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danses-with-dogmeat · 7 months

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Day 26 -- Vault Tec Rep

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 26 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Pregnancy with Vault Tec Rep x f!Sole

This poor man deserves a damn break, and so here's this! The vault tec rep seems to have a little following of people that love him, and I'm here for that. If he's a sad ghoul, I love him too, darn it. So, here's a bit of love and softness for this sweet guy.

I hope you like it! <3

*Also, just a note, I used the name that Death Shroud headcannoned for him, cuz I couldn't fathom writing "vault tec rep" 70 or so times 😅 Plus... it's not the most romantic name in the world for someone to call their partner by.

"Oh, vault tec rep, please keep loving me!" Yeah... no.

So his name is David Dwecker. But feel free to give him any name you see fit! I really did like that name for him though, so that's what I went with.*

and if you haven't seen/heard Death Shroud, do yourself a favor and give it a watch! chadfallout76podcast is the creator, so be sure to check out their blog as well! I would link him here, but... He doesn't need to see this, lol.

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Pregnancy, pregnant sex, dancing, kissing, lovemaking, tiny bit of a voice kink, body worship, little bit of a belly kink, fantasies, simultaneous orgasms, creampie, aftercare, cuddling, so much sweetness, it might give you a bellyache.

Words: 4k

Blue, speckled beams of light poured through the half-open window, bathing the room and highlighting the points of Sole’s face, the wisps of her hair, drifting with the pair’s subtle movements over the living room floor. Soft, sweet tunes, so delectable he could very nearly taste them on his tongue, weaved through the air, caressing their ears and setting their souls alight with romance.

She was warm and plush in his grasp, her arms wrapped around him tightly, hanging on his shoulders as the pair swayed with the delightful melody. Though Sole's face was a bit too far from his for comfort, it was a necessary deprivation, David supposed. The need for that distance being the great swell of his love’s stomach pressing into his as they leaned in close as they could.

The Vault Tec representative hummed along with the tune, some well-known romantic din with Sinatra or Nat King Cole or someone of the like, but he was too focused on her to decipher the exact words, the correct artist. David could feel the fatigue beginning to drag at her, felt her weight resting more heavily on his shoulders, and he felt his hands grasping more tightly to her hips, to help steady her pace, her steps, as they swayed about the room.

It was something he always made time for. No matter the work, no matter the life disasters and the fleeting time, he and Sole were never to miss a date night; and what was a date night, without a dance? Without song? Without this blissful closeness?

He swears, her state only made it more necessary.

She was everything to him, even when she wasn’t holding his very future within her. Now, though? He wondered if there was anything he wouldn’t do for her.

“You really are perfect, love.” David whispered, and heard her smile in the way she sighed.

“I don’t feel perfect.” She mumbled, looking down at nothing in particular. “I feel bloated and clumsy and sore and tir–”

“Sweetheart," He interrupted gently, "Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’d felt her growing heavy, sure, knew that she was fatigued, that bedtime was definitely upon them very soon– sooner every night as the months passed– but sore? She was in pain, and still danced with him?

“Come here.” Gently, David stepped back, keeping his hands in place as he began to guide her to their bedroom.

“I’m a little sore, not helpless.” She chided lightly, as he helped her take a seat at the foot of the bed.

David only shook his head as he bent to his knees and pulled her slippers from her undoubtedly aching feet. Despite her weak protests, Sole’s head fell back with a sigh as he began to massage over her and ease the soreness within.

The room was cool from the breeze that blew inside from the open windows. David could smell blossoms in the air, whatever grew below their bedroom window, so light and fragrant. The room was dim, with only one bedside lamp to keep the night at bay, but it cast a warm glow that only emphasized his love’s natural radiance. Crickets sung outside, frogs croaked from their place down by the stream, life teemed all around them and lulled him into a deep sense of safety, of belonging.

It felt… unfamiliar, fleeting almost, and something pressed to the back of David's mind, like a knock at the back door, like someone speaking to him through water, he couldn’t quite make it out.

Sole’s hand grabbing his shoulder pulled him from those thoughts easily, and they blew away like winter leaves.

“I can hardly feel my feet now, after that.” She smiled warmly, if not tiredly, her eyes half-lidded. “Thank you, baby.”

“No trouble at all, love.” His hands moved up her calves, squeezing and kneading as they went. “Any more… requests while I’m, um, down here?” He ended his question with a chuckle, as fizz seemed to bubble and tickle in his stomach.

You’d think, after all this time, as many times as we’ve been together, I wouldn’t get so flustered at the mere thought of it.

He couldn’t blame himself though, not when his Sole was, well… she was his everything. His home, his happiness, his family, his love, all wrapped into one.

David didn’t know a single person could be so many things to him.

“Kiss me?” Sole spoke up in a quiet voice, one that sounded just as bashful and breathless as he felt.

Another boon of her current state, he thought to himself, as his lips immediately pressed to the bare inside of her thigh. She was so needy when she was pregnant, she made him feel like a different man, one worthy of those heady desires. Not like he usually felt, like some Joe Schmo who’d only ever existed on the other side of someone’s front door. A man in a suit and a hat. No discernable personality, no passions beyond his subpar job.

She made him feel wanted, exceptional, desirable on more than a ‘average man who has a steady job’ level. It was a biological one, instead. She wanted him, in every way a woman could. And she wanted him, she chose him to be with, even with every possible alternative out there available to her.

That, beyond all things, made him feel truly... feral.

It was a state David Dwecker didn’t know he could find himself in, not ever in his life, but it was how he felt in this very moment.

He fought with that instinct as much as he could, taking his time moving up her body, being gentle with her, despite the way his hands shook and his breath picked up with desire. Her words had been clear, but vague at the very same time. Kiss her, yes, he could very much do that, but where? Down where he was kneeling? Should he rise up and capture her lips with his, kiss over her rounded belly? Should he just opt for all of the above?

Sole didn’t seem to protest, when he did in fact, decide to act upon that final thought. David’s lips traveled up over her thigh, his hands following the movement, asking, as they reached the hem of her sleep dress. His eyes met hers, voicing a silent question with raised brows, and she nodded, her expression already ripe with yearning.

His fingers glided along the soft fabric, swiping it up over her stomach, revealing her bareness beneath it. David felt his breath catch at the sight of her, her little belly button, mere days away from popping from the pressure of her growing stomach, squiggly marks lining the skin there, so lightly, so endearingly, her sweet folds, already glistening with that want that always astonished him.

“Beautiful.” He rasped out between kisses, “So beautiful.”

He felt the slight raise of her stretch marks against his bottom lip, and her belly quivered from her catching breaths. She didn’t have it in her to refute him now, not with arousal bubbling up inside her.

Sole’s hands went to his head, one caressing the back of his neck, while the other had fingers digging into his scalp, massaging him back in her own way.

Soft music drifted in from the living room, romantic and sweet as it met his ears. Her growing sighs and breaths were no less melodic to him, and he felt heat building and building beneath his skin. As such, David’s kisses became feverish, more hurried as his hands reached her chest and his mouth followed close behind.

Sole raised her arms up for a moment, allowing him to pull the dress completely off over her head. He couldn’t even pause to take her in, as he almost always did. Instead, his lips went straight to her now-bared breasts, mouthing over the warm mounds softly, so as not to hurt her.

David knew the way they must ache, and by the way she gasped as his lips dragged over a nipple, he held himself back from his over-impassioned appreciation of them. His arms braced on either side of her head, holding his body up enough that he wouldn’t put any unnecessary weight onto her, and finally, his lips moved upwards to meet hers.

This kiss was different from the others, sloppy and unrushed, exploring each other like they hadn’t a hundred times before this, and he felt affection wash through him, felt it ebb and flow like ocean waves within the sheltered harbor of their shared contact. Sole’s hands returned to him, nagging at his cotton t-shirt, until he pulled back to remove it in a flash. His lips returned to hers in an instant, incapable of being away from her any longer, as she gratefully explored his skin, running her fingers like lit matchsticks over his flushed chest, his heaving shoulders, and trailing blazing marks over him. David pulled breaths in between his teeth, straight from her mouth to his, tasting every last bit of her, of the dessert they’d shared, of the nighttime tea she’d sipped while he’d readied the radio for their dance. He savored all of it like this would be the last time he had the chance.

“I love you, darling.” He said into her, and Sole released a whine that sent surges of energy through every vein in his body. “There isn’t a single thing about you that I don’t love.”

“Mm, love you too, honey.” She gasped out her response, and he pulled back to let her catch her breath. “Need you. Need you, David, please.”

Her hands squeezed at his shoulders, dragged over the soft swell of his chest, pressing there and encouraging him downward.

He smiled, feeling a sort of prideful contentment swell inside him.

She needs me.

“Where, sweetheart? Where do you need me?”

Sole bit her bottom lip so prettily, looking away with a shy little grin; and though, at that point, she didn’t need to answer for him to know what she wanted, David waited with his brows raised in expectation.

“You’re being rude to your wife, Mr. Dwecker.” She said with a pout, and he could only chuckle, giddy at the way she spoke to him. The way she called him her husband.

It'd been long enough that he should be used to it by now, but how could he be? Every day with her was a novel event.

“No, come on, sweetheart.” David braced himself on one hand, so the other could press to one soft cheek, and turn her eyes back to meet his. “Tell me where you need me.”

A roll of her eyes and a bit of a whine later, and finally Sole broke.

“Need you in me, baby. Need you inside, need your… your cock.”

David’s breath caught at that, at her words. They were more than he could’ve hoped for, and he felt his head reeling, his cock aching in his pants, his vision clouding with a hazy little vignette at the way pleasure surged through him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He leaned down to kiss her one last time, short but passionate as he dragged his tongue over hers, and then backed away.

