawling their way into Valhalla ever since. The one he and his men came in contact with is Hantengu, a powerful demon who once served under Muzan Kibutsuji. 

Muzan was the original creator of the demon race, and she had encountered him once many years ago. 

“I wish I could tell you more my lord,” She bowed her head to him. “The only thing I can offer is to give you the name of the person who can create these bullets, though I must ask that you keep his identity a secret. Muzan might have perished all of those years ago, but seeing one of the Upper Moons here in Valhalla and still possess their powers…the possibility that he might have regenerated in Helheim cannot be ruled out. If he still wishes to destroy the Demon Slayers, he will make another attempt to kill the craftsman who creates the weapons that can destroy him and the other Upper Moons under his command.”

Lenoidas nodded. Makes sense, He thought. Keeping a supplier safe is crucial in war. The less an enemy knows who or how their opponent is getting their weapons, the better. Cut off the supplier and supply route, these people wouldn’t have the swords or bullets needed to destroy the demons. Still…

“Is it possible to meet the guy who made these?” He asked, holding up the empty cartridge. “I know that’s asking a lot from a stranger like myself, trust me, but just having the basic info on an opponent won’t help me or my army be prepared if this situation happens again. You said you’re an unofficial member of this organization.”

“...I am. However, to meet the creator of the bullets…I would need to speak to Lord Ubuyashiki first. He is…very protective of us all, like we are his children. The secret location of the swordsmiths had been exposed once before, when the organization had been on the decline in the Taisho era. You may have to speak and present your case to him as to why you wish to know the suppliers.” 

“How soon can that be?”

“When I return to headquarters, I will go straight to him myself…though I am sure no one will want that. He has…not been well as of late.” [First Name] looked to the side, blinking at the large crow perched on her shoulder. “I will send you a message through this little one, should he allow this meeting. Is that acceptable?”

Momentarily surprised that such a large bird suddenly appeared out of nowhere, Leonidas cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s fine. I look forward to hearing from you…through your bird.” 

The Demon Slayer nodded, bowing to him before she left the campsite as quickly as she had appeared, stunning the war general with her agility. Huh…were women soldiers in the Demon Slayer Corps always so sneaky? He’ll have to ask next time. Right now, he had to direct his mind and think about his next move. For now, it seemed going north would be the best choice; there was a Greecian military base there, so his men could rest until they were called to the next war. He’ll also need to let his wife, Gorgo, know what happened as well. 

Gorgo remained Queen of Sparta when he was away at battle, in life and in death. She had just as much authority and political power as he did, so he knew their home in Valhalla would be well-protected in his absence. If he hadn’t known that these demons existed until now…could he truly say that their home is fortified against every single threat? No. And she deserved to be aware of the situation. 

They were husband and wife for fuck’s sake. 

A week flew by until the army reached the base, and another when the messenger crow flew through the window in his study one sunny afternoon, a scroll tied around its neck. Hoisting himself up from his hammock, Lenoidas marked his spot in the book he’d been reading and set it down on the floor. He walked towards the window and untied the rope around the crow’s neck, unfurling the parchment to scan the contents. 

The meeting will take place in four days. A member of the organization, a kakushi, will personally escort him to the lord of the manor on the morning of the meeting. To ensure everyone’s safety, he must wear a blindfold the entire time until he is given permission to remove it. 

Lenoidas’ brow twitched. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. He thought, annoyed, before he sighed deeply. [First Name] had promised him that she will try to persuade the clan head to speak to him in regards to the suppliers. This would be his first and only chance to negotiate peacefully. 

He couldn’t allow the Sun Hashira’s hard work to go to waste…so he’ll play along. 

Time passed quickly as he made the necessary preparations. Before he knew it, a fellow dressed from head to toe in black with a cloth concealing his face waited at the city’s gates. The kakushi  blindfolded the king of Sparta, and then they departed. 

But it wasn’t just one kakushi that escorted him…there were many of them, each with a different voice and mannerisms, switching him off at a designated post. Some were polite, curt. Others were skittish, can’t really blame them honestly. When he’d been granted permission to remove the blindfold, Leonidas was…surprised to see a young man smiling serenely at him, dressed in white and purple robes. He was flanked by two small children, and a woman sat behind him. 

Safe assumption that these were his heirs and wife, but the Spartan general kept his comments to himself as he observed the lord. His eyes were clouded, unfocused. Blind. Probably caused by the rotten skin that’s spreading on his face. 

The man and his family bowed their heads to him. “Welcome to our humble home, Lord Lenoidas of the Spartan Army.” He said softly. “[First Name] has spoken highly of you since her return. A courageous leader who remained calm in such a dire and unexpected situation…though you wish to meet the ones who have supplied my children with the necessary weapons to protect themselves and others from the demons who prowl at night. May I inquire why you wish to have access to our resources? How can I be sure that you will not spread this information to others?”

This was it. One chance to either get the information he seeked…or to lose it all, and his men would go back into battle unprepared. Leonidas inhaled a deep breath, and spoke. 

He didn’t sugarcoat his intentions, plainly and respectfully to Lord Ubuyashiki. To his surprise, this brat didn’t get pissed off or talked down to him. Instead, the young lord understood where he was coming from. There have been more reports of sporadic ruptures in the Bifrost; try as they might, the Demon Slayer Corps cannot be everywhere and protect everyone. Lenoidas’ armies were the largest within the Grecian district, rivaling only that to Chinese militia, so it would be beneficial to supply the war general with the necessary anti-demon artillery, but only to his armies. 

Right now, he was the only human leader outside of the organization who knew about the demons’ existence. As much as he wanted to help everyone, there were too many cons rather than pros to take another gamble with the supplier’s secret location should anyone else be aware that there were weapons that can kill demons. 

As much as Leonidas wanted to protest…the brat had a point. The less people knew, the better. No good in causing a panic among the public. The gods could go fuck themselves, of course. The war general wasn’t too concerned about them so much as his fellow mortal comrades. 

Then the meeting was settled. He along with the Sun Hashira would be escorted to the swordsmans’ village to meet the bullet crafter, and talk about business as needed. Lenoidas thanked the lord for his time…and politely asked to give his regards to [First Name]. 

That was the last time Leonidas saw Ubuyashiki. Within the following week, he and the Sun Hashira embarked on a journey to the suppliers alongside the secretive kakushi.  He saw how the bullets were created, negotiated the amount needed to a fair price, and things propelled from there. 

He also came to enjoy [First Name]’s company. She wasn’t a talkative person, though she had proven herself to be insightful and open-minded when they spoke on the way back to Sparta. She had agreed to go with him and his men on an expedition  under the condition that she would teach them everything she knew about demon extermination. She warned him she was not good at explaining more complex Breathing Styles, and it might not be suitable for his men. There might also be questions that even she cannot answer fully, though she will do her best. 

Leonidas said he was well aware but at this point, he was willing to take a chance with the Sun Hashira; these men were under his command, so he knew them like the back of his hand. Whatever Breathing Styles or demon exterminating techniques she knew and was willingly to teach would be appreciated. Hell, if there was a way to implement it in his army’s battle formations and even his own fighting style, Leonidas will take it for what it’s worth. 

Leonidas grinned as he watched [First Name] training his men from the rim of his book. She had proven early in their journey that she was not to be underestimated or her lessons to be taken for granted. She’d saved their asses, helped them secure a supplier for a fair fee, and showed them how to combat against lower-level demons if they ever came across them at night. Didn’t even complain about the long hours spent walking or hiding up the mountains. 

The only downside to this arrangement is that when it was time to restock their weapons with anti-demon bullets, spears, or shields, Leonidas had to go get everything himself. 

Pain in the ass, but worth it in the end. 

The war general wondered if he should consult Gorgo about adding women who can fight to the army’s ranks would be more beneficial and boost morale, or would just make things worse, when a scout shouted that a god was approaching the campsite. Lenoidas narrowed his eyes, getting himself out of his hammock again because shit was about to go down. Once he grabbed his spear and shield, he darted towards the enemy with [First Name] following close behind. The men were already in the phalanx formation, acting as a barrier around the campsite to prevent the intruder from taking another step further. 

Lenonidas stared at the god. Tall, muscular, couldn’t be more than seven or seven and a half feet tall. Black tank-top with a weird ass rabbit on the front, orange robes tied around his waist and hands. Sunglasses, long blonde hair, light blue orbs…is that a fucking lollipop in his mouth? 

Who is this punk?

“Buddha?” [First Name] said. 

Lenonidas blinked once, then twice before he swiveled his head over his shoulder to glance at the slightly stunned swordswoman. “You know him?” She gave him a brief nod, then looked straight ahead with a confused frown. The war general followed her gaze and saw the son of a bitch standing right in front of him, his shadow almost towering over his own. The god blinked, munching on the lollipop with his oversized canines. 

“Yo. You’re that war general from Sparta, right? Nice to meet ya. Soo…sorry for the sudden visit, but I’m takin’ the Sun Hashira back with me. Ya dig?”

“And what gives you the right to treat her like an object, shithead?” Leonidas growled. “This is why I can’t fuckin’ stand the likes of you or any others in the pantheons.”

The god stared at him. “Old man…I respect that you wanna protect her, but you should know more than anyone that she’s more than capable of defending herself. You’ve seen her in action, right? That’s how she met ya. And why she decided to go with ya on this trip. However, she’s been away from home for far too long.”

Buddha then walked  past him and gathered up the swordswoman in his arms, with one hand under her legs and the other around her shoulders. “C’mon sunshine, we’re headin’ back to paradise.”

[First Name] blinked. “We are? But the men still need more time to be properly trained - ”

“Six months.”

“Hm?”

“You haven’t been home in six months, and ya had the guts to leave your husband all alone in a cold bed.” He puffed up his cheeks in annoyance. “I might enjoy hangin’ around the bodhi tree when you’re not around, but I wanna cuddle with my wife more than once before she suddenly heads off on a mission without sayin’ good-bye! You could’ve woken me up before ya left so I know were you’re goin’, you silly rabbit!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ya should be! I almost had to call Kintoki and ask him to track ya down if your crow didn’t drop off a message beforehand! Think things through before you run off into action, darlin’!”

“Okay.”

Lenoidas and the army stared at the pair with slackened jaws at the sight of a god pouting like a child as he scolded the Sun Hashira, who has identified himself as her husband. She was married to a god, and didn’t say anything to them?!? 

[First Name] looked over Buddha’s shoulder, waving her hand at him. “I’ll be going home, Lord Lenonidas. I’m sorry this trip has to be cut short, but feel free to send a message to my residence or Lord Ubuyashiki’s if you have any questions or concerns.” 