His hands helped her scooch further up on the bed, fluffed the pillows so she could lean back comfortably. He moved away, but for a moment, to remove his sweatpants and drop them to the carpeted floor. Then, crawling his way back onto the bed, he lovingly spread her soft thighs as far apart as they could go, and slotted himself between them.

Now, he paused, taking in the glorious sight of her.

Her thighs were warm in his hands, smooth to the touch, her hair was mussed against the pillow, her eyes half-closed, her chest heaving with her breaths. Sole was the very pinnacle of attraction, of vivacious, robust health that had him gawking at the marvel of her body. She was bursting with life and glowing like the rays of the setting sun. She was a natural wonder. David felt she could do anything, if she could do this. If she could love him, hold his entire future inside her, if, through everything she’s been through, and everything that she would go through still, she could be her tenacious, gentle, passionate, self, if she could be that and more, his Sole was surely divine.

To see her spread this way, just for him, he felt privileged, like he didn’t deserve to even lay his eyes upon her, but gracefully, Sole allowed it.

He would never squander that, David promised himself. Not when the baby came and he lacked sleep and sanity, not when she was weary and cross with him, not even when they were old and wrinkled and the world had changed beyond the point of recognition, he would always treasure the fact that he was the one lucky enough to be able to love her like she deserved.

“What?” He heard her voice through the haze of his own thoughts.

David blinked at her.

“What are you looking at?” She wasn’t teasing him, no, Sole sounded almost worried.

How long was I staring?

“Is something wrong?”

“No!” He said, quickly as his clumsy lips could manage. He still felt like he was in a dream, somehow. “No, sweetheart, just… can’t get enough of you.”

He scooted himself forward, releasing her thighs to let them fall on either side of him as his hips met her, and he let his stiff member rest overtop her pubic mound. One hand went to his erection, pressing it so the underside of his shaft would put pressure onto her clit as he began to rub it forward and back over her.

“Didn’t mean to make you nervous, love.” He said apologetically as he moved, “Sometimes, I just can’t believe this is all real. That we’re doing this, starting a family, that… that some schmuck like me gets the privilege of being with you every night.”

Sole’s breath caught, and he saw her eyes glisten in the dim lamplight.

“You’re not just some schmuck to me, David.” He could see the way she wanted to reach for him, to comfort him, but her gravid belly wouldn’t allow for that kind of movement.

He reached for her instead, leaning forward so his free hand could grasp with one of hers. She squeezed it tight.

“I love you, I want you, want this for us.” She was growing more and more breathless as he rubbed over her, and David felt her slickness beginning to collect on the underside of his cock. "No matter what you think, honey, you’re– ahh, you’re worthy of it. All of it.”

A groan left his throat at that, at the way his chest utterly ached at her words, as he felt emotion collecting in his eyes just the same. On the next rub of his length over her, he felt the tip of him catch at her entrance and, almost unwittingly, he pressed inside.

Sole gasped, and her eyebrows creased together at the sudden feel of him, but she opened up easily. Her wetness eased the way for him, letting his length slide all the way in on the first stroke, until his hips met the back of her thighs. David couldn’t help the lewd moan that left him. He felt heat rise all the way to his ears, felt a primal satisfaction warm his chest, tighten the muscles in his stomach, automatically causing him to begin little pulses of his hips against her.

Sole's walls sucked him in in response, her sweltering heat clenching until he felt like she was choking him. It was difficult, then, to begin his first few thrusts, as she tightly held onto him like a vise.

“Feel so good, darling, s-so warm.” His voice came out somewhere between a breath and a growl from his efforts, “So perfect.”

He took care, as she loosened enough for his pace to increase, as his words and actions made her gush more wetness onto him. David had to catch himself, had to make sure he was being mindful of her state. He watched her expression for any sign of discomfort, but all he could discern was bliss.

Sole’s fingers gripped at the bedsheets as she felt him spread her apart, rubbing against all those sensitive spots inside. She gasped and moaned with his attention, with his effort, with the heightened pleasure that her hormones only exacerbated. One free hand moved down to where they were connected, David’s fingers gathering a bit of her slick before he began to rub over that sensitive little point nestled in her folds.

Sole’s hips began to buck up towards him at the new pressure, and he tried to angle his hips along with her. He pushed forward just as she reared up off the mattress, rubbing the head of his cock as deep inside as he could manage, until he felt another telltale squeeze of her walls around him.

“D-David…” She moaned his name, and he thrust harder than he meant to.

“Hngh, yes, darling?” His voice was labored as he continued, feeling himself grow harder, more desperate, with every press into her searing warmth. “What is it?”

“I’m close, honey.” He saw the way her rounded stomach tried to clench with the pleasure flowing through her, how sweat had begun to shine over her glowing skin.

“Yes.” He nodded, breathless. “I feel it.”

David leaned back somewhat, his hands going to her hips to haul her closer, as close as he could manage, and he lifted her just a smidge to get the proper angle before he pounded against that soft, spongy spot at the very back of her.

Sole cried out, and he felt his cock pulse inside her tellingly.

“M-me too, dear.” David nearly choked, “‘M close.”

Sole couldn’t respond though, not with words, as she arched her back, as her hips stuttered and she came with a broken moan. He felt her wetness gush onto him, felt her body tremble in his grasp, and the pressure of her, that desperate, wanting squeeze around his member was more than enough to set him over the edge, and he released with a cry of his own.

David’s hips bucked shallowly as his cock pulsed out ropes of his seed into her still-clenching walls. His grasp on her was tight, the way his hands held her to him and kept himself steady, kept him from collapsing overtop her as his energy faded from a roiling flame into a pleasantly sizzling bed of coals.

Sole’s eyes were closed as he felt the last of his spend leave him, as he felt himself growing soft within her, and reluctantly, David eased himself out.

The air was suddenly cooler than he remembered, against his clammy skin, the wetness coating his hips. He shivered as he stepped off the bed and grabbed a towel from their bathroom. It happened in a daze, as he moved to clean them both, as he gathered the blankets together and wrapped them about their tired, spent bodies, and blissfully, he held Sole in his embrace as she drifted off.

He didn’t sleep right away. In fact, David found he couldn’t, even with his fatigue, he felt… a sort of unrest that made fear prickle beneath his skin. It was back, that whisper at the back of his head, that woeful sound that had his eyes wide and his heart racing.

Something was… was wrong, even though everything felt right with the world. With Sole asleep in his arms, with the cool night, the warm blankets, the crickets’ song outside, the radio droning from the other room.

Suddenly, David felt very far away from it all. Like he was in another’s skin, like this world wasn't his own. He was afraid to sleep, in case he woke up somewhere wrong, afraid to even blink. But he could only hold out for so long.

Then he was blinking awake.

The ghoul sat up with a start, feeling the blanket gather around his heaving waist as he looked wildly around the shadowy room.

It was a hollow ruin of his dream.

The smell around him wasn’t fresh blossoms, but stagnant water and stale dust. No cricket song poured in, only silence and the groan of the wind through bare tree branches. It wasn’t pleasantly cool, but cold with the drafts whispering through the cracks and holes in the shabby walls of the Sanctuary home he found himself in.

It all came flooding back, and sadness permeated his skin, his heart.

Slowly, with a shaking hand, David pressed the pads of his fingers to his scarred and textured face. His breath caught momentarily, but a movement stopped him from despairing.

Sole…

She was the commonality. The one constant in this world, and the one of his wildest dreams.

“Honey?” Her voice asked tiredly. “You okay?”

“Fine, sweetheart.” He whispered, all the warmth of his dream contained in those words. “I’m just…”

David turned to her, and leaned down before he could even finish, kissing her lips, her cheeks, caressing her with his time-ruined hands with all the gratefulness of a man that thought he'd lost his love for good.

Sole giggled at his attention, trying to kiss him in return, but he was too feverish, too unpredictable with his overwhelming affection.

“I’m so happy to see you.” He kissed her again, until she groaned against his lips.

“Mm, David, sweetie, I’ve been here all night, all week.”

“I know, love, I know.” He moved over her completely, and Sole wrapped her legs around him, rubbed her smooth hands over his shoulders.

“So, what’s brought all this on, hm?”

“Missed you when I was asleep.” He breathed against her neck, “Love you so much, Sole, I want… I wish…”

His movements paused as he remembered.

In his mind’s eyes, he saw her before him, he felt the delicate raise of her stretch marks against his lips, he yielded to the soreness of her breasts, moved slowly and carefully around the swell of her belly.

“What?” She prodded gently, and David blinked.

His throat was tight, his mind fearful, apprehensive.

“I… I dreamed we, that you…”

He looked into her eyes as his confidence wavered, and she made him feel brave. The affection he saw there… even when he now looked like this. After 200 years of suffering, after her hardship and grief, they’d both lived. Survived through it all and made it here, to this.

“I dreamed that we were having a baby.”

Sole stared with wide, vibrant eyes, first looking at him, and then at something far past him, deep in thought.

“Is that…” She started, being careful with her words, “Is that something you want? Something that’s… possible?”

He shook his head mutely.

“I-I don’t know if it’s possible, but… But I dreamed about it, and when I did… Well, it’s hard to think of anything I want more.”

Her smile almost caused him to faint, the genuine joy he saw there made his arms shake.

“Y-you think you would want to, well, that you might…?”

Sole was nodding even before he trailed off, and David’s grin mirrored hers.

A second chance. He thought, as he leaned down to kiss her, and she met him easily, pressing in until they were both breathless.

“I… I want to try, at least.” She panted out, “In all honesty, I’ve been thinking about it too. Just… didn’t know how to approach it.”