The war general felt a headache coming on. “Yeah…sure. Don’t worry about it or the training, we can handle it from here. Just go home to your…husband.” He muttered. “And don’t  be a stranger either, all right? You’re always welcomed in Spartan territory. If any of ‘em give you a hard time, I’ll knock some sense into them.” 

She nodded, offering the barest hint of a smile before she looped her arms around Buddha’s neck. The god looked back at him and inclined his head. In an instant, the pair were gone, returning to wherever it is that they called ‘home’. 

Bonus Content:

Soon as Lenoidas received word that the Sun Hashira had come to pay him and his family a visit as she promised she would, the war general invited her to sit at his table for dinner.

 Gorgo was delighted to finally meet the swordswoman who had earned her husband’s trust and saved the men’s lives. It is rare to meet a skilled warrior who is not a goddess and is humble.

Leonidas received the second shock since meeting [First Name] when she quietly revealed that she is, in fact, a divine being. Well, not exactly. More like a mortal soul who had received the blessing of a god. 

She had met Buddha shortly after ascending to Valhalla. They were good friends for a long time before marrying almost two decades ago, though the enlightened one mentioned he should have done so sooner. 

Something about rivals for her affection? 

When his wife pressed on what [First Name] meant, the swordswoman’s calm face briefly pinched into an uncomfortable expression. Inhaling a deep breath, she answered Gorgo. 

The Grecian representative of the Sun, Apollo, had approached her on the pretense that they were a perfect match because they were affiliated with the same celestial orb: bright, warm, and influential. In his mind, he believed Fate brought them together. [First Name] did not, and politely declined his proposal of a courtship.

Apollo did not give up. He was persistent in the coming days, and Buddha had almost intervened on her behalf. But it had been her own mess. So in the context of Buddha’s “lingo”, she “wiped the floor” with him. 

Leonidas had trouble breathing as he howled in laughter. That fuckin’ shithead had actually gotten his ass beaten by a divine being who used to be a mortal. 

Good. The prick deserved it. 

Taglist:

@themoonisrising

@onecantsimply

@praisethesuuun

@enryegotrip

@sarah22447

@sarcastic-cookie

@zebralover

@screechingfatdragon

@mortemorii

@myrisan-melodies

@moonreaper25

@nunezs-stuff

@diamondzoey

@dance-till-the-death

@thatstrangesheep

@puffy-bangs

@justamegafan

@zodiacs-web

@seii-fantasy

@rukia-writes

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #an idyllic novelist #record of ragnarok #ror x reader #snv x reader #snv #snv buddha #snv leonidas #ror buddha #ror leonidas #ror headcanons #ror x you #ror apollo #snv apollo #apollo record of ragnarok #platonic headcanons #yoriichi!reader

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 9)

Older! Miguel x Reader

WARNINGS: Slow burn, Relationship building, mild angst, friendship establishing, spanish learning with Miguel. Mild sexual innuendos, Age gap implied.

Summary: Instrospection and more bonding with Miguel.

A/N: Forgot to update this week. Hope you enjoy c: Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 ❤️

Previous Pt. 10

—Remember that time when we agreed to take that Accounting class but we got it canceled last minute?

Oh god, don't remind me. Statistics was worse. Nearly fail that one, nearly tear my hair out of the stress.—

—You looked cute when stressed.

                                     Ahh, shut it.—

—It's true. And look how gorgeous you've turned.

          You just wanna get in my pants—

—I'm polite enough to take you out on dates before that happens, mon cherie. ;).

—If you want to, of course.

You chuckled at the message and covered your flushed cheeks. Same sly dumbass that had asked you to date him after one of your worst days in a class. His clumsiness had been one of the things that came in handy to conquer you.

Sometimes you often wondered about the what ifs and what not with Simon. And so far he had shown you nothing but kindness and respect. He'd be straight forward. Just like Miguel.

But Miguel was a bit cryptic when it came to his words. His warnings left you pondering and surmising over your current situation. He seemed unbothered by the whole thing. Rather amused and borderline intrigued.

As if waiting for a chance to prove himself right. But in truth, it was his own way to say 'I'll let you experience this for you to trust your gut more and learn to not be so gullible over pretty words' He was teaching you a valuable life lesson without actually intervening too much. Not that you knew anyways.

A life lesson that he had learned in the worst way possible. Sometimes deciphering him was a true challenge. You thought that things would be different considering the two of you had shared his bed. Not once but twice.

And again, he seemed unbothered by it. He was cautious, a bit too reserved with certain things, but honest. A bit too blunt, but somehow, an enjoyable company despite him having the personality of a black cat sometimes.

He was true to his words of hating formalities once a line was crossed. At least he thought of you as a reliable person. Your heart had leaped a bit too fast upon hearing those words and his reassurance.

The buzz of your phone pulled you out of your thoughts about Miguel.

—Want us to go to a date? A proper one, I mean.

Simon had sent and you couldn't help but stare at the screen.

Probably in another timeline it'd be Miguel asking you such things. But in this you were sure that he was currently working, cussing in spanish to his useless coworkers in his mind. The thought made you chuckle.

He knew what he wanted. But it didn't mean you were in that personal list.

Right?

He didn't seem the type to be actively seeking for a partner either. You sighed.

You didn't know anymore. Conflicted as you were you typed back a reply.

             Sure. Next Friday night at 7. —

Maybe trying to figuring him out wasn't your duty. If he'd want something, he'd tell you. And so far the silence from his end regarding such things made it all clear. Friends. That's what you two were and his actions only reinforced the thought.

-----

"Birdie?"

"Hm?"

Hobie threw in the hoodies in a box as you packed up the ceramics and fragile objects. He had asked your help to make some little renovations here and there back in the shop.

Despite the paintings that adorned the local were cool and part of the subversive aesthetic, they were fading and were in dire need of a retouch. Just like the front desk you found him in sometimes.

"Lately you seem to be up in the clouds a bit too much. You ok?"

"Oh yeah. Just had a rough day at work. Glad I'm here."

Hobie kept putting things inside the boxes, the voice of Conor Mason echoed through the place as he sang 'Animals' with his band, Nothing But Thieves in the background speakers.

"Do you have any particular favorite food from here, Hobie?"

"Wish the rich could be edible, but doubt they'd be good tasting. They're shitty as they are." He shrugged nonchalantly, "I settle for that little dinner two blocks away on east from here. Gotta luv me a good strawberry shake and chips."

"That actually sounds good."

"Innit? Might take you and the mates one day."

You chuckled. "Sounds good."

"How's the friend making thing going?"

You put all the watercolors in a box labeled with the provider's name.

"Oh great, actually. Met with an old friend of mine. My ex from college actually"

Hobie's face deadpanned and rolled his eyes. You huffed in disbelief.

"Geez, seems everyone has an opinion on him lately"

"He's your ex for a reason, birdie. Just saying"

Your face puckered, "We were just... friends that kissed back in college if I'm honest with the status. The Boyfriend-Girlfriend thing was merely honorary"

"Still, an ex." Hobie pointed out flatly, again.

"We barely saw eachother in between classes! Then he left to his homeland to finish his career."

"And that is?"

"Industrial engineer."

Hobie's brow quirked in derision but smirked

"And what about the big bloke?"

"Big bloke?"

Hobie brought the ladder and soon began dismantling the hooks the clothes were on

"That big, mean dog looking bloke that helped you with the door?"

You giggled at his description. They'd probably wouldn't like eachother that much and would hate to be in a Get Along T-shirt.

You opened a new text chat with Miguel and typed quickly

I know you dislike texting, but I finally had the time to open up my photography profile. —

You hit send after copy pasting the link to your media profile and put the phone back on your blazer's inside pocket. He'd take a while to reply.

"Oh? You mean, Miguel? What about him?"

"What does he do for a livin'?"

"He's a geneticist"

Hobie grunted "Must be nice for him to fuck around and find out with nature."

"He seems passionate on his work. Workaholic even."

Hobie stored the ladder and sighed, "Or he's trying t'cope."

"Cope? With what?" your face puckered

"Thought you knew him." He shrugged.

Even though unintentional, Hobie's words just reminded you of how little you still knew about eachother. And so far you still kept doing the effort in knowing him more.

You groaned to your insides to then let out a heavy sigh.

" It's complicated. I'm in... We are in the process of getting to know eachother and I don't want to push him into doing things he feels uncomfortable with."

"How old is he?"

"Fourty two."

"He'd tell you if something is wrong. Still, smells like dady issues."

Your cheeks grew warmer and your eyes widened at his words.

"It's not like that! He was my teacher. My dad was pretty loving and attentive by the way."

Hobie just laughed and you hit his shoulder playfully.

"To each their own, Birdie." He raised his hands in defense, "Jokes aside, the bloke seems good. Bitter but good."

"He is."

There was a little smile on your lips that vanished as a couple entered in.

A tall, black man with honey eyes and a kind face, a little afro ontop of his head and a soft stubble, a smile that only stretched upon seeing Hobie, followed by a blonde young woman with her right side of her head shaven and her hair with a pink ombre on its tips. Hand in hand.

"Miles! My man."

Hobie smile stretched genuinely as he hugged and gave him a secret handshake.

"What's up, Hobes?"

"Hey, Gwendy."

The both gave a heartfelt hug and then Hobie gestured towards you.

"This is Runway Girl. Corporate slave"

With a playful scoff and a roll of your eyes, you introduced yourself properly with handshake. Both looked in their fresh twenties.

"Nice to meet you both."

"Ready for new paintings?"

Miles spoke as he placed his backpack on a nearby table. Hobie explained that Miles was the artist that had painted his place. That they had known eachother for a couple of years, after all Hobie had moved to Nueva York a while back, surfing through apartments until he settled in your building.

"Please tell me he's doing graphic arts in college"

"He went for physics"

Gwendy, or rather Gwen spoke as Miles and Hobie chatted through new ideas on the paintings.

"Did he?"

"Yeah, the art-thingy is just his own business."

You couldn't help but groan

"God, I feel so useless and old right now."

Gwen giggled

"Totally get you. Barely on my twenty-one and I feel like I need to step up my game. Or I'll die."

You giggled. After a while of witnessing Miles skills on the grafitti, you told everyone their goodbyes, earning a little tease from Hobie and how obedient you were for da system. But truth was that you had been skipping meal prepping costing you a little splurge of money on food.

Once home, you changed into your pj's and removed your makeup, followed by the little ritual of a skin care routine.

The constant drip dropping in the kitchen's sink made you annoyed . No matter how much you tried, the leak kept flowing.

You snapped a picture and reported it to the landlord. Just as Miguel's name popped on your screen. Fingers padded at his chat box.