She leaned in and kissed him this time, her hands on either side of his face as their lips met in a cacophony of feeling.

“A family…” Sole breathed out with a contagious smile as her head fell back onto the pillow.

“A family.” He repeated, his voice firm, stubborn in the way it wanted this. The way he would dream and hope and speak it into his reality.

So help him, that dream would come true. One day.

One day soon.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 npcs #fallout npc #fo4 #vault tec rep #david dwecker #vault tec rep fo4 #fallout vault tec rep #ghouls #sole #sole survivor #f!sole #dwd.nsfw #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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meowunmeow · 3 months

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Undead Unluck Chapter 199 Spoilers!!

Every lore drop is like an atomic bomb

They both can't swim oml (just like me fr) yet Haruka still dived in to save him regardless. I love these two I wanna put them in a microwave and watch them spin. At least Julia's there for the rescue

WHOAAA ANDY CAMEO 🤯🤯 (literally a dot)

Ooh their neutralisation is in the form of their seat dissipating.

Who the hell stitched up Sick 😭 did he do it himself because the others won't stop laughing at him or something. Or did Rip turned off Unrepair by accident. (I double checked and he's been like this since chapter 191, apparently)

MR. BEAST???

VII (Time/Past/Fade) saying 1:34am... Gonna assume he's saying in terms of location and not that Brazil Time is Universal Time (although that'd be funny lmao)

Now then, Death being represented by a nun felt weird to me back then but the fact that she also prays makes it even stranger. Is it because religion has a tendency to try and explain what happens after death? Her saying about "rest in peace" makes it sound like there is an afterlife, when we already know there's not any in their world.

Her, despite being the personification of Death itself, seem to not have full control of it at all. We already know about the soul chain thing but what exactly is her limit of control? Really curious about her.

Wow bro got back to the roundtable right after Beast died what a drama queen

What does Soul mean by a "validated world"?

He really is not like the other girls lmao

UMAs are double edged swords... They were made to bring downfall to humanity yet are also the ones being used.

I know it's probably design reasons but what exactly is that necklace he's wearing?

HECK YEAH BIG ASS WORD CONFIRMATION!!

"transcends physical boundaries to relay information" and "trigger to accomplish" then I suppose that means that without death of the said physical boundary, information cannot be relayed. Because Juiz and Victor never died for 100 loops, they couldn't accomplish it, hence withholding information.

Goodness no wonder Change is always pissed. Her rule is what makes growth and improvement of humanity happen.

Adding on, Juiz and Victor are also the first, having a limit on what they could achieve, similar to Feng's conundrum with Unfade. Victor because he literally cannot die and Juiz because she took on the responsibility of looping.

GUYS THAT'S MY WIFE THERE GUYS OMG MY

Also yay again for the big word confirmation!!

That's formal introductions to Sick, Beast, Language, Soul, Death, Change and Luck and informal on War, Time/Past/Fade and Justice so far.

What does he mean by this. Considering he's the first UMA ever, as well as the one that completely relies on an individual's belief in him existing, he gets to be a spectator just like Luna.

This is a good showcase of their personalities. Death, VII and Justice stayed sitting while War, Change, Sick and Luck prepared to open fire. They're the ones who are easily irked while the first three stayed calm.

Part 2 here

#undead unluck #undead unluck spoilers #meow reads

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rose-reads-visualnovels · 8 months

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Warning, this is a bit of a tangent about my own experiences, so sorry if this is oversharing a bit

I probably should have clarified, I'm not all too worried about Anthy to be honest, I don't know much about her, but I know all those polite smiles she puts on are fake and that fact alone makes me super invested in her character (every time I see a screenshot of her tiny smile I go "haha I do that")

What I'm worried about is the Akiko guy.

Now, this worry mostly stems from where I grew up, that being western Europe, so I don't know if 90's Japan ever held similar beliefs or if the creators of Utuna even considerd this stereotype when writing their story,

But a big thing I kept hearing about growing up was the fear of the 'foreign brown rapist', where some people actually tried to debate me on how "we shouldn't let [brown] immigrant men in or else they'll rape our women"

(of course I'm not saying that brown people can't be sexual abusers but a lot of people who would debate these sorts of things often would ignore accusations against white men)

Of course a lot of this stuff stems from the immigration crisis, so I don't know if at the time and place that Utuna was made if this talking point even existed.

But all of this stuff has been making me worry about how Akiko may fall into this stereotype, and I just wanted to know if he did so when I watched the show I knew what to expect.

Him only being brown because of his connection to Anthy and being more a concept is reassuring however

Also I know this topic is a bit decisive so if you don't feel comfortable answering this ask that is totally fine, I just felt the need to clarify

No worries, anon!

You raise a good point about the “dark skinned foreigner who’s out to steal (and rape) our women” trope being a weapon for anti immigration white supremacists to keep their power over “their” white women intact. “Keeping away the competition” comes to mind when I think about this kind of people.

However, for all of his connections to the very desi (and therefore foreign) inspired Anthy, Akio is supposed to represent the perfect illusion of a Western Prince. He’s conventionally attractive, drives a luxury car, rides a White Horse, holds a position of authority in the school. He’s not a foreign agent, but a symbol of the system itself.

I wonder how intentional the disconnect between his skin color and what he represents in the story is, but that’s how it turned out.

Hope this helps!

— Rose, the Revolutionary Witch

#anon ask #askbox #revolutionary girl utena #rgu

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bulbabutt · 4 months

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listen im not trying to be a hater i just think tf prime represents something of the moment in time it was made and i dislike it a lot. it clearly is trying to be like the bad movies, stylistically and character wise. it loses its own identity in trying to make a cartoon out of that concept, because it cant.

its full of so many words that it tries to give meaning to, all being names or objects from previous shows, even using song lyrics from the 86 movie, while its central conflict becomes about politics it barely understands. trying to make me care if the decepticons or autobots press the magic button that will restore their home planet because whoever does so will have a POLITICAL edge when the other cybertronians return home (they never do)

it barely grasps what the source of the war was. what starts as revolution against an oppressing class became a war between two guys with differing beliefs on how to achieve justice. but when the difference in their politics is literally 'i will get justice even if it resorts to violence' vs 'i dont believe in violence' and then you HAVE A WAR SO BAD IT CAUSES YOUR PLANET TO DIE you need to grapple with the consequences of that. the characters should bring that up. the vibes between optimus and megatron should be more familiar than they are. like a magneto and professor x thing, a former brotherhood turned sour, but knowing each other better than anyone despite their opposing views.

(rambled on for a while so cut)

in other shows we're left wondering what the history is, seeing these two titans who have been fighting for millions of years, we rarely see any specifics and so we're left to make our own conclusion based on the relationship we see. here its more about making the lore heavy than it is about how the characters back story relate to how they act.

to get into how the characters as a whole interact it seems less interested in making characters seem like real people than the g1 cartoon, which by all accounts was just a silly toy commercial. there is no sense of brotherhood among the autobots and no real love for earths living creatures outside of these 3 children (and the us government). none of the autobots feel like characters, they have no real personality or individual quirks (besides ratchet) and optimus most of all feels like he is just here to stand in the corner of a scene and give a good soundbite line. something vague that somewhat relates to whats being said, it feels like 'well we have peter cullen lets let him say something cool'. style over substance.

meanwhile the decepticons despite being so bloodthirsty and brutal, constantly forget and forgive each other for literally attempting to kill each other every episode. in one episode megatron tells starscream if he doesnt find him worthy of rejoining the decepticons that he will kill him. then we see him watch all of starscreams betrayals from over the course of the entire show, we see no reason he should ever forgive starscream and then at the end he simply.... doesnt kill him. he forgives him and keeps him around. this is supposed to be the scary bloodthirsty megatron who was a gladiator and has no problem with violence, yet he lets the character who stole victory after victory from him live. it makes no sense in this 'the more serious show'. but then it works out cuz starscream just stops being who he was and then just genuinely follows megatron. so. idk i guess the goal was scare him. thats the end of that whole plotline then.

starscream specifically seems too goofy here because he constantly fails at everything. theres a part of how you make this character work thats fully missing here, and thats his sense of self preservation. he doesnt have one. he makes decisions that make no sense, he betrays everyone and walks into traps set by them despite knowing they want him dead just to make him as pathetic as possible. when he loses his t cog its especially apparent because he just. went to the guys that wanted a t cog after destroying bumblebees and hes like "whoopsie oh well" and then is surprised they turn on him and take his. comparing this to the g1 version and saying 'this one makes more sense' kills me. it doesnt. g1 knows when to fold. thats why it feels like knockout feels more like starscream to me, hes the only one calculating and staying quiet until he sees the power shift.

the show is frustrating to watch because it just seems like characters waiting around doing nothing but reacting to things, but in the meantime theyre not really being characters at all, theyre not being enjoyable or lovable to watch outside of their names reminding you 'they are iconic IP, please buy these toys.'

and they dont look very good either, clearly trying to mesh together the overly complicated ugly mess that is the b*yverse with cartoon proportions. specifically anyone designed in that first 5 episode. the designs are all top heavy, their faces so flat mouths so plain, but everyone has these very detailed eyebrows to emote with. in arcees case she even gets detailed eyelashes.

and dont get me started on the 'arcee cant be pink cuz thats a girl colour and shes a girl but shes not a GIRL' problem. you put pink on her as her secondary colour. you put pink IN HER EYES. she has a skirt. she shows off an insane amount of robot midriff (somehow, cuz they painted her like that) her flat face for some reason has lips (which dont even look good, like warped metal around her mouth). so are you trying to design a girl character or not? be fucking honest about it. youre both embarrassed of pink arcee while also doing the same thing, making her small making her clearly the feminine one. and narratively ohhhh dont get me started (also this show decided to keep saying two wheeler in a way that meant girl and thats......ugh)

basically i just think when you try so hard to be so serious you end up being sillier than things that know theyre silly. if youre embarrassed of the media that came before you why even make it?

oh right. brand synergy. to advertise your new streaming network. to show off what cartoons can REALLY be like now. SUPER SERIOUS. SUPER CINEMATIC.

but i think it just didnt say anything about anything. it didnt represent anything. didnt make me care about anyone or any plight. any stakes it tried to add didnt matter. didnt do anything new, didnt really understand anything that came before. threw out ideas stolen from better shows. threw a new paintjob on hotrod, called him smokescreen, but then didnt have the balls to kill off optimus to make that character matter. kinda represents a lot of what i mean just in that regard alone.

i just think ive seen a lot of these shows now and this one has made me the most mad, cuz it is so 2010, its so cynical and mean spirited, its so lazy and cash grabby, its full of in name only references to make you point at the screen and go I KNOW THAT THING! without knowing why you ever cared about that thing.

and while im not trying to say its the worst one objectively (i dont rank shit like that) i am saying at least when it comes to something the masses would consider a 'worse show' like energon or bm or rid, at least all of those have their own identity and theyre not pretending to be something theyre not. theyre not trying to be cleverer than they are.

basically the people who wrote this are the people that wrote the first transformers movie, and that is where this plague of creating soulless reboot/remake/sequels to your favorite nostalgic media that hollywood has been stuck in ever since started, and you can TELL.

#long post #you ever watch a show that made you so mad for the state of media #if i throw up all my thoughts about this one maybe ill stop being so mad and calm down enough to watch something else #the tf binge thoughts

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pinkprimrose05 · 1 year

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opinion. the shun. the emo

One Angry Bird™ coming right up!

1) How I feel about this character:

Kurosaki is a fan-favorite for a reason, you know. I personally held no particular stance on him through his first few appearances, except for a passing thought of "oh, cool guy, I wonder why he's so aggressive to everyone though."

The more time he spent on screen, however, the more he started growing on me. S2 did him really good in its first half; it showed us more of his personality through his interactions with the Lancers, explained the full reason behind his strong hatred of Academia (which I was always curious about, seeing how Yuuto was far less vocal about it), and gave the birbman an amazing show of character development through his Duel with Crow. I was so sad he lost when I first watched it, but the way they handled the conclusion was more than good enough to compensate, looking back. It was great seeing how far Shun had come, and I was so proud of him when he stood up for the Lancers in the Xyz arc.

2) My romantic ships for them:

None, actually. I don't know if I've ever said this before, but I'm just not into romantic ships in general. There's like, 4 exceptions to this rule, and it so happens that none of them include a Shun pairing. Whoops.

3) Platonic OTP:

Oh, definitely Shun and Yuuto! They sadly don't have much time together on-screen, but you can clearly see that their bond is nigh unbreakable. The way Shun still cares for Yuuto despite his inability to actually see him throughout the show is extremely heartwarming, and I'm still very glad they're getting the chance to meet once again in Duel Links. They deserve that chance, after all they've gone through. They deserve to be happy together at the end of it all.

4) Unpopular Opinion corner:

I don't know if it's just me, but I find it lowkey insulting that every time Shun summons Raidraptor - Ultimate Falcon, he ends up losing the Duel. This card is supposed to represent Shun's renewed resolve to protect his comrades, the epitome of his character development, and yet it's constantly getting thrown around and destroyed whenever it appears. This is one card that feels ten times scarier to face in the actual game than it does in the anime, and it's such a shame that that's the case.

5) Something I wish would happen to them:

MAN, I wish those snippets from the 3rd Ending were canon in some way. Shun needs a filler break the most out of our Lancers, and it would've been interesting to see him interact more with the group in a post-canon setting, especially Sawatari and Serena. These three are extremely chaotic, and putting them in one room together would be so hilarious it'd make great sitcom material.

#thank you for coming to my TED talk #i like this birbman a lot if you couldnt tell #yugioh #yugioh arc v #shun kurosaki #asks #character breakdown

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rollforhellfire · 2 years

Text

unremarkable things

BBEG

The Hideout is not the only bar in Hawkins, but it is the only one on the outskirts of town, on the wrong side of the tracks, at the lower boundary of what’s considered safe or civilized by the residents of Hawkins. About two miles down the road from the trailer park, it’s a low-ceilinged, single-roomed shack just off the highway, with bikes parked outside in clusters in between rusting work trucks, more or less at any hour of the day or night. Between his other errands and the time it takes to walk from place to place, it’s already pushing one in the morning by the time he gets there, but the Hideout is still open. Light glows dimly through smoky windows as Eddie approaches, and neon signs posted on the corrugated metal of the exterior walls promise a variety of domestic beers available within.

Despite appearances, The Hideout’s really not that bad. It’s the people on the inside that make the next part challenging.

Eddie’s weed guy is named Randy. He’s a decent dude, a chilled out old stoner of the variety that came up in the sixties, preaching peace and love and ganja as a solution to all of life’s myriad problems. He homesteaded for a while in the Emerald Triangle, and still has connections out that way. His house is out on the lake, where he catches his own fish and grows his own food, rents and bootlegs VHS tapes, and does all of this while mildly baked. Randy is harmless.

Randy also won’t come near The Hideout for love nor money. Eddie has come here to see a man named Roy.

Roy is a drug dealer. Roy is almost certainly a member of the Hell’s Angels. By the presence of tears inked on his face, Roy has probably killed at least one person. Roy is the sort of person that the general population of Hawkins would never imagine hangs out around the shadowy edges of their little midwestern town. Everything that seems scary about Eddie at first blush—the hair, the tattoos, the old black leather and raggedy denim and stainless steel jewelry—is multiplied a thousandfold in Roy, and represents someone actually, genuinely scary.

As Eddie shoulders open the door of the Hideout, Roy is at his usual corner table, already watching expectantly as he enters. A booted foot kicks a chair out, and with no preamble other than a nod to the bartender, Eddie crosses the room to join him.

“Wondered when you’d turn up,” Roy rumbles from the opposite side of the table, behind a braided beard streaked with grey. There are two beers on the tabletop, but Eddie doesn’t dare presume one is intended for him until he takes a seat and Roy shoves it in his direction.

“Thanks. Sorry if I made you wait.”

Roy just grunts and takes a long swig of his beer, though one eye doesn’t leave Eddie until Eddie does the same. The buzz from the beer Herman had offered in the back of the liquor store had faded on the duration of the walk over, but it comes right back as he polishes off half of what Roy had offered. Roy does not usually offer him anything—not a seat, not a drink, not anything other than his usual variety of illicit substances for resale to Hawkins residents. Eddie keeps his expression neutral, even though he’s wary of the circumstances.

“Got a message for you,” Roy starts casually, slowly spinning an empty beer bottle on the table, between hands big enough to reach out and crush Eddie’s windpipe, with about as much effort as it would take to crush an egg.

Coincidentally, his windpipe does feel like it’s being crushed, with the rising pressure of anxiety at the back of his throat, to do with the reasons why he knows Roy in the first place, and what the source and the content of the message could be.

“Your daddy says you ain’t been taking his calls.”

This is and always has been true, at least for the past three years. Every time a collect call from Pendleton comes to the house, Eddie turns it down. He’s heard Uncle Wayne take them once or twice, but usually these calls come in the daylight hours, and usually Uncle Wayne is sleeping and Eddie’s supposed to be at school. Usually. The conversations are always short and terse. The bad blood between Wayne and his brother runs dark and deep and has a great deal to do with Eddie.

Exactly how much Roy knows on the subject and exactly what his opinion of it is, Eddie doesn’t know. He drains the rest of his bottle of beer in a way that warms his gut and loosens the tension in his throat, and gives him an artificial sense of bravery as he answers with a question, dark and sardonic, “Can you blame me?”

“Ain’t really my business. But your dad shanked somebody on the inside when he got told to, on the condition that I pass this along: he’s got a new lawyer and he’s putting in an appeal. Time comes that it makes it to trial, he wants you not to say anything against him.”

That artificial sense of bravery curdles in his gut, flips it over and sets it churning with anxious nausea, in the same moment as his throat constricts again, this time with the pressing urge to vomit. Eddie doesn’t know what he looks like when this happens, doesn’t know that his features go still and his jaw sets and his face takes on a grim cast that’s uncannily like his father—but his voice is soft and strained and breaks slightly, betraying him, as he numbly asks, “Are you supposed to take a message back?”

“You got one for me to take?”

“No.”

Roy just nods, satisfied, and polishes off his own beer. As this vanishes into his gut, he gestures to the bartender for two more. “Then I done my part.” When Eddie doesn’t answer, still numbly hunched in his chair on the opposite side of the table, Roy clears his throat, as awkwardly as anyone with a presence as commanding as his can manage. Apparently Eddie looks wretched enough about this news to inspire the pity of angels. “Look, kid, you want to know what I think, it’s that it ain’t gonna come to nothin’. Puttin’ in appeals is just what inmates do. He ain’t gettin’ out, it ain’t gonna get back in court. You ain’t gotta do nothin’ but keep lettin’ him rot and keep your own ass outta prison, and odds are you’ll never see him again.”

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, still blank and distant, and when his second beer arrives, he automatically closes a hand over the top, and snaps the lid off with the inner edge of one of the rings on his fingers. Now when he drinks, it’s because he needs to. He wonders distantly if this is why Roy had offered him a beer in the first place.

Roy still watches him, caught between something that might be concern, and something else that might be disdain. He clears his throat, again, and gives Eddie a few more moments before he asks, “You wanna get down to our usual transaction?”