—Impressive, specially these two from this album.

He sent you a picture of a tied up man, black and white. Despite the bdsm-ish undertones in it, you had kept it classy and esthetically pleasing to the eye. Those had been your first essays back in Photography 101.

The other one was a hand holding a chain, connected to the model's collar. Same black and white setting.

Didn't know you were into this sort of stuff, Mr. O'Hara —

—Told you to quit calling me that. Are these your creation entirely?

      Of course. Had to bribe a classmate with a week worth of burgers to get these pictures, he knew bondage. —

— Well, it was really worth it.

You know?... You could be a great model for me 🤔—

—No.

Not precisely this sort of theme 🙄, dummy. Just pure portraits. —

Wanna practice them. And you happen to have a photogenic face.—

—Do I now?

You sighed and rolled your eyes with a little pink on your cheeks.

                   Sure. Are you in or... —

—Lemme think about it.

You were about to type when he beat you to it.

—Gotta go. Long day tomorrow at work. You have talent. Keep it up.

                                 Thanks! GN. -

—Goodnight, guapa.

-----

Even though you were in a meeting your attention wandered to the pretty skies out the window. A mix of blue, peach and a dash of lilac painting the endless blanket of clouds above, extending past your vivid imagination.

Some clouds had shapes. Or at least you tried to create 'em. A bowling man, a fork with a huge star in it. A bee in a skull.

Your lips curved involuntarily at the mental image, within a blink of an eye you were back on the meeting. Julius sure knew how to lead a team, but when it came to speeches he'd lose a crowd's attention span almost immediately.

He dismissed your team for lunch break.

Food was enjoyable. After all, no pleasure should make feel oneself guilty. You had prepared some Asian food thanks to a new YouTube channel you had found by mere coincidence as you were trying to add new music to your playlist.

You went through your phone media while eating. You updated to some stuff, liked some posts, laughed at the dad joke level memes, and checked on your new profile media.

A couple of comments in the ethereal flower themed album, some others in L'Art Du Bondage, the bdsm aesthetic album. And to your surprise a couple of new followers. The name m.oh2099 made your brow to quirk.

You stalked the profiles but so far the only that looked like a bot was the 99 one. No data or pictures. Deciding to ignore it, you resumed back to your eating.

The scarf was almost done, and by almost done you'd mean halfway there. As much as it pained you to use the first thing you created for other purposes, you were sure that this new one would look and would be built better. With a much more less error margin and something that was actually wearable.

Your mind rambled through the thoughts and soon you were back to your work. Making briefs was like an automatic process for you at this point.

And soon, you'd continue pouring yourself over work until you reached three thirty pm. Friday evening, seemed like a good chance to wander the city again. This time however, an idea popped in your mind.

Your legs crossed underneath the table as you sorted through your contact list and dialed Miguel's number.

It took a while, he didn't pick up. But returned the call almost immediately.

"Aló?"

His gruff and terse tone made you purse your lips

"Is it a bad time?"

You heard some shuffling and papers being crumpled

"Not really"

"You sure?"

Miguel sighed, "I'm sure. What is it?"

Taking a deep breath you spoke "I was going to city wandering today, and I thought it would be fun if you'd came. To relax us a bit. You sound stressed."

His sharp cheekbones rested on his knuckles with a softer expression upon your words. He was about to bring Simon into the conversation but gave a mild grunt as his joints popped together. His ass sure was sore to be spending the whole day correcting and approving projects.

"Sure. Need to stretch out my legs. Me duele el culo de estar sentado todo el pinche día." (My ass hurt from sitting all fucking day)

He grumbled the last bit to himself with a creasing face.

"Okay? Uh, see you at the same parking lot of last time then ."

"Right."

-----

He was there when you arrived to park the car. You put the lock and walked towards him.

"Sorry for making you wait, had a little brief in last minute."

You pulled out your phone and soon both started walking. You let him to go ahead for a couple of steps. You snapped a first picture of him looking with deep eyes over his left shoulder your way. Gray strands shone under the dying sunshine rays.

" What are you doing?"

"Taking natural portraits of you."

He crossed his arms and you snapped another picture. His upper lip scowled at the suddenness of the whole thing. He wore a navy blue shirt, black dress pants and shoes with his ever trusting matching belt and his glasses.

"Let's go." You giggled and took his arm.

You snapped more on the way, He crossing the street as you snapped one behind him, earning a good shot of his back. People stared at you both as you walked by, everytime he seemed to protest, you took another picture, and that's how you both discovered a new treasure.

A little French café. The sweet and coffee aroma instantly assaulted your noses once you came closer.

"Wanna try it?"

He just pushed your lower back inside.

Large glass windows with simple decor, a warm chocolate and beige color on the walls and the outside chairs and tables, scattered in the front. The name 'Belle Vie' printed in brown san serifs capital letters on the beige large tent in the entrance.

A couple of people filled in the outside tables as the inside was full. Seeing the different desserts in display on the front made you curious.

"I'll get this one. You invited last time." You spoke as you pulled your little hand purse as he took his wallet.

"Not a fan of that."

"Too bad."

You smiled and pulled him closer. Of course, he'd order a black coffee and a slice of French flan. You asked for a hot chocolate and a croissant to dip and went outside to occupy a table.

You had already took some pictures of the desserts and the place. He smiled at your eagerness.

"I now understand why you like wandering the city"

"Hope you're having fun"

You smiled before immersing yourself into editing the pictures as your order came. You giggled with a mischievous grin as you tweaked his photos.

"I think it's polite to pay attention to the person before you, guapa"

"Gimme a minute"

Your fingers slid and tapped dexterously and he leaned towards you. He called your name with a voice you knew too well. His teaching voice.

"Yes, sir?", You blinked dumbly and snorted, correcting yourself as you looked up at him "Yeah?"

You were pulled out from the instant trance as he pried your phone from your hands with a little smirk at your default reply.

"H-Hey! "

"Pon atención" (Pay attention)

He warned you while waving his index finger at you.

You gulped and stilled. Immediately looking at his expression. Smug, but serious. Like the one he gave you when saving your ass from failing his class at the library years ago.

"May I have my phone back, please?"

"You can chat all you want with Simon later"

That broke the sudden spell as you deadpanned

"Uh, what? No! I was editing your pictures. Give it back, please."

He chuckled with satisfaction plastered all over his face.

"Quick lesson. Say por favor." (Please)

"Por favor?" You tried as your tongue rolled with the words, making him laugh gently and you to pucker.

"Glad you find my ignorance in spanish amusing."

"Ah, no te enojes, preciosa. Im just kidding" (Don't get worked up)

He cleared his throat

"Look at my lips and how they move. Try to copy that movement"

And oh you were looking. Plump lips moved as he spoke, his voice making your brain tingle.

"-Por favor"

Again, you repeated the word and he seemed pleased that you didn't butchered the phrase.

"Relax your jaw. Let loose your face muscles." One hand cupped your jaw and he squeezed softly, making your lips to pout as you giggled.

"That's better. The tongue rolls better when you're loose"

"We're learning Spanish, right?"

You both chuckled and he let your face go with a soft look in his eyes.

"Of course. Show me the pictures"

"I happen to need my phone for that."

"And what do you say?"

"Can I have my phone back, por favor?"

He smiled and handed the trinket back to your hands.

"Gracias."

His eyes widened a bit and you giggled, "Thats the only phrase my brain could keep in the past two days. "

"You're doing good."

"Gracias."

With a bashful smile you finished the retouching and showed him the pictures you took of him.

"See? You're photogenic"

It was his time to give a shy smile.

"You're not used to be taken pictures."

"I don't like em much."

"Too bad. You're a natural at this. A bit more of production, my professional camera and my. The shots I could do with you."

"You can do better than this old man."

You rolled your eyes at the comment with a scoff.

"You're not old. And you look good. I'd say you're in a beekeeping age"

His brow quirked, "What is that?"

You shrugged with a smirk "That's your homework."

The waitress apologized for delaying as she brought your order. The treats instantly filled in your lungs. She suggested to put some whipped cream inside the chocolate. That it tasted better.

You sat to replenish your energies with a contempt smile on your faces. The sky was gorgeous, you were having a good time, the drinks and treats were delicious.

You could see his tense shoulders slumping at the taste of the coffee and Flan. You snapped a final picture of him about to eat a piece of Flan.

"That's my favorite" You showed him the picture without editing. He looked relaxed and borderline inlove with the coffee taste.

"I'm keeping it."

Just as he was about to take a picture of you, his eyes wandered away snatching all his attention to something. More like someone.

Mahogany eyes trailed after hot magenta. He put the phone away as his eyes followed the woman.

"Miguel?"

His attention was elsewhere and you followed his looking. Nothing out of the extraordinary but a group of people.

A tall black man with a lovely and fashionable coat, a woman with a hot magenta pixie-punk haircut and shimmery cinammon skin doing some shops, and a group of young adults with a dog. Nothing out of the common, except the pink haired woman.

You shrugged

"She's so pretty" You'd mumble casually as you dipped your croissant on the whipped cream mix chocolate, ignoring the subtle mood swing on Miguel’s face.

His eyes casted down to his coffee, the bitterness hitting a bit too hard as he sipped it, so he took a large chunk of the Flan to appease the rioting taste buds.

You attention full on the sweetness and pastries before you.

"Thanks for coming. Means alot."

He cleared his throat with a rasp and shook his head briefly.

"Thanks for inviting me. It was good."

His attention going back to you, despite his mind chanting to look up again, and when he did, the woman was already gone.

It wasn't a hallucination. He knew what he saw. You lips moved to say something and then smile.

A flurry of questions knocked at his mind's door, the noise coming too strong and his breath hitched.

"How do you say look at me in spanish?"

"Mírame"

You nodded.

"Miguel?"

your voice was pulling him out the unpleasant trance he got himself in.

"Hm?"

"Mírame" even though the accent was still there, he looked at you. Many emotions crossed his eyes, confusion and discomfit taking the lead.

"You ok?" He nodded.

He wasn't ok. Not when ghosts of his past came back to haunt him in such a subtle way that had rattled his mind. .

"I'm fine, guapa."

For once, he lied to you.

----

Tag list:

@jkthinkstoomuch @katitakenway @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplumpurin @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann @incustellar @taeecups @vonev @kinkybandages @ittybxttykxttytxtty @del-ightfulling @tatatida @queenofroses22

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #bad teachings #t writes✨ #older! miguel o'hara #age g4p

[stararch4ngelqueen]

OR OR OR OR

soft!jason with reader with a chronic pain flare up??? (NOT self indulgent... 0vo)

Hopefully this puts a smile on your face!

—

Time written - 12:20 a.m

—

It would be a huge lie if Jason didn’t agree to the question of him going into huge research over your chronic pain. Stacks of books tucked neatly into shelves, each page worn and weathered with annotations filling each page. Multiple corners creased with neon tabs to note striking information.

Both his Google and Bing history littered with bookmarked tabs on how to deal with the pain on the heaviest of days, and how to cope when the unintentional inevitable happens.

For a man known for brawn first before brain, said in confidence via the eldest Wayne brother, Jason’s way of showing you love was acts of loving service. Whatever he could possibly do to make these flare ups just a bit more bearable.

How he’d know you were suffering first thing in the morning was your complete lack of movement. You always clung to him in some sort of way in your sleep, but raising your wrist in a desperate attempt to cover your trembling shoulders with a blanket seemed impossible. So a warm, soothing hand was more than happy to do it for you.

Jason would pepper your neck in kisses after murmuring a soft morning, then asking you a simple question: “One through ten, sweetheart?”

To him, anything higher than a three meant immediate care and aid.

Vitamins were first before breakfast, only being out of bed and out of sight long enough for him to prepare something easy for you to eat. Last thing you needed was an upset tummy due to taking pain meds on an empty stomach.

He’d become your personal heater for the next few hours, helping you change into one of your favorite shirts from his wardrobe before securely spooning you in bed, or on the couch. Arms gently cradling along your waist, fingers inches away from a heating pad’s settings along your most agonizing spots.

Whatever you wanted or needed, Jason wouldn’t mind to get:

Pain medication at the doctor’s specified dosage hour? Right after a small snack.

Heating pad not hot enough? Jason will guide his palm along the pad to gently press it onto the aching area, making sure it reached every desired nerve and muscle.

Everything tolerable enough to eat food without feeling like you’ll get sick from the pain? Jason has no issue in preparing or ordering in something he knows you’ll enjoy. He will, however, limit how much you eat. Just in case you get sick.

It’s a little challenging at times for Jason to carry you during the worst of it, as the slightest bend in your afflicted limbs can make it worse. Though sometimes, you despised laying so still for so incredibly long, feeling like a withered leaf in the sheets. Jason never pushed you, and while he wasn’t a fan of you pushing yourself, if you pushed that hard just to get a damn bath, he just had to comply.

“Just a little more,” Jason guides you with loving encouragement, allowing you to grasp along his forearms as tightly as you needed. You were haunched over, unable to fully stand at the expense of searing hot knives jamming deep into your gut, into various joints, and you couldn’t do a thing to make it go away.

“You wanna go back to bed?” Jason questions, concern spilling throughout his soft tone. You only muster the courage to shake your head before dragging your foot against the cold floor, determined to chase the promise of hot water in a confined space.

He sighs before gently reinforcing his hold on you. “Alright. Come on. My little babushka is so close to the door.”

Of course he’d make a joke here and there. Whatever it took to stoke the embers of amusement in your body.

The success of reaching the bathroom came at a cost; an agonizing cost.

An overwhelming mix of pure relief and heavy regret resorted you to tears the moment you catch a break, sitting down on a closed toilet while Jason filled the tub with hot water.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jason cradled your hands in his, fingers damp after doing a temperature check. “You made it. It’s almost full, an’ it’s gonna feel incredible.”

“It hurts,” you freely sob, tears rippling down your flushed cheeks. “I can’t, Jason. It hurts so much.”

I can’t take it. That’s what you meant to say, that’s what Jason understands as he gazed upon you with heavily sympathetic eyes.

“I know baby, I know.” Jason cooes, rubbing his thumb along the back of your thumb before lowering his head, pressing a kiss onto your cradled hands. “But you did so good today. You toughed through it, I’m so proud of you.”

Not an hour would go by where Jason wouldn’t leave you alone, letting you rely on him for anything you needed. Which also meant he’d be your shoulder to lean on inside a scalding hot bath.

“I’d imagine this must be what lobsters would feel like,” Jason chuckles from behind you, letting your tender body settle back against his chest, your shoulders nearly submerged in warm, CBD infused bath salt waters.

“Think I’ll turn red like one after this?” Jason keeps the conversation going as his hands work along the areas of your body that needed the most attention. Your upper shoulders, your abdomen, your knees and ankles, along your outer thighs. Wherever he could, he’d work on with careful and gentle hands, watching your face contort as his efforts work to ease the debilitating tension.

After an evening of such treatments, another task Jason found the most … satisfying to help you with was skincare. You’d sit on the toilet again, dressed in fresh clothes which consisted of another borrowed shirt of his, skin moisturized with towel dried hair.

Your body felt more settled than before, allowing you to keep food down better and sit up a little more properly, with less of a slouch. Your eyes remained closed, a tickle of a smile growing on your lips as your boyfriend’s calloused fingers massaged calendula cream over your cheeks.

“What?” Jason spoke up, forming a smile of his own. “What’s with that look, pretty girl?”

“Nothing,” you say. You could’ve brought up how you joke about men and their fourteen in one products, but pure sentimentality got in the way of any attempt at humor.

“Uhuh,” Jason responds, gently tilting your head up with a finger under your chin. “Did I miss a step in your complex routine?”

“No. Just really appreciate you.”

Jason’s heart melts, the blooming fire bringing a warmth to his smile. He’s just doing his job is all. It’s the least he could do for the one that reassures him that he’s striving towards being a better person. A better man, one you deserve.

“Making me blush, princess.” Jason sets all your products back where they belong and begins the process of bringing you back to bed.

You woke up in this bed in total agony, only to sink back into its soft, cozy sheets and tear dried pillows in better shape than before. The pain wasn’t completely gone, it never fully would be, the stark reminder of your personal heater trailing little circles along your thighs as you slept would always try his attempt to say otherwise.

Vigilance never really dies, signified by every kiss laid across your forehead.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x #jason todd gotham knights #jason todd dc #I don’t have these problems and I’m sorry you suffer from it! #hopefully this little Drabble make you smile

[akria23]

PromNont - Ep8

Before I get started I was very hesitant to post this one because it’s not as upbeat as my last & I really struggled with how to say what I wanted. This is just my interpretation and it was written without an ounce of sleep so if I missed anything…

We got two scenes for the pairing this time (I need more PromNont) and imma talk about both…

Starting with the pool scene, Nont is finally home having not received any good news but Prom is there to console him as promised - that man is addicted to a back hug and Nont’s shoulder like nobody’s business. It starts off well but for some reason Prom decides to tell Nont that he too cared for Nant. How aftercare was just aftercare for Nant but the best time for him & how there were times he thought Nant may have cared for him too. This of course is the total opposite of when he said that he has no feelings for Nant, that he was simply protective because of their contract. By the time he gets to talking about it wanting to see the video & theorizing that Nant may still be alive, Nont is clearly uncomfortable with just how far the conversation has shifted.

Even though I’ve spoken about Nant being a ghost between them - it wasn’t until the pool scene that I actually became conscious of the fact that the times Nont reinforced that he isn’t Nant has been an ongoing conversation with Prom since his reveal of being a twin - its typically a response to something Prom has said or done and not just a way to erect a wall.

Prom getting jealous / Prom pushing for aftercare / Prom asking him to stay

From Nonts perspective, Prom doing these things is just him using him as a replacement at best or trying to transition him into being Nant at worst, making the “I’m not Nant '' reinforcement necessary. Ever since their first confrontation where Nont accused Prom of having feelings for his twin and told him not to cross the line with him because he is not Nant, they’ve been dancing around the topic. Now there’s a real possibility that Nant is alive and could come home and the things that weren't allowed to be said are being said, there's no more skirting around it. Believing something, thinking it, is totally different from that person saying and confirming it. It makes it real, makes it more painful.

Nant’s existence feels like it eclipse everything because everything around Nont feels like his twin’s. He had to become his twin, he’s living his choices, he’s surrounded by his friends, he’s engaging with his lovers (some more than others) . His value feels tied to being Nant’s twin. When Prom was silently professing a desire to die at the concept of loss - who was that confession really for? As Nont speaks of classic love triangles he’s overtly speaking on Prom / Nant / Nuth & covertly of his own messy relationship with his missing twin’s lover that resides in that shadow as well.

By the time he gets the reactions of the Baddies he’s done. He’s decided there’s no benefit in finding a brother who doesn’t seem to want to be found, a brother he feels he doesn’t even know anymore.

——

The second scene opens up with Nont seducing Prom - uninhibited, bold, & wanton. Like usual Prom seems adept at reading Nont’s mood, everything about him says trouble before he even utters a word.

And when he does it’s to tell Prom to have sex with him like he’s Nant, how it’s written in the contract. Nont’s ever constant, “I’m not Nant” becomes “I’m Nant.” However it’s not a response to the will of Prom, instead it’s an ultimatum, almost a challenge and maybe on some levels even a punishment. He tells Prom that if he has sex with him like he’s Nant he’ll continue to look for his twin. Even when Prom doesn’t respond at first they both know it’s a yes. In fact there’s no verbalized response from Prom at all, instead he wraps his arms Nont’s neck and goes to pull him in but Nont pulls back, letting Proms hands slide down his body. It’s clear from the start of this scene til the end of it who is the dominant of the moment, who’s the one with the power.

It’s interesting, Nont started off seductively & then tempting - almost coaxing Prom to go along. But he escalates to an intensity rather quickly. A part of me wonders if he secretly wanted to leave his mark on Prom’s memories of Nant…

Somehow Prom has agreed to allow himself to be bound, blind folded and at the mercy of Nont’s hands. I cannot decide if he is silly, desperate, or very trusting. Maybe a bit of all three considering we saw Nont admit to being drunk.

A lot of people heard Nont say, “ Have sex with me like I’m Nant’ but me - I heard him say, “Fuck me like I matter”. Because essentially, I believe that was a big part of it. Yes, there is a bit of anger, bitterness, resentment - which ever word fits best to you - wrapped into this moment but ultimately he wants to feel special, important, cared for. There’s a desire l to lose himself not only in the sex itself but in returning to being the person so many around him seem to yearn for, including Prom, most certainly Prom.

Afterwards they rest with Prom at the head of the bed his feet resting on Nont’s stomach as he lays across the bed. I can’t say if this small bit of physical connection is done consciously or subconsciously. It’s obvious that neither is in a good head space, they’re not in the normal aftercare position Prom seems to favor & when Prom finally ask what Nont’s plans were for finding Nant, Nont responds that Prom must miss Nant badly. Though he may have won the last battle between them, clearly he’s not over it.