It’s a few moments more before Eddie snaps out of it, remembering the colour of lavender, the scent of lilacs, and the loops and whirls of Chrissy’s handwriting. He shakes his head to himself and pushes the bottle of beer away. “Y-yeah. Uh, yeah. Little different this time. This time I’ve got a list.”

It’s a testament to the depth and variety of Roy’s stock that he has no problem accomodating this list, and Eddie gets a price that only takes a fifty dollar bite out of his current profit, and leaves him with plenty of cash for assorted sundries. By the time their business is complete, Eddie has his fourth beer of the evening halfway finished, though the lurking terror of Roy’s message still churns through his gut like an augur, and its edges still cut deep and sharp inside him. His trusty old lunchbox is stuffed with a variety of substances that might help dull those edges—even Roy had offered him a couple Valium, on the house—but instead he gets up, and goes to pay his tab, before heading home.

He adds a generous tip, for the service, on top of the cost of a pint of rye. It’s a long walk home, and he’ll have to contend with the cold from without and the fear from within.

It’s hard to say which will be worse, but hopefully the whiskey makes at least one of them bearable. At least long enough to get home.

Wayne Munson works from 8PM to 4AM, but will occasionally clock overtime and not get home until half past eight, well after his nephew has already left for the day. Their lives don’t intersect very often, at least not during their waking hours, and so sometimes Wayne will make a point of getting home and staying up, to see Eddie in the morning before they both head off for bed and school, respectively.

It’s not due to any dislike or enmity that they don’t see much of each other—truthfully, Wayne likes his nephew a great deal more than he likes most other people. It’s just the way life is right now.

He comes home in the wee hours of Friday morning, parking his van and clambering out of it with a weary sigh, hard hat tucked under one arm and lunch box hanging from his other hand. Payday today. He’ll have to head into town and cash his check, once it clears, and then stock up on food to last the next two weeks. But that’s a problem for daylight proper, and with the sky overhead not even hinting at the onset of dawn, Wayne heads inside.

He’s quiet as he enters, because Eddie’s probably asleep in the back room, and quiet as he undresses, showers, and then puts on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, before going to investigate the fridge. Sometimes his nephew picks things up, sourcing an income from god knows where—but tonight there’s nothing but the half empty bottles of condiments and sprouting bag of potatoes that neither of them have dealt with. Wayne closes the fridge again, and then makes his way down the hallway to poke his head through the bedroom door and check on his nephew.

Instead he finds the bedroom, equal parts shrine and sanctuary, empty of his nephew, though not empty of his worldly possessions; his guitar and assorted sound equipment, a wardrobe stuffed with denim and faded band t-shirts, jars of dice, books and miniatures, cassette tapes, posters and other assorted memorabilia, all of which Eddie hoards like a dragon, or more accurately like a kid who was broadly denied or deprived of belongings of his own.

That Eddie isn’t there isn’t necessarily concerning—he’s nearly twenty-one, after all, and has more or less always taken care of himself—but it’s out of the ordinary, and Wayne is more puzzled than he is worried, until he hears the scrape of the key in the lock of the front door, and comes down the hall just in time to see it shoved open, as his nephew stumbles over the threshold.

Eddie either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that his uncle is standing in the hallway, watching him stagger inside. There’s an urgency in him, masked but not hidden by the unsteadiness of his gait, and he crosses the narrow width of the trailer to half collapse against the edge of the kitchen sink, where he begins to retch and heave his guts out, with a remorseless vigour that doesn’t match his ability to hold himself up.

Wayne curses softly to himself, and crosses the room in a few quick strides, to snag a hand at the back of Eddie’s collar, looping his other arm behind his back and catching the faltering weight of him beneath the armpit with a grunt and a sigh. He feels the familiar shape of a fifth of something hanging in the pocket of Eddie’s jacket and wonders where he got it, how far he walked while drinking. Grimly, he drops his hand to rub up and down between his nephew’s shoulder blades. Hopefully it reassures him that his uncle isn’t mad, only worried.

In the brief pause between bouts of vomiting—the contents of the sink smell flammable, a rancid mixture of beer and bile and the acrid burn of undigested liquor—Eddie’s breath hitches and tears out of him in a way that sounds like sobbing. Then his shoulders lurch again, bony and narrow even through layers of leather and denim, and more of the evening’s libations fountain out of him, wracking his body beneath Wayne’s hands.

After a few false starts, and then one more round that brings up only bile and saliva, Eddie finally shudders in a way that turns into a bodily shiver, then goes bonelessly limp, so that his Uncle has to follow the half-dead weight of him to the ground, helping him slump against the kitchen cabinets. He breathes shallowly, recovering, with his eyes closed and his face pale in the dim fluorescent light of the kitchen. Wayne puts a hand on his shoulder, but doesn’t say or do anything, except to study his nephew’s face and wait for some indication of what this is all about.

When he gets it, he doesn’t immediately know what it means—

“He’s gonna get out.”

“What?”

Eddie groans brokenly and his eyelids squeeze tight together as tears glint at their inside corners, and his arms wrap tight around his chest, pulling away from his uncle without meaning to, as he shudders again and tries to fold an adult’s body into a child’s posture of sheer terror, curling in on himself as he tries again, his voice a bare, raw whisper—

“He’s trying to get out, he’s going to get out. God. Oh god, he’ll kill me. This time he’s gonna kill me.”

There’s only one person in the world that Eddie is this afraid of, and he and Wayne both share the man’s blood. It sickens him to know that his own flesh and blood could’ve put such horror into his son—but he’d be lying to say he was surprised. His younger brother was always a monster. He never should’ve been allowed to father a child.

And as his nephew breaks the rest of the way down, crumpling to the floor in a drunken mess of abject terror, all Wayne can do is gather him up, gruff but gentle, and help him down the hall to bed. There are no monsters here. Not tonight, and not any other night, not if Wayne can help it. Eddie doesn’t want to go, but it isn’t hard to make him, though he raises mumbled protests the entire way there.

Wayne ignores this, stubbornly ushering the kid into bed. Once Eddie’s settled down, his uncle makes sure he’s propped securely on his side between a hefty basket of unwashed laundry and a thin, folded over pillow, to make sure he doesn’t choke if he throws up again. He leaves Eddie’s jacket on, too difficult to extricate when his arms have locked around the pillow against his chest, but pulls his shoes off, dropping them onto the floor before pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. This accomplished, Wayne shifts to sit at the edge of the mattress, sagging with the weight of both of them, and watches until he’s sure that Eddie’s asleep. It doesn’t take long, though when it happens, it doesn’t look peaceful. Carefully, he lays a rough hand on top of his head, and sits a while longer, listening to him breathe.

He can’t tell if it makes any difference, but he hopes that somehow, it helps. There’s nothing else he can do, for now.

<< prev || next >>

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x chrissy #stranger things #stranger things 4 #wayne munson #eddie fic #angst #fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddissy #hellcheer

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thmgau · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER 15 - A BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO CELESTIALS [wattpad link]

---

“Watch closely, my dear friends. This is how you make the best popcorn known to humankind.”

Kalani opened up the microwave & put the popcorn package in there. She set the timer to around 2 minutes & pressed the start button.

“2 minutes seems kinda excessive, don’tcha think?” “Patience is key, Leslie. Just wait.”

The group was currently at Kalani’s apartment for a sleepover. They did sleepovers fairly often, & shifted around whose place they’d have the sleepover at every month or so. This time, it was at Kalani’s.

“What do we do in the meantime?” “Uh.. I dunno, actually.” “Hmm..”

An idea popped into Nora’s head.

“Oh! Kalani! That.. magic book thing is here, right?” “Yea?” “How about we read through that?” “Oh, that sounds fun.” “Yea. Plus, if we’re so-called ‘heroes’ anyway, we should maybe read the book telling us how to be heroes.” “Alright, lemme go get it.”

Kalani left the kitchen to go get the book. The microwave had about a minute & a half left on it.

“How much do you wanna bet he isn’t gonna come back before the popcorn’s done?” “At least $5.” “I’ll get a bowl.”

Cherry reached up into the cabinet & grabbed a big bowl for the popcorn.

“Have you all noticed an increase in posters everywhere with that puppet guy on them?” “Oh, yea. There’s been a TON of them everywhere. Wonder why that is.” “Les, weren’t you gonna find out what those red things above each poster were?” “Yeah! I showed it to Natalie today during class, & I guess she knows a bit about tech stuff, so she’s gonna do some research on it & tell me what’s up with it later.”

The microwave went off. The popcorn was done.

“Why Natalie?” Cherry asked, opening up the microwave & pulling the popcorn out. “What’s wrong with Natalie? She’s nice.” “Yea, when she’s not trying to steal shit & antagonize us.” “She’s helped us get out of some sticky situations. She’s not all that bad.”

Cherry opened up the popcorn & poured it all into a bowl. “Whatever. I still don’t like her.”

“I’m back!” Kalani grinned, entering the kitchen with the book. “Awesome! Let’s get to reading!”

The group got all huddled up in Kalani’s living room. The book was laid out in front of them, & the popcorn was sitting on the coffee table. Kalani flipped through the pages.

“Alright... we’ve already read about the weapons... let’s see.. Aha!”

Kalani had landed on a page titled CELESTIALS.

“This seems interesting enough to read about!” “Celestials? What the hell is a Celestial?” “‘A Celestial is a god-like being, each one representing a different element of life,’” Kalani read. “‘There are currently 9 Celestials who reside at the Castle of Celestials.’”

“Ooh! They have a castle!” “I’ve never been to a castle before. Unless bouncy castles count. Then I’ve been to dozens.”