This episode seemed to be a step forward for the majority of the pairings, confirmations, confessions, apologies and forgiveness. It was also a shift for Prom & Nont’s…relationship, although I wouldn’t call it a positive one. Like I was getting at in he post, Prom & Nont have a consistent back and forth that typically goes the exact same way every time however this was the first episode we saw either of them deviate & it created a snowball of a mess that leaves neither of them satisfied by the end.

Note: There was a couple of things that surprised me in this episode - for one I was NOT expecting to see PromNant actually have sex nor did I think it was gonna be so similar to PromNont sex. Nant being a switcher was a big surprise - I thought that would be a difference but it seems they get down in the exact same way. Also was a bit lost when Nont said for them to do it as written in the contract because I knew they weren’t using the terms but I assumed they were still engaging in BDSM…unless the contract entails how exactly Nant gets to Dom / Top.

#thai bl #playboyy #playboyy the series #promnont #prom x nont #nontprom #ep8 #analysis #Nant

[whotfletamothhyperfx]

Your doodles make me wonder if tails doll is in your oz au. Like was it made by eggman to mock sonic or did sonic make it as a replacement tails?

Well technically both are right, Tails doll was originally made a few weeks after tails died so eggman could mock sonic. He wanted to show that sonic was never a good wizard, that he could never save anyone because if he couldn’t save the one kid close to him then what was the point in him even trying to be good. Its too bad for Eggman because sonic took that in the worst way possible and went full on villain mode.

He later went back and beat the shit out of eggman but when he eventually left he took the doll with him. It didn’t matter if it was just a doll version of his brother. Eggman didn’t even deserve a replica of his little brother. Because Tails was too good for eggman, he was a sweet and gentle and kind little kid that just wanted to see the good in the world.

After that whole thing Sonic started to go even more insane. Sonic got Tails doll very soon after the real tails died. Its a constant reminder pulling him back from moving on from tails death. Its also one of the reasons that he dosen’t recognise tails when he comes back to OZ he still sees tails the way he was when he was little. Tails doll reinforces that. His brother just looks so different now that its impossible for him to tell that its really tails. But even despite it the kid reminds him of his baby brother.

Maybe thats why sonic hates him more than he should. Why should this kid get the life his brother was deprived of.

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth #miles tails prower #tails miles prower #tails the fox #eggman #dr eggman #dr ivo robotnik #ivo robotnik #sonic fanart #sonic the hedgehog fanart #sth fanart #sonic au #sonic the hedgehog au #sth au #sonic wizard of oz au #sonic woz au #tails miles prower fanart #miles tails prower fanart #tails the fox fanart #eggman fanart #dr eggman fanart #ivo robotnik fanart

[whetstonefires]

I think a part of the reason I feel so connected to JGY and XY is that I, too, think everyone is lying about what a good person they are. Sure, there may be a few genuinely good people, but those are in the minority and never claim the title.

I don't know about never; some people are pretty straightforward.

And in some ways the whole point of the concept of 'a good person' is that the feeling of losing the right to consider yourself one can impose instinctive recoil from doing wrong, in situations where you don't have the leisure of working your way through an ethics diagram and choosing the logically moral path before reacting to a situation. It has practical utility.

But that system can backfire pretty horribly too, in a lot of ways. It can be hijacked by definitions of 'good' that actually make you recoil from ethical acts because they're deviant. It can lead to disappearing up your own ass lmao.

And definitely the threshold for 'talking about how you're a good person' enough that it makes you suspect as either a) a liar or b) someone who values that self-image over objective reality and other people's wellbeing is. Not very high.

Jin Guangyao, ironically, is one of those people who's so performatively A Good Person in his public life that in retrospect it looks like a red flag. Which knowing this about himself in an ongoing fashion ofc just reinforces his own cynicism about everyone else lmao.

Even Lan Xichen, who I think he may see as a genuinely good person, he also sees as an easy mark who will reliably choose what is comfortable over what is 'right,' if you just structure the scenario to make that an easy choice that's easy for him to justify.

Xue Yang's bitterness is in many ways more exciting than Jin Guangyao's because he has a way more unusual relationship to reality, but it does share a lot of notes.

The role of deception in his psychology fascinates me because as far as I can tell he's as instinctively straightforward a person as Lan Wangji, albeit along quite different lines involving a total lack of impulse control, but has adopted 'deceit' as a weapon against the wicked world in the same way he has adopted 'murder.'

But when he feels someone is not merely lying but papering over bad behavior with principles they are not living up to he is livid.

People claiming to be better than him because they're 'good' when 'good' is a construct of privilege, is the underlying idea he's not equipped to articulate. Except he takes that and applies it to 'hitting me to interrupt my random murder of some guy who happened to be within arm's reach when I wanted to hurt someone.'

Which isn't like philosophically perfect, but the underlying problem he's actually reacting to is that he understands the social contract as a lie that has never protected him but seeks to control him, while protecting rich men it has no power to control.

Which it is fair to be mad about, but then his feeling is that since that's the nature of the world and all people, he is entitled to amass for himself the power to inflict hurt without consequences as much as he possibly can, and to use it against the vulnerable for fun, and no one is entitled to interfere.

Which brings him to a place where he is violently angry at anyone talking about trying to treat other people well as a value, because either they're a hypocrite and a liar or they threaten his entire system of rationalization for why he can be The Worst and still In The Right.

'Everyone is equally bad, actually' is like, an understandable take for anyone who's had cause to become embittered. Everyone is free to make whatever philosophical peace they can with the world and by and large there's no ethical weight to any such opinion, in itself.

But it's an ideological crutch people tend to wind up leaning on very heavily when they can't or don't want to take responsibility for their own behavior.

Which is an approach that Xue Yang, Jin Guangyao, and Su She all share, and which not only is shitty of them, it...traps them in a wheel of doubling down on their own worst impulses because rather than going 'that was bad and I shouldn't do it again' they've repeatedly invested all this energy into making what they did actually the correct thing, according to their interpretation of the context. Which means they're more likely to do it again.

(I think this is how Jin Guangyao became a serial killer, for example. He followed a doing-a-murder-impulse and then internally doubled down on how he had nothing to be ashamed of, so he was more likely to do it again, every time.

Wei Wuxian's strain of self-righteousness about his revenge was less...thorough than Jin Guangyao's, because he had the benefit of going after people on the opposite side of a war from him while Meng Yao's first known murder plot was against a shitty boss. But it probably didn't help him not try to solve army-shaped problems with mass murder, even after that stopped being allowed.)

If any of them had just like, zero moral sensibilities they would have created very different problems, and very possibly fewer of them. It's making a central goal of your operations 'self-vindication in your own internal narrative, created retroactively via reframing' rather than 'figuring out what I think I should do and trying to do that' that traps them in the self-reinforcing murder pissbaby vortex.

So if you look at it one way, these three villains are themselves perfect examples of how pursuit of the 'feeling of being good' (or at least 'not the bad guy') can make you worse.

Notably Wei Wuxian was also extremely sensitive to hypocrisy in his youth; it was the only part of Madam Yu's behavior he was ever shown objecting to. But he's sufficiently mellow and cynical from regret and burnout by the 'present' timespan after his resurrection to just get disgusted and alienated about it, rather than outraged.

He wasn't even all that mad at Xue Yang, though honestly that may be partly because he stopped entirely characterizing him as a person at some point during their interaction. Like, there's no point being angry at someone whose moral sensibilities operate exclusively on the plane of 'is this unfair to me' for manipulating and destroying people who were good to him, and then getting obsessed with his own self-pity about it. This is not a person who understands how not to be, metaphorically speaking, a cannibal.

And Wei Wuxian did know better and still got roughly the same result, so what business does he have getting angry?

Anyway yeah those two villains are both delightfully relatable if you sit down and put their perspectives together; they are clearly operating with the same basic suite of human needs and emotions as everybody else, without that being in itself particularly exculpatory, which is honestly refreshing. They've just got the most fantastically toxic interpersonal habits that knowing them counts as some level of Suffering A Curse.

Jin Guangyao and Xue Yang do both stand as scathing rebukes of the society that created them. But within the narrative, wherein they're people, the fact is that each of them had agency and one of the things they chose to do with it was develop rationales for why they were the most special little guy and everything was someone else's fault.

And their moral nihilisms, while also grounded in serious trauma, ping me as emotional masturbation of this variety.

#ask #hoc est meum #Anonymous #rambling about ethics and villains lol #this isn't an organized essay but it's the best i'm going to manage #wei wuxian #xue yang #jin guangyao #meta #mdzs #this is why wwx is not that invested in how the underlying machinations made his bad choices 'not his fault' btw #spending too much time chewing your own vomit narrows your view until you can only be selfish #jiang cheng is also somewhat trapped in the pissbaby vortex #but he did get deliberately stuck there by people who loved him (his mom and wwx mostly) #and he has much higher standards than the villains about who he takes it out on and how #and there is a non-zero chance he will claw his way out post-canon #which none of those three was ever going to do no matter how much time and paradigm shifting information you gave them #so i cut him more slack

[antianakin]

So I recently rewatched Clone Wars, and season 7 was complex for me (mostly because it felt like too much Ahsoka away from the actual Clone Wars). The "Jedi don't care about the common people idea" coming from the sisters wasn't a bad worldbuilding thing since we know canonically Palpatine was trying to build dislike of the Jedi.

But the Mandalore arc where Ahsoka throws a fit because Obi-Wan and Anakin don't have time to go on a side quest for a planet that's not even part of the Republic when the literal Capital and Head Of State are being attacked? "This is why people don't trust the Jedi you only care about the core worlds." Girl took that to heart in the worst way possible.

Yeah, I think my feelings on the season 7 underlying theme is that it went too far in the direction of "the Jedi have lost their way, but Ahsoka realizes that instead of just abandoning the Jedi ways, she should re-discover the TRUE meaning of being a Jedi, unlike those OTHER Jedi who are being too political."

We all know that Filoni likes to try to promote Ahsoka as "better than the other Jedi," it's a reoccurring theme at this point and one that shows up for the first time in season 7 (chronologically at least, it would've shown up first in Rebels actually but it was slightly more subtle then. Slightly). So when Trace and Rafa bring out their sob story and then seem to blame the Jedi for what happened to their family more than, you know, the CRIMINAL WHO BROKE OUT OF PRISON IN THE FIRST PLACE, and the moral of the story at the end of both this arc and continuing into the Siege of Mandalore seems to be that the Jedi have "lost their way" because they no longer really care about the little people in the face of the war.

I think you're right that there's a germ of a good storyline here about how Palpatine's manipulations are working on the regular citizens, but the issue with this is that in order for that to be the story, the story needs to reinforce that what Trace and Rafa feel about the Jedi is WRONG, that the information they think they have is WRONG. But what we really get by the end of the arc is that they're RIGHT, the Jedi HAVE lost their way, and it's ONLY Ahsoka who realizes that and understands the true meaning of being a Jedi.

This continues into the Siege of Mandalore arc when she accuses Obi-Wan (and the Council and the rest of the Order through him) of being too political when they refuse to supply her with an army on a whim. She claims she's "not being fair" which should be an indictment against her entire argument, but it doesn't really feel like it is. It feels like we're supposed to be cheering her on, like "yeah, that's right, Ahsoka, you don't HAVE to be fair because the Jedi aren't being fair!" The Jedi no longer care about the little people and THAT'S why they won't help Bo-Katan take back Mandalore, they ONLY care about the elite in the Core and THAT'S why they prioritize Coruscant.

The issue with this entire theme is how contradictory it is across all of season 7. They claim that the Jedi only care about the elite of Coruscant when they choose to prioritize it except that the entire last arc was about the little people of Coruscant being abandoned by the Jedi in favor of going out to help other planets affected by the war. And the claim is also made in this episode that the Jedi SPECIFICALLY only care about the Chancellor's life, but then Ahsoka advocates for prioritizing Palpatine later because he's Anakin's friend or something like that. So what are we supposed to understand? That protecting Coruscant is only about helping the little people who live there when it's Ahsoka doing it? That defending and protecting Palpatine is only righteous and not about politics when it's Ahsoka doing it?

And THIS is where we get back to Filoni lifting Ahsoka up as better than all of the other Jedi. Ahsoka gets to get away with shit that no other Jedi is ever allowed to get away with. Ahsoka can be contradictory and hypocritical because she has to be right all the time no matter what the situation is because she's Ahsoka and better than everyone else. Specifically, obviously, better than all those other dumb Jedi in the Prequels Jedi Order.

I've seen people try to give benefit of the doubt to this season and claim that Ahsoka being contradictory and hypocritical is the point, that Ahsoka is still young and struggling with her feelings about the Wrong Jedi arc and figuring out who to trust, how to trust herself, and so she's being unfair on purpose and making mistakes, etc etc. And I understand that theory, but I just can't share it because at no point in either arc does it feel like I'm supposed to understand that Ahsoka is WRONG. I'd love for that to have been the story, because honestly I think there's a lot of merit to finally giving Ahsoka flaws again via the Wrong Jedi arc, showing how it's really impacted her and how much she still struggles with it and how it makes her unfair and unkind and lacking in compassion and understanding sometimes when it comes to the Jedi. That it's not necessarily the JEDI who've lost their way, but AHSOKA. If we stayed with the path that the Wrong Jedi left us on of Ahsoka saying that the person she no longer trusts is actually HERSELF, not the Jedi, that could've been great! But season 7 turns around and says "actually no, she just straight-up no longer trusts the Jedi completely but totally trusts herself just fine."

I don't HATE season 7, there's plenty I like about it, and I honestly do like Trace and Rafa and their arc (which seems to be a minority position), but it's also got a lot of things I dislike about it and it'll NEVER be within my most favorite seasons of TCW, honestly.

#tcw #the clone wars #star wars #sw tcw #ahsoka tano #ahsoka critical #ahsoka tano critical #pro jedi #jedi #jedi order #jedi council #pro jedi order #pro jedi council

[zahri-melitor]

Thoughts on the different ways Tim and Dick relate to Bruce in self-isolation mode and Batman going off the rails. Because they BOTH have a lot of experience with both situations, but react differently to it.

It’s a reflection on the observation that Dick will walk out on Bruce when he’s in grimdark mode while Tim will cling closer to try and rein him in; while as soon as someone accuses Bruce of killing, Dick refuses to believe it but Tim will be like ‘we have to seriously consider the result if he did’.

Tl;dr they are the only two Robins/ex-Robins with such deep experience with this because they’re the only two who have been left on their own to deal with a Batman being criminally reckless. Jason’s period as Robin somehow never scored a go-around of Bruce going into self-hatred mode (possibly because the amount of stories written about Jason’s period of Robin is realistically under a year’s worth, I don’t care that some timelines suggest he might have been in the costume as much as 2.5 years, there isn’t anywhere near the material for that) and Damian has always, ALWAYS had Dick and/or Tim available to defuse and redirect Bruce, and they both have patented strategies to deal with this.

While Dick acted as a (largely unspecified) handbrake on Bruce up until the grand “You’re Fired!/I Quit!” contretemps, and then developed the far more personally protective strategy of just walking away and letting Bruce deal with it on his own, as they’re both adults and he should not be required to act as emotional regulation for a grown adult. There’s not a lot of ON PANEL discussion of this, between 99% of their period as Batman and Robin being pre-Crisis and the flashbacks we’ve had since then tending to revolve around a few set pieces. But there’s a reason that Bruce describes Dick as his greatest achievement and the most important part of him being Batman. Not disappointing Dick functioned as the brake up until Dick became an adult.

HOWEVER. The only reason Dick was able to get away with his brand new strategy is not that Bruce became better at regulating his own emotions (it is to laugh). Oh no. Alfred and then particularly Tim stepped in to pick up the slack, and pretty much have never stopped since then.

Tim became Robin specifically to stop Batman going off the rails. “Batman needs a Robin”. He saw the violence and he stepped in to find a way to stop it. And when Dick refused to help out, Tim took on the role of emotional regulation buddy and essentially never stopped.

Plus, if Tim did not think the position was important, Knightfall reinforced it in the worst possible way. The arc of Knightfall, for Tim: Bruce pushes Tim away and becomes more exhausted. Tim is assigned to teach JPV how to be a hero. Bruce, trying to do too much on his own, gets his back broken. Bruce assigns Tim to making sure JPV functions as Batman. (Dick turns up for 3 pages to complain that he did not get the mantle and Tim, dealing with Bruce being injured and on a quest, his dad being kidnapped, and the realisation that Azbats is going off the rails ON HIS ASSIGNED WATCH, doesn’t have time to do anything else but sigh and go ‘yeah you’d be better but Bruce set it up this way’). Azbats locks Tim out of the cave. Tim continues to Robin his way around the edges trying to clean up Azbats going off the rails. JPV kills a Rogue and leaves a victim to die. Bruce comes back, deals with Azbats, then disappears off again, giving the mantle to Dick this time. Tim and the rest of us get to experience Prodigal. Bruce comes back again and within no time at all Tim is flinging himself on top of Harvey Bullock to protect him during a shootout in Troika.

Tim came out of Knightfall CONVINCED that his most important job as Robin was to act as emotional regulator. Especially since Alfred quit at this point. “What does a Batman who kills look like” is not an academic question to Tim. It’s not even a “well I’ve seen other timelines” thing for him. Tim has literally been the assigned Robin to a Batman who ended up killing and the death occurred, in part, because Robin couldn’t hold him back.

It’s also notable to me that that one time Tim HAS tried Dick’s “let him deal with it himself” strategy, that was the run of ‘Tec and Batman between Officer Down and Bruce Wayne: Murderer. Alfred had quit again (and was living with Tim at Brentwood, while Bruce refused to go near Alfred). Tim was ignoring Bruce because he told Steph Tim’s identity. Bruce literally only had Sasha Bordeaux (and Steph for a bit) as assistance. And what happened? Bruce ended up accused of murder and was arguably off the rails enough that he COULD have done it, given how much he wasn’t talking to anyone.

Tim has never ever risked that again. He was only able to quit following his 16th birthday for a couple of days before he went straight back to Bruce, not even expecting an apology. Following War Games, War Games, when Tim’s so heartbroken and tired he has to leave Gotham and moves to Bludhaven, Tim is still talking to Bruce and seeing him regularly, because Bruce is all by himself in Gotham again and Tim knows that’s a recipe for him falling off the rails again.

This is part of what I think is at the heart of the debate between Dick and Tim over “growing up and out of being Robin and finding your own identity”. Dick is convinced that you can safely leave Bruce to his bullshit when he’s going off the rails, because Dick was able to walk out and it went fine (Bruce found himself Jason and was just fine…right up until Jason died, but they all got past that time! Bruce doesn’t need this level of coddling! You cannot find who you are apart from Bruce unless you give yourself that separation!), while when Tim tried, Bruce got accused of murder and decided he was going to abandon the whole identity of “Bruce Wayne” until he got his ass kicked by enough family members over how stupid he was being. Tim doesn’t think it’s safe. Tim’s seen Batman and seen Bruce ‘die’ too many times when he needed rescue.

Tim knows Alfred won’t always step up to the role. He’s quit twice and is now dead. Tim knows Dick refuses to act as an emotional regulator for Bruce anymore. Tim simply doesn’t TRUST anyone else with the role as they’ve never had to actively deal with it on their own, and being part of the bigger network is very different to being The One.

And I think this is part of why Tim cannot move himself on. He doesn’t trust Bruce to cope. Even if there are approximately a dozen other Bat folk around to step in if Bruce starts his self-isolation cycle again. Because too many of them historically have gone “well screw you too” when Bruce started the cycle, and the 13 year old kid who talked Batman down from being too violent with criminals, and the 14 year old kid who was left to control a Batman experiencing religious psychosis and got strangled in the process, and the 15 year old kid who hung off Nightwing’s arm to stop him punching the Joker one more time, who left Batman to his own devices only for him to be framed for murder and refuse to try and get out of it, and the 16 year old kid who realised if he quit and left Bruce would never speak to him again so he swallowed it down and reached out again and again and again even as he was hurting, in the worst year of his life, and the 17 year old kid who refused to believe Bruce could be dead and went to find him, damn the consequences to himself? That kid cannot walk away because he KNOWS THE PRICE and he knows what it costs to pay it and he doesn’t trust anyone else to do so.

(yes, Tim should be allowed to have an arc to move away from this dynamic. But I understand why he can’t, and DC will have to have someone ELSE take over the role or commit to writing ‘Batman goes off the rails’ plots where Bruce provides his OWN emotional regulation that pulls him back ahahahahahaha like that will occur)

#dc meta #tim drake #dick grayson #Dick cares deeply but knows inside Bruce can get through it #Tim is convinced it will all fall apart again if he lets go #they both have solid personal evidence that this is the case #I believe Tim can move on! but the writers need to let him grapple with this

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

kinda fucked up for you to see a gender non conforming woman (samsus) and automatically make them trans. you get what i mean about how thats just reinforcing gender stereotypes (that cis women are feminine and would never commit genocide even a little while transwomen would do masculine evil things like shoot gun (because they’ve kept their man vibes) or whatever

yeah

I can’t tell if this is like a shitpost or a really poorly worded commentary because I have no idea who you are. Frankly I would normally assume the worst block you, buuuuut since I like talking about it I’d love to explain why Samus Aran is extremely transgender.