“‘The 9 Celestials are as follows:’” Kalani continued reading from the book. “‘Fate, Time, Mr. Moon, Sun, Betty, Spring, Storm, Good, & Evil.’”

“Why does Mr. Moon get an honorific? Nobody else has a ‘Mr.’, a ‘Ms.”, or even a ‘Mx.’ What’s their deal?” “Maybe they’re the most important?” “I don’t think so. You remember that quote-unquote ‘dream’ we had?” “How could we forget?” “The dream mentioned that we were chosen ‘by Fate itself,’ & in the list it says there’s a Celestial named Fate.” “So Fate’s the most important one then?” “I guess so.”

“Wait,” Nora said, pointing toward a line in the book. “It says here that each Celestial represents a different element. What element is Betty supposed to represent?” “Who knows? It’s not like there’s a list of each element or anything, so all we can do is guess.” “& there are 2 Celestials named Good & Evil respectively! Why aren’t they maintaining ‘the balance between good & evil’ instead of us?!” “That’s fucked up.” “I’m gonna flip ahead to a different page.” “What, we’re not reading the book in order?” “What? No. That’s for losers.”

Kalani flipped ahead a couple of pages. She landed on a page titled CASTLE OF CELESTIALS. On the page, along with some writing, was an illustration of the so-called “Castle of Celestials,” which was light blue & white.

“Ok, that’s a sick looking castle.”

Clearing his throat, Kalani began reading. “‘The Castle of Celestials is where the Celestials live. Occasionally, we let guests hang around for a while if they need a place to stay-’” “We? These Celestial guys wrote this book?” “I guess so.” “Could you not interrupt me when I’m reading?” “Sorry, ‘Lani.” “Ahem.. as I was saying... ‘As you are (presumably) the prophesied heroes, you are free to come & go whenever you please. All you must do to visit is be in Hero Mode & just think about going to the Castle.’” “Why does everything have to be in Hero Mode?” “I dunno. But I’m too tired to go to this castle right now, so who cares?” “Yea, we’ll just.. keep that knowledge in our minds until we need it.”

Cherry yawned, stretching their arms. “Maybe we should call it a night. Read this thing tomorrow or something.” “Yea, sounds good. G’night everyone-”

Leslie’s phone buzzed all of a sudden. “Oh! That must be Natalie!” “Oh, great.” Cherry rolled her eyes. “Let’s see what she said!”

Leslie took out its phone & looked at the text it had just received. The smile on its face quickly faded into a frown.

“What is it?”

They showed the phone to the group, so they could all read what the text said. Attached was a picture of the red, metal thing, & what Natalie had to say about it wasn’t pleasant.Natalie: its a camera.

#thmgau #a beginner's guide to celestials

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cannoli-reader · 4 days

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My Notes from Watching the Wheel of Time Show, season 1, episode 7

Originally posted on 12/18/2021. Possible spoilers for any or all WoT novels.

Almost to the end. By the standards of the show, now is the time to stop at an inn.

00:35 Fain in the recaps. I wonder if he’s going to put in an appearance? I wonder if it will catch them totally by surprise, with Rand or Perrin scoffing that he’s dead shortly before that?

01:18 Shaiel flashback! Why now, I wonder?

02:10 Pretty sure this is why you don’t actually wear a cape in battle. Also, why did that guy climb on the rock to strike down at her? They’re on a mountainside. Why would he randomly jump up on the rock and be surprised to see a Maiden sitting in the lee? And how did she miss him given that the rock is the only apparent cover in this open area?

02:22 Okay, these are Illianers based on the bees. I am really hoping Tam isn’t going to be beaten up by Shaiel and only saved by a contraction. Let’s try to remember, he’s a blademaster of sufficient experience to take the number two spot in the army despite being a foreigner. She’s pregnant with less than seven years of experience in hand-to-hand combat.

02:31 They’ve had four instances that I can recall of thrown knives so far, and only one was effective. Considering it’s a key weapon in many characters’ arsenal, plus a favorite of Hollywood, let’s not make it into a joke, where a pregnant woman is able to leverage a man’s body to intercept a knife in flight.

03:24 I cannot watch a dual-wielding fight, especially with a woman in a turban, without thinking of the laughably bad Sand Snakes on GoT. Just when I was thinking this one is better, and they are not clearly showing the multiple armed men failing to take advantage of their numbers and angles, we see a guy standing behind the kneeling Shaiel just weaving his sword around in the air waiting until she’s ready to parry. This is ridiculous and unnecessary! If you need to establish Aiel badassery, show a native Aiel taking on multiple enemies. Or have Shaiel defeating a reasonable number (one, maybe), despite being pregnant. This is so over the top, and on a show that already is flirting with invented girl-power, it’s highly suspect

04:00 Also, it’s really frustrating every time I have to watch Hollywood’s idea of a battle, which is actually more like “multiple simultaneous duels.” Even some of my favorite quasi-historical epics, like "Braveheart" or "The Patriot" or "300" despite paying lip service to the value of formations, have their battles deteriorate into a bunch of guys fighting one-on-one (or more, to show they are badass).

But at least they didn’t do Tam dirty

06:06 I wonder if it’s a Hollywood ego thing or bullshit guild rules that “Skip Intro” takes you to the name of the showrunner, writers and director.

07:05 So you need to channel to enter the Ways, but you can’t channel inside, and also channeling to open the Waygate should not be done. How do people get out then? I hope it’s because the key or controls or whatever are on the inside, Edit from the future: It is not. but I am betting, based on their track record and the general intellectual level of the medium, they just didn’t think of it. Edit from the future: Probably

07:15 Of course, the answer to a simple question ( "What's Machin Shin" ) has to wait until it’s a more dramatic moment to reveal, even if it’s very pertinent, given Loial’s immediately prior warning.

08:44 For the record, they are correct, and more clear than the books, on the point that the Dragon represents danger not just in collateral damage or unfortunate necessity, like an amputation, but I feel like it’s just being done to give Moiraine more of a leg to stand on when arguing with the Indispensable Man. Because it was a moral question in the books, and that was one area in which Rand always was better informed than Moiraine.

09:33 How is a wrong step supposed to make you fall over those man-high columns along the sides of the paths? Also, they look like the tops of the piles holding up a pier, so you don't realize the bridges are supposed to be over nothing.

10:15 I don’t recall Perrin seeing any better in the Ways than anyone else. His vision maximizes the available light, and there is none in the Ways.

11:16 That’s the sort of thing Rand generally thinks, but Mat says. But we yeeted Mat out of the group for no reason, so we have to have Rand being uncharacteristically mocking of his friend.

12:17 Soooo…want to do some dishes?

12:22 Nosewart by firelight.

12:36 Imma assume Perrin’s just missing his own snuggle-buddy-turned axe-scabbard, and that look was not the start of Evangeline Lilly’s least favorite trope. Edit from the future: Nope, that's what it is.

12:49 First Shadar Logoth and now the Ways, both proving visually & atmospherically inferior to an old CD-ROM PC game. As ill-suited to the Wheel of Time experience as a first-person shooter might have been, it really conveyed the pants-shitting terror of both settings.

13:02 Lan looks more like a Myrddraal than the ones seen so far on screen. And I think it would have been scarier than the sandworm-mouth. Hilariously, I am intermittently plowing through Heretics of Dune right now, in which Sheeana refers to the sandworms as "Shaitan".

13:21 I know Egwene’s earrings are probably supposed to look Indian or something, but to me, they look like a rosary chaplet. Or a buzzsaw.

13:36 Either Machin Shin is not going to come, and Loial’s warning was bullshit to force the plot or they are actually going to have something be Egwene’s fault! Extremely innocently, but it’s still surprising given the leanings so far. Edit from the future: I'll give them this. It's almost good. Except for how saidar actually works as opposed to saidin.

13:53 “Machin Shin” translates to “journey of destruction” in the Old Tongue, not “black wind”! Black is “zoon”, which I know from the Aiel societies. This is in a book that was published six years ago, and easily ascertained! Especially by so-called fans striving for a faithful adaptation.

14:03 Wait, where were they going originally if they are only going to Fal Dara because of Journey of Destruction? Is there a Waygate at the Eye of the World? Edit from the future: Since those stick up higher than the trees in the Blight, probably not.

Also, Moiraine makes it sound like Journey of Destruction is going to try to tempt you instead of simply making you insane and/or (ha!) sucking out your soul. That it can somehow be resisted.

15:03 Journey of Destruction looks like a swam of locusts. And Journey of Destruction would be a better name for a magical locust swarm than “Black Wind.” Just saying. By the way, dibs on Journey of Destruction as a band name.

15:24 Lamest. Horror wind voices. Ever.

15:44 Wait, “loved another woman more than your wife”. No. Do not. Just don’t. Edit from the future: They do.

Maybe the point is that the Wind is lying (I refuse to attribute this crap to Journey of Destruction), given what it says about Rand and Egwene, whose relationship is going nowhere.

15:51 It sounds like they are attributing Nynaeve’s protectiveness to a need for attachment and a sop to her own loneliness and feelings of isolation. That’s bullshit. She protects her people because they are her people, not because she’s sad and pathetic!

16:00 Okay, so channeling stops Machin Shin now. Fine, whatever.

16:14 Dramatic backward bend, Moiraine. Dodging bullets in the Matrix, are we?

17:03 On the one hand, the backhanded compliment of congratulating the Emond’s Fielders on walking through a door is very much a Moiraine type thing (even more so a Lan thing), she isn’t going to address Egwene channeling when she should not? So they are either going nerf away the dangers of channeling or it’s going to seem really stupid and arbitrary when they bring those out again in time for them to be plot-relevant. At the least, it’s a good chance to drop in a line people will remember when Egwene dies. Edit from the future: It's even worse, because she never felt the channeling that knocked the Trolloc off.

17:21 If the Eye is only a day’s walk beyond the city in the real world, why is there a significant difference in the Ways between the Fal Dara gate and their intended destination? Why would they spend even five minutes more in the Ways than they needed to, to save a day’s walk in the real world, especially if they have time enough for the rest Moiraine just mentioned?

17:35 Either Rand is taking the evil Wind's words seriously for no reason, or they are thoughtlessly transcribing his ITB regret at the inevitable dissolution of his relationship with Egwene despite omitting Min and her viewings which foretold it to him.

18:03 I like the look of Fal Dara, even if there is no sign of the town from the books, let alone the “city” someone just called it. Like, you can see the people for scale. There isn’t room in there for my small hometown to live and be a town, even if you can cram the population into barracks.

18:26 All the black hawks are giving me a "Harpy of Meereen" vibe. The place looking like an exotic desert city doesn't help.

18:48 I suppose I should be glad that Uno is using an actual WoT curse, but after several episodes of "shite" and "arse," plus yet another “bastard” it completely erases his characteristic foul mouth.

19:14 I don’t know how I feel about this set design. On the one hand, it emphasizes the purpose of keeping a watch on the Blight and I presume that’s Tarwin’s Gap seen through the aperture to the balcony. On the other, it’s a huge opening pointed at the Blight and the Shadow, which is what they are there to guard against! If artillery is a thing to the degree that it was used in the Aiel War, where one side consists entirely of light infantry (i.e. no good targets) that’s not a vulnerability Fal Dara should have. And the Shadow is too dangerous for pointless gestures of bravado. Edit from the future: You think that is bravado? Wait until Shogun Agelmar opens his mouth.

19:36 I don’t like how they are using "Dai Shan". It’s not just Lan’s title, it’s like a knighthood, maybe more elite, like Warden in historical England. But more importantly, it’s also Agelmar’s title. The very first time anyone addresses him in the books, it is to call him Agelmar Dai Shan. Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but it was an annoyance with Sanderson that has me worried. Edit from the future: You were right to be.

20:00 Agelmar interrupts an Aes Sedai, to downplay concerns about his ability to hold the line. Agelmar, nor any Borderland ruler with an ounce of sense, would never turn away any legit help, no matter the quarter, against the Blight. The closest he comes to cockiness is when he is dismissing Fain’s grandiose offers of aid which the peddler does not look capable of delivering.

20:07 Fucker does it again! ITB the closest he came to discourtesy was when he insulted the TR boys, guests beneath his roof, for asking impertinent questions of Moiraine. Interrupting Moiraine would be right out.

20:18 ITB, Agelmar begs Moiraine for help, saying she would be worth a thousand lances against the Trollocs. Here, he boasts of fighting off armies of Trollocs that would make even an Aes Sedai blanch.

20:30 Even if Moiraine intends that remark as a rebuke, that’s not how an Aes Sedai would do it. Rather she would affirm that the Tower has every confidence in Agelmar’s ability to fulfil his duties and finds not fault in his performance nor any reason to chastise or rebuke him, leaving unspoken the implication that the Tower COULD do these things and has the right to judge him, that its authority is supreme and the Tower, not the Borderland lords, is the ultimate defense against the Shadow to whom Agelmar and the others answer. Show!Moiraine’s reply is an assertion of his autonomy, however backhanded, and despite the implication that he had better not fail because that would make him a shitty lord.

This is not special book knowledge, this is basic knowledge of “use of English language” and “interpersonal dynamics”. Two areas in which one would assume a screenwriter should be an expert. Edit from the future: I'm pretty sure there are over-long posts confirming you have watched all six episodes before this one. So why are you bringing this up?

21:40 I’m sort of curious what the point of Fain even is at this point. I’ll just assume he entered and left the Ways with some bullshit power the writers make up for him. Edit from the future: Shit! He's going to replace Aginor and Balthamel, isn't he?

21:51 Amalisa channels.

22:02 And Min is in Fal Dara and her ability is known, at least by the local authorities. Also, implicit in the title “Seer” is the answer to the question of why anyone would wish to speak to her.

22:07 I hope that’s not her way of announcing she’s a White sister.

22:14 Agelmar is just a know-it-all guy, never mind that he’s one of the greatest living generals in the world, whom Cadsuane characterizes as someone who is open to learning and making improvements.

22:33 Ah, she has a Great Serpent ring with no gem, so she was put out as an Accepted. Or given the ring as a courtesy of her rank, like Morgase. I guess that's a little better. But it should come with some exposition as to why this is not a perfectly valid alternative career path. Again, this Worfs the White Tower.

22:46 No one tells Aes Sedai that their first allegiance lies elsewhere, even if they think it. The White Tower presents as a superior institution that trumps all other claims. Furthermore, in the Borderlands, they see the White Tower as indispensable to their struggle with the Shadow. What an Aes Sedai wants, an Aes Sedai gets. It’s a measure of the extremity of the times ITB that the rulers start to balk at Elaida’s actions or start to give the whole split a side-eye.

23:12 Once again, the Red Ajah are not the men-with-power division of the White Tower. They are a political entity. If you send the Red Ajah a message, it is not in regard to their “function” as man-hunters, but as a political body in the context of Tower politics. Dangerous people and preternatural threats are the province of the whole Tower. One might want to keep a problem quiet and only run it by one’s close allies or friends, but a sister would only be sending a message to the Reds of a dangerous man if they had some political agenda behind it.

23:17 Oh, spears are a thing soldiers carry in this world. That fight with Shaiel was the equivalent of a woman with a rifle fighting a bunch of guys with pistols. Swords are sidearms and have always only ever been the secondary weapon of soldiers or a civilian weapon in day-to-day life. A soldier’s primary weapon is a spear or polearm or bow.

23:42 I kind of feel like this is out of character for Egwene. She’s not very insightful about other people’s feelings. Like, she, in her way, cares about them and stuff, but beyond that, she generally doesn’t have a good read on people outside of their immediate agendas, usually pertaining to something to which she can relate, like political advantage. More than a few times people who know her well run cons on Egwene or mislead her by the simple fact that she is oblivious to their issues or concerns and takes their presentation at face value.

It seems more like they just need a way to articulate Rand’s conflict and have the closest person to him talk about it, regardless of whether or not it’s in character for her.

24:09 Um, Nynaeve, you “were there on Bel Tine when the Trollocs came” and people actually saw you physically dragged off by one of them. Assuming Fain is dead when no one would have mentioned seeing a body is a mistake you especially should not be making.

And while it might be a reasonable assumption if Fain’s wagon was just left there unattended in the village square, given his canonical cheapness, that he must be dead, Nynaeve was not there in the aftermath. Nynaeve, even aside from the fact of her survival, was not there the next morning, so she has no idea who lived or died, beyond what the others might have told her. Is the show already forgetting details like this? Or is it like Rand and Egwene, where the most convenient person says the thing regardless of whether it makes sense? Edit from the future: Probably that.

25:07 Egwene’s mother is the best cook in the Two Rivers and women in general have contempt for men’s competence in female-coded activities. Why would Egwene expect Rand to make her dinner, especially if this world has the patriarchy, per Liandrin a couple episodes ago?

And why does every conversation still have to include put-downs?

26:02 My brother contends this is a legitimate viewing of Rand symbolizing his rebirth (but he’s also not super good on the details of things like RJ insisting that Min’s viewings always concern the future), but I doubt it. It also doesn’t make much sense ITB, because Rand’s red hair was incinerated with the rest of his corpse before any of his children were born (my headcanon is that his pipe-lighting power eventually changes him back to his normal appearance so that by the time his red hair has grown back out and his facial features realigned, everyone but those closest to him have forgotten what Rand al’Thor looks like).

27:12 I’m kind of interested to see how the Amyrlin is going to be Moiraine’s downfall, considering how little she has to do with any other Aes Sedai after leaving Fal Dara. I also wonder if it means Siuan, because Min specified the regalia but has she ever seen Siuan in person?

28:37 The firelight makes the nosewart visible even when it’s not a closeup!

28:43 Also, this prophecy feels like bullshit just made up to inflate the stakes. What was wrong with them going to the Eye to stop some plan of the Dark One with no clue what they were in for? I mean, that would have required some buildup and groundwork, so we might have had to cut back on Stepin’s mourning process or getting to know Dana the Darkfriend, or maybe pare down discussions of the Way of the Leaf to the number of such conversations they had on the topic ITB (it was one, for the record), but it could have been done.

28:47 “It’s easy to use doubt as a crutch, but doubt is the first step toward surrender to the Dark” What is this supposed to be? It honestly sounds like an aphorism from the Space Marines Children of the Light, or something Sevanna or Elaida would tell people who balked at her power grabs. Or something Egwene would say in ToM or aMoL, come to think of it.

It might be cool if Rand remembers this phrase to throw back in Moiraine’s face when she is doubting and questioning his plans or methods.

29:00 “I know what’s right” is exactly what zealots and lunatics say in such situations. Or what writers have characters say because they can’t think up a good explanation and want the audience to accept what they believe is right, and move on.

29:32 Moiraine’s current outfit makes her look particularly casual-sloppy, like she’s tromping around the house in a bathrobe she couldn’t be bothered to belt closed.

29:43 “Nothing an Aes Sedai says is optional” is more stupid phrasing. What does optional even mean in this case?

30:30 Rand and Nynaeve are making very good points, and they are even bringing up an actual character beat, that they mistrust Moiraine because she keeps so many things to herself. But the way this is being played out makes it seem like Egwene is the one who is supposed to be right. Because she is the one arguing in favor of the way the writers want the conflict to go. They want this prophecy accepted as a foregone conclusion, because the certainty of death is the crux of the debate.