Tbh I am still tempted to block you but the terrible grammar, spelling error, and nonsensical nature of the ask almost make it seem like a shitpost

First of all Samus being trans-coded was very core to her character from the very beginning. Regardless of the reasons they did it, the original Metroid was intentionally made and marketed to have people assume she was a man. This isn’t even just because people would see a person in a power suit and assume they were a man, the games manual explicitly refers to Samus with he/him pronouns. The immediate assumption that she’s a man because she’s tall, broad shouldered, badass, and wears a power suit that obscures her feminine features until the big reveal is inherently a trans theme. Taking that away makes her a less compelling character. It’s also continued in that Metroid media has continually joked that a lot of the Galaxy assumes that Samus Aran, the greatest bounty hunter in the Galaxy, is a man.

Secondly there was that one Metroid dev who said in an interview that Samus was transgender. The terminology used was outdated and it was explicitly a transphobic joke, but it’s too late she’s ours now.

Thirdly she is (was) built like one of us. That is, prior to the later zero suit designs trying way too hard to be sexy. Like seriously when I first found this image a few years ago I was the same height and weight as her. I miss the big buff broad shouldered Samus design so much and her later redesigns are honestly kinda pathetic by comparison

Fourth, Samus was raised by the Chozo and trained to become a powerful warrior. Part of what they did to make her strong was body modification via Chozo DNA splicing to make her stronger and more agile than a normal human. This is a sci-fi setting where she was raised by an extremely advanced alien race who could change her very DNA, acting like she couldn’t look like she does and be a trans woman is simply not even an argument.

Now, of course, you could refute all this by saying “but Cordelia, we know what Samus looked like as a kid from Metroid Zero Mission and the manga and she was clearly a little girl not a boy.” Now even without addressing the fact that it’s very possible for people to realize they are transgender as children and that children don’t even really have secondary sex characteristics to make it easy to tell what their gender is, this what Samus actually looked as a child:

The combination of all of this gives us trans women a lot of good reasons to believe she is transgender. But also, literally none of this is necessary for me to headcanon a character as trans. Trans women come in all shapes and sizes with all different stories and not a single thing in Metroid canon even remotely suggests that Samus Aran has to be cisgender. And if you try to say “but Samus has no bulge in canonical zero suit Samus depictions!” you’d have to be intentionally dense. Samus Aran is a chimera with a cocktail of human, Chozo, and Metroid DNA and, again, was raised by a race of super advanced aliens. Not only could they have easily given her bottom surgery, but they could’ve even changed her fucking sex chromosomes if she wanted them to. There is literally nothing in Metroid canon that even remotely gives me a reason not to insist that she’s transgender. To be honest, there is more evidence for her being trans than against.

To anyway anyone who actually read this far, I hope you understand the truth. Nintendo’s redesigns are too afraid to show us, but you and I both know that her cock is huge

#Samus aran #Samus #Metroid #trans samus

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (December 31, 2023-January 6, 2024)

Episode 9 of Monarch: Legacy of Monsters was a huge one, wrapping up the flashback storyline with gut punch after gut punch and dropping half the cast into a new realm of the Hollow Earth, Axis Mundi. I'm being vague because there's a very big twist at the end. Chomping at the bit for the finale.

@quazies has graced us with another animated Godzilla short, this one focusing on Rodan and wringing surprising emotion out of the daffy bird. And I continue to get a kick of out this Animal Crossing-esque Monster Island. This is their fourth Godzilla video; if you're unfamiliar with them, correct this immediately.

The new issue of TotalFilm has a sizable article on Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire. My notes:

Trapper (Dan Stevens) is a sort of Titan veterinarian.

Emphasis on filming in real places; the Hollow Earth is a mixture of Greenland, Iceland, Hawaii, and Australia. Also mentions some sort of physical Kong prop and another full-sized HEAV.

Apex isn't in this story "in a literal way," but Monarch seems to have copped some of their tech; Kong's B.E.A.S.T. Glove is implied to be one example. Sort of disappointing that the Monsterverse continues to avoid having a recurring human villain, but then it would've been hard to keep Apex in the picture, between the Mechagodzilla scandal and all their key members dying.

Rome is mentioned as a location in the film, which was reinforced this week with a Japanese trailer showing Godzilla astride the Colosseum prior to his evolution. As a half-Italian, I'm thrilled.

Wingard is aiming for late-Showa Godzilla vibes. Not possible on a nine-figure budget, says I, but I'm curious to see what he comes up with. Adds that he "wanted the color palette of the film to resemble the experience of what it was like to walk down a toy aisle in the 1980s[.]"

Wingard on Skar King: "[He's], in a way, the closest that the human threat has ever been juxtaposed onto a titan itself. The Skar King almost represents an upscaled version of the worst parts of humanity, just as Kong represents some of the best parts of humanity."

Now, about that cover... they're doing the bisexual lighting on purpose at this point, right?

The new Godzilla Battle Line units are Orga and Kiryu Kai (Heavy Arms Type). Orga's pretty fun, dropped into the arena by the Millennian UFO and respawning with half health once defeated. The new Kiryu is a major addition, dealing 30% more damage to units that cost 7 energy or more.

This is my first Kaiju Week in Review covering 2024; for a look back on all that happened in 2023 in kaiju film, television, and video games, I'll refer you to this excellent video by @zagorudan. @vintagehenshin has one out on indie tokusatsu as well.

This is a year ending in "4", so a lot of Godzilla movies have big anniversaries on the way. The biggest, of course, is Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, turning 50 on March 21. Toho wasn't celebrating golden anniversaries in earnest when the other non-Godzilla members of the Big Five reaches theirs, so expect a Full Weapon Strike of merch, comics, and short films. We already know Mechagodzilla's in the next Godzilla Rivals issue, though not top-billed. Ultraman Leo, ESPY, Evil of Dracula, and Prophecies of Nostradamus also turn 50 this year.

#kaiju week in review #monarch legacy of monsters #godzilla x kong the new empire #godzilla vs. mechagodzilla #godzilla #kaiju

[sonicjustbecause]

3 kinds of narratives (character developments etc).

I'm not criticizing. I'm just pointing what can be best for each storytelling style:

Sonic Boom, AoStH - Episodic, no character development:

Those slice of life episodes in general work well without character development. In a way they leave great freedom to show all sides of a character (if the character is delberately deep), or just few traits of a character and how he deals with different situatuons. Like...

Usually stressful situations are used to reinforce characters trait/weak point rather than letting them overcome their fear. For example in Sonic boom, Sonic was forced to learn to swim and gets to face all his fears in the worst way possible. Concluding with 'No way, I don't go near the ocean anymore!'.

Usually in this style of storytelling, old episodes are never referenced.

Sonic Prime: just a single story, divided by episodes. Character development is the core:

In a single story, character development is mandatory. If in stories like Sonic Boom, we want to see new adventure (and this doesn't means we don't care about the characters but we know what they will do) in shows like Sonic Prime, we want to see how characters overcome their issues. Characters will either learn from their mistakes or they will fall into the darkness. They don't change their base personality but they improve in their worst weak spots. They don't have to overcome all their flaws, just one. We aknowledge in Sonic prime that Sonic fears three things: water, loneliness, Eggman winning.

Sonic does not overcome his fear of water because that is easily avoidable. But he doesn't take in account the other two things can also happen, until they don't truly happen. By the end of Sonic Prime, Sonic still don't like to be lonely or Eggman winning, but is better equipped to not make those things come true.

Sonic X, Sonic SATaM, Sonic Underground: Something in between.

Those shows are hybrid. There are slice of life parts that switch to full sagas and then go back to slice of life style storyttelling. Past episodes may be referenced. They may contain character development or not, they also offer the freedom to develop characters when required only to lock and estabilize them later.

Sonic OVA has elements of single story and hybrid episodes/single story thinghs.

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic #shadow #sonic prime #nine #tails nine #eggman #tails the fox #sth #sonic ova #Sonic X #aosth #sonic satam #bunnie rabbot #satam #archie sonic #sally acorn #amy rose #narrative #character development

[mindibindi]

No Place like Home...? 🌈

So what...Ted Lasso just goldfishes his way into forgetting about his big diverse found family so that he can return to humble, hometown heteronormativity? Look, I get that "be a goldfish" is a cute moment from s1 and an idea that has some (limited) practical value. But isn't it also emblematic of Ted's initial overly positive attitude which ultimately just served to ignore difficult emotions, interactions or situations? This is his big advice to his son and his parting words to his audience? Wasn't the whole point of his time in Richmond and his return to his son to establish and encourage an alternative kind of masculinity? One that expresses, not represses? One that deals with difficulty maturely rather than just avoids it? One that actively and ethically chooses rather than simply doing what's always been done?

Honestly? There was plenty of stuff about the finale that I really liked. Colin's kiss was the best bit. That godawful wedding moment the worst, for many reasons. But I'm unsure how to even read Ted's ending, and not in a oh-gosh-it's-so-rich-and-ambiguous way but in a whaaaa....???-this-is-not-consistent-storytelling-this-is-missing-the-mark-for-me kinda way. When Ted looks at the camera, are we supposed to feel happy for him? Happy that he is happy? Is it a happy ending? Is he happy?? He doesn't look happy. Or sad. Or content. Or much of anything really. He just looks kind of vacant. Which is how he looked most of the episode. The final game (which wasn't even the final game and I suppose they justified not showing it for "creative" reasons, okay, sure, whatever) was the only time he looked engaged, and even then it wasn't fully. Most of the time, he did look like a gaping goldfish with a 6-second memory.

When it was time to say goodbye to everyone, there was no sense of nostalgia for the past 3 years and no sense of those relationships continuing. There were no promises or assurances of visits or skypes or calls. Phones, planes and the internet suddenly ceased to exist (when they'd served him and Henry quite well up until then). While the corniest song choice ever played (yes! we get it! the sacred struggle of fatherhood! GAAAHH), one family was sacrificed for another because both couldn't possibly co-exist. Two things at once makes brain hurty. After all the good work they did around dismantling traditional models of masculinity, in the end they reinforced a version of masculinity which centred supposedly noble self-sacrifice rather than ethical self-actualisation, regression over growth and singularity over plurality.