30:46 Nosewart

30:55 My super-uncharitable-where-Egwene-is-concerned mindset (that I make an effort to turn off for these reviews, for the record) is suggesting that Egwene, who believes herself to be the main character in the story, is leaning hard on going along with Moiraine, because she honestly believes she is the Dragon and will not be killed and is looking forward to proving her heroism and power.

31:03 For the record, the period in the books when Egwene would say something like this to Nynaeve is, more or less, book 3, when she is still acting out her PTSD from her enslavement under the Seanchan. What concerns me is that the writers really think Nynaeve is just being spiteful with regard to Moiraine, given how they have her saying something negative or suspicious at every turn, and are, in turn, having Egwene voice this as a fact.

31:15 It wasn’t Nynaeve’s pride in the books, it was her protectiveness over the four young people. She was hostile to Moiraine because she didn’t like what she saw and didn’t want her harming or abandoning the kids like she seems capable of doing for everyone else. That was the gist of all of Nynaeve’s questioning of Moiraine, why isn’t she helping or why is she putting them in the current danger.

31:18 Nosewart

31:35 Yeah, see? It’s like Egwene cannot even encompass the idea that it could be Mat. Or she thinks Perrin is making excuses to wuss out.

31:48 Okay, not just me seeing that. Also, nosewart

32:05 ITB Emond’s Field is a community where no one is ignorant of these sorts of details about their neighbors. Also, if the Cauthons were as dissolute and degenerate as the show wants us to see them, it’s the sort of place where people would be making efforts to help Mat is they could see he was legit trying to step up and do right by the girls, if they were not performing interventions on Abel and Natti. For all the discussion of the Women’s Circle seems to center on them being busybodies and controlling like the church elders of a New England colonial community, they would absolutely be taking a hand with the situation we are shown on screen, and Tam and a few guys would have given Abell a presentation on the right way a man cares for his family, with Master Luhan’s fists making the most salient points if necessary.

But then again, small towns and close-knit communities and family values will never ever get a fair shake in Hollywood.

32:37 What the hell is this!? Perrin and Rand are rivals for Egwene? Rand embarks on a rivalry for a woman’s attentions? ITB he couldn’t even maintain the moral high ground of his girlfriend’s double standard on what counts as cheating.

Also, notice how Nynaeve keeps saying ‘stop it’ to no avail in the background? Because the Two Rivers folk always just ignore Nynaeve in book 1, right? Setting aside the playing with her contrarian nature and temper to get those traits wrong, the show is completely destroying Nynaeve’s presence and authority.

32:43 Maybe Egwene liked it?

32:20 If Perrin was proposing to Laila, he had to have been dating her, right? So he was dating Laila while carrying a torch for Egwene? How does this make any sense? And how does it make sense for Rand to be saying this? Edit from the future: This could actually be taint paranoia. We'll have to see if that symptom ever comes up.

33:48 Nosewart

35:29 This remorse is weirdly out of character for Moiraine. Even when she is contemplating their partnership in the context of doing right by Lan, during her PoV chapter at Vandene & Adealas’ place in Book 2, it’s about taking horribly invasive and unethical means to protect and save him. She knows that bonding Lan gave him a reason to stay alive and keep going, rather than die fighting the Blight to prevent being used for futile crusades or political gambits.

Of course, that might not be the case in this world, where people talk smack to Aes Sedai and treat them like political equals, rather than an institution that can more or less veto a political action with taking the Uncrowned King of Malkier off the board by making him a warder.

35:40 Moiraine was very aware ITB and concerned by the fact that she is Lan’s whole life and purpose, and she wants to make sure he doesn’t lose those things without her. She perceives this singular focus as a useful asset given the importance of her goals, but is also aware of the human cost.

See this is why I watch the show. Because by being so fricking stupid about the characterization, it’s forcing me to think about it to get it right and thereby realize the perspective of a character even when I think they’re being 100% wrong.

37:42 This is flat out bad filmmaking. He was there when she turns away and he’s in a totally different place when she looks up, despite having to pass through a wall.

37:50 I feel like “tracking” is going to become a memetic euphemism, either in-show or in the fandom, for Lanaeve romantic interaction.

38:07 Again with the negging. “Are you just going to stand there?” instead of “why don’t you join us?”

39:14 That child looks weird. Like it doesn’t fit with the family.

39:54 “You didn’t give me much of a choice” Again, with the snark. It’s not much of a joke, and he himself noted that she was just standing there, so it’s not like she was pushing in on him. Why can’t he just say he was glad to have her or make a more on-point comment about her pushing into his business?

People actually claim to have cried at their first and only intimate conversation in the books. What was wrong with that version, on a show with so many pacing issues, that is already wasting so much time on superfluous things? Lan and Nynaeve get to the point, they don’t make awkward small talk while keeping their feelings to themselves. They are absolutely clear when they talk to one another about their feelings and relationship. Ending a date on “um, well, good night” is more of a Rand and Elayne pattern or for Perrin and Faile, in some ways.

41:47 Okay, sure, Nynaeve’s a ho-bag. Why not.

42:37 I always wonder about the value of Hollywood archery practice, which seems to take place at point-blank range. For all I know, that’s how they do it, but it seems kind of odd, given how windage and elevation would effect an arrow so much more than a bullet, and thus long-range practice would be different from close-range.

42:44 It would be cool if Rand’s difficulty aiming was because his concentration technique was established and he was starting to feel freaky stuff when he used it, so he’s afraid to turn to it again. Otherwise, why even is he an archer? That’s the point of that character trait, and the reason he never once touches a bow again after he starts to use the Power consciously and deliberately. Edit from the future: This might actually be the case. It would be really nice to see some indication that the writers are consciously doing this, because at this point, without some evidence, I am perfectly willing to accept this was sheer coincidence, that a screenwriting trope happens to overlap with an aspect of WoT.

42:47 Egwene would absolutely sulk off and wait for someone to come apologize, but there’s no way she gives up on her own after only an hour.

42:59 That tracks, Rand.

43:35 Nosewart. Also, I feel like this is a sort of “we’re all going to die tomorrow” kind of scenario, that’s going to end with them ‘doing the dishes’ if you get my drift. I kind of hope not, though.

43:57 On-character. Egwene absolutely believes the rules don’t apply to her, and by extension, her friends. She was totally going to teach Rand to channel, any day now! The White Tower doesn’t know what it’s talking about. It’s totally a smart, safe and sensible thing to hide Rand from the only people who can prevent him from turning Fal Dara into a volcano, and hiding him among the highest-priority protected people in the keep without their knowledge or consent, no less! The rules don’t apply to them and they will be fine!

44:12 Like, I think the writers are trying to do right by Rand, by having him be supportive, but it’s also a conversation that would have more meaning if he was actually starting to channel and aware of it. Except Egwene is one of the first to find out, so it wouldn’t make sense. Okay, fine.

44:24 How did Egwene make the mistake once before, that is the equivalent of going to the Tower without Rand? Why are they working so hard to sell us on the devotion of this couple at a point when Rand, ITB is already feeling a sense of doom about them? Of course, he has yet to hear Min’s viewing that made him aware of it…

44:39 Dun duh dunnnnn! Gawyn Foreshadowing. He is coming. But seriously, this was Egwene’s idea ITB, and it felt like a case of denial when she articulated it, like she herself is trying to overcompensate for either the forebodings about their quest or even the inevitable estrangement of a couple with very different goals. Again, a thing better said if Rand is aware of his channeling and is trying to cover to his friends. Hmph.

45:04 Nosewart. Not going to get into the issues with Egwene’s statement until that scenario comes up for real.

46:02 “Why did he call you Dai Shan?” You know, Nynaeve? I really don’t want to hear the butchered explanation. Why has the show not set up Lan’s backstory reveal with a more pertinent and specific-to-Lan reference, like Last Lord of the Seven Towers or the Golden Crane or even the slightest mention of Malkier? Edit from the future: You're back on track.

46:25 So after misstating other Old Tongue terms like "Machin Shin", or "Ishamael", now they are ignoring the meaning of "Dai Shan", which is obvious to even the most Old-Tongue-oblivious reader as having the word for ‘battle’ in there. No, Dai Shan is just the Malkieri equivalent of Crown Prince.

46:40 Does a WoTNovice grasp the significance of a whole nation being overrun by the Blight? Have we made it clear what the Blight is?

46:58 Malkier was overrun by Trollocs, at least if we are talking about the one particular night when al’Akir and el’Leanna died.

47:58 Lan’s problem is not that he didn’t have anyone, it was that he had too many people with impossible expectations. That is why he accepted Moiraine bonding him (I’ll forgive Nynaeve’s mix up of active and passive voice in that regard due to Liandrin). But the show is making up this interpretation for Tragedy. And to force a conflict in their romance. I mean, they jumped right into bed, what’s to stop these two kids from making a go of it?

48:29 Lan would absolutely accept or even present the fact of his bond as an obstacle to a relationship with Nynaeve. And he’d do it before sleeping with her.

49:13 Is why they had the Shaiel flashback at the beginning? To draw the viewers’ attention to Tam being the one holding a sword on her at the end?

49:24 Ohhhh. They’re saving the baby reveal for now. This better be good. I’ve acknowledged and tried to take into account the difficulty of adapting Rand’s largely interior conflicts and arc to the screen, but hearing Tam say he’s adopted is something that could naturally be shown to the viewers to help them understand context for issues Rand deals with.

The only thing I can think is that by keeping Rand’s hidden parentage a secret, they were preserving the mystery of who was the actual Dragon. Which is stupid. More sacrificing characterization