Sure, it bookends the series poignantly, if predictably. And truth is, Ted leaving Henry was baked into the premise of the show from ep 1. It's actually a pretty big emotional leap to take with a character but, as the audience, we made that leap because we understood that this extraordinary move away from his son was necessary for adventure, narrative and growth to occur. In real life, this move would've been highly questionable (esp for a female parent). But we are in a fictional reality here so we are bound as well as freed by the rules of genre, character and narrative. Without Ted leaving Henry, there is no story. We also understand that Ted's adventures will ultimately benefit Henry, who gets a dad who is fully engaged, professionally challenged and supported by a community of like-minded peeps who think he's super cool. By sending Ted back (or at least sending him back in this way), it implies that there is no more story to tell, Ted's story is over, his growth is done. It robs him of further growth and adventure, robs his son of a happy and fulfilled dad and robs the audience of imagining future failures and glories all shared by an indefatigable Richmond FC.

The whole point of this show was to show Ted building a new life, home and family after the disintegration of his marriage. This marriage did not provide the space or opportunity for him to heal childhood wounds or expand as a man. He was a small man, living a small, limited, conventional life. Which would be okay, if he wasn't suffocating in the process. He needed to find a bigger pond. It's possible that Ted's panic attacks were not a sign that Richmond was unhealthy or overwhelming for him. It's possible that there, he could breathe for the first time in years, he had the time and space to feel his feelings, pay attention to his past pain, move up and out and onward. Are we supposed to believe after that 3 years away and maybe 1 of therapy that that's it? He's done now, all healed, squared away? What exactly has changed in Kansas to assure us that he will be any happier there than he was prior? Henry was there then too. Little has changed with Michelle. His mum delivered some food and guilt then left. The show hasn't spent enough time in Kansas to assure us of Ted's happiness or continued growth. Literally, all we know is Henry is there. And BBQ sauce. (And Michelle's boyfriend has turned into a dick suddenly, conveniently).

What we do know well is what Ted is leaving behind. A rich and challenging world, wacky and wonderful experiences with a diverse community, a loved and actively loving chosen family. So are we supposed to read this ending like "The Wizard of Oz" which has the most disingenuous final line in movie history? Yes, Oz has some dangerous territories and menacing figures (represented by Rupert etc). But Oz is also where Dorothy's friends, her found family are. Oz is in bright technicolour. It's surprising and bizarre and bright. It's larger than life and full of weird characters and unexpected episodes. Oz is where we all want to be, to live, to stay. Richmond is Ted's real life Oz. It's where we want to be and want him to stay, even if only in our imaginations. In the finale he says: "There's no place like home but there's no place like Richmond either" (or something similar, only watched it once). This implies that Richmond is not his home, that homes are just where you come from. Homes are not found or created or collaborated on together. They aren't malleable, moveable. They aren't out there in the wild, potential beyond. They are behind us always, defining us by our often sad pasts.

Again, this idea is entirely contrary to the premise of the show and the progress of its characters who banded together under Ted's leadership to create a home, a family, a community. Unlike Ted's small, conventional family unit, his found family is queer-coded (as all found families are, since they suggest an alternative to traditional nuclear family units based on shared biology but not necessarily values). Logical families are the family you find after you have been ejected from the traditional biological family unit. They are sought and created, based on common interests and mutual support. They are made up of people who are likewise separated from their homes, due to distance, circumstance, fracture, whatever. The home world is displaced, but it is still home (and all the more precious for it). In this case, the queer-coded found family of TL includes and celebrates LGBT+ folk (took a while for them to get there but eventually they did), women, people of colour and any man choosing to do masculinity his way. This is the environment the show set up. This the environment the creators invited us into. This is the environment Ted left behind.

Now, I do think there could have been a way for Ted to return to Kansas and Henry (but not Michelle) that would have been consistent with and faithful to this initial set-up and its themes. But that isn't what we got. Like Dorothy waking up to a dingy black and white world where there's nothing to do but talk to your dog about all the adventures you long to have over the rainbow, Ted's Kansas looks grey and dull and muddy. And Ted looks like he only half-remembers the most vivid and important things he's ever seen and done. "Be a goldfish" is a useful idiom for dropping baggage that weighs you down. If you burn your tongue on your coffee but don't wanna be irritated all day, then it works. It doesn't work for a scenario in which you need to deal with the reality that you and your co-parent/ex have carved out very different life paths. Simple, wilful ignorance is not a solution to the sort of complex family circumstances that grown adults face every day. Just forgetting the past 3 years and moving on like nothing ever happened does not in any way guarantee Ted's happiness or his success as a father. Attempting to find fulfillment through that one! special! person!! is unlikely to end well. Whether it's a parent, partner or child, the burden on them is unfair.

Ted's predicament is a huge one but it's also one that has been there from the very beginning. They had 3 years and 30+ episodes to resolve it satisfactorily, using all of the freedoms that fictional realities can afford. And yet, when Rebecca brings up the various ways in which she is willing to adjust to Ted's fatherhood, these suggestions are made to sound ridiculous, impossible and totally futile. But are they? Are they anymore outlandish than any of the other highly optimistic plot points they've gleefully included? Ted flourishes personally and professionally in this milieu. And had they made a move earlier in the series, Henry could also have integrated into it and benefited greatly from it. (He clearly enjoys the club when he's there). As Rebecca implies, Ted has the opportunity to offer Henry a richer, wider and more diverse view of the world than he would otherwise have. He would have access to a queer-coded community that includes and celebrates, experiments and strives. He would see his dad loved, celebrated and supported. This show takes some BIG optimistic swings. If audiences were able to make the emotional leap of accepting Ted leaving his son in ep 1, then they can probably be trusted to make the leap of him staying, esp. if the writers took the time each season to establish how they will manage their relationship and the benefits each will glean from such an arrangement.

After all, Ted is not one to back down from a challenge. Taking the job at Richmond was a bold and brave move. This is the same man who pledged to "win the whole fucking thing". This is the same man who looked Rupert Manion in the eye then promptly whipped him at darts. But when it comes to distance co-parenting, he's not even open to suggestions? No "I appreciate you" for the boss/bestie, just oh-so-sage resignation? Please. These writers set up this predicament then refused to resolve it in a satisfactory way. Instead, they reduced Richmond FC to a dream and Ted to a memory-challenged goldfish who flails about when faced with the reality of a pre-existing predicament of his own creation. He rejects the help of others who could actually provide real-world solutions. Nor does he seem to register the possibility of a mature relationship with a woman who wants him and connects with him. Instead, he chooses to forget, keep swimming, paddle backwards -- not onward, not forward. He has a big pool, a new home, a found family that represents human complexity and plurality. But he chooses the small, simple and singular. A traditional three-part family unit that was supposed to make him happy but never did. He had his little holiday jaunt in technicolour land, a fun lil detour into an expansive rainbow family community. He came in, tinkered about with some people's problems: gave a middle-aged woman confidence here, supported a sad gay there. But rainbow families are not just a temporary playground for white cishet dudes with a saviour complex to get their own admirable values reflected back to them. In the end, Ted's found family had something absolutely vital to teach him that he did not stick around long enough to learn.

#ted lasso #ted lasso finale #ted lasso tv #ted lasso season 3 #spoilers #jason sudeikis #brendan hunt et al #ted should have stayed #ted x rebecca #btw this is airing during pride week/month while some parents are trying to keep their kids from learning about the big bright queer world

[natalisdragon]

Have you noticed that the two post-credits scenes in Bucchigiri?! are similar? It may be obvious, but it is no coincidence, both are moments between friends, TWO FRIENDS, sharing a very personal moment together. Here we can appreciate some things regarding both friendships, they show trust, loyalty, sincerity and above all, equality. We could say that it's the type of relationship that Arajin and Matakara should share at this point if they hadn't separated, or in any case, if they had reconciled in a healthy way.

Arajin was so engrossed in how it made him feel to have abandoned his best friend and at the same time betrayed the foundations on which their friendship was based (the principles of a honki person) that he never asked himself how his friend felt about it. Deep down he worries about Matakara, to the point that just remembering what he did to him causes him physical discomfort. Wanting to push him away is not because he no longer cares, but rather an instinctive response of rejection of a trigger related to his trauma.

Matakara, for his part, has his own problems. The story has shown us that he always had a dependence on his brother as he was his only close relative, or at least the one he trusted the most. Then comes Arajin, the only person besides his brother that he allows himself to trust. During that time, Matakara puts Arajin on a pedestal, being (surely) his first true friend and first significant connection outside of his family, but eventually the incident we all know happens and Arajin abandons him. Matakara was most likely so heartbroken that he preferred to blame himself for what happened, reinforcing his feelings of inferiority, dependence on his brother and creating a (perhaps) subconscious fear of trusting other people again (something confirmed by Zabu's face during episode 10, surely realizing that he really didn't know his friend as much as he thought), while at the same time, Arajin's memory becomes more and more mythologized, which only gets worse in the fight between Arajin and Marito, which only confirms his own blindness, making the moment of confession much more painful for him.

Obviously neither of them was psychologically prepared for their reunion, because neither had the tools to open up about what happened, and when Arajin decides to do so, he doesn't do it with the intention of taking that necessary first step towards reconciliation, but rather as a way of distancing himself from the source of his trauma, at the worst moment and in the most hurtful way possible, totally blind to Matakara's suffering, who, seeing himself completely deprived of any support, begins his descent into the abyss.

Many talk about how Arajin must open up and allow himself to be vulnerable in order to save Matakara and reconcile, but that also applies to Matakara, who if we look at it, has strongly refused to do so. Although his friends in Minato Kai worry about him, his first reaction after his brother's incident is to isolate himself. He has always been someone strong, honest and reliable, he is that friend you trust in difficult times, not only because he is like that, but because it's what he feels is expected of him and what he demands of himsel. To be able to be like the Arajin he remembers, for his brother who believes he can become the honki person he wants to be, because he is the younger brother of the legendary former leader of Minato kai. All of this has created an enormous weight on him, which surely helped the shadows that stalked him to remain close to him, even when he seemed to be more stable.

This is where we return to the topic of the other two friendships., Marito and Outa for example. In Siguma, their positions as leader and second in command are clear, however, it's more than evident that between the two there is a relationship of equals, where we can appreciate a complete and unquestionable loyalty towards each other, having a fairly strong and solid bond. Kenichiro and Mitsukuni seem to have a similar relationship, the way in which the second one shares his future plans goes beyond a simple conversation between a leader and his successor, but between two people who understand and respect each other. Both are relationships where, although they do not say it explicitly, share great affection, which is what Arajin and Matakara should aspire to in the future. A friendship founded not on the childhood desire to become a honki person, but on the mutual appreciation and affection that they share.

#bucchigiri?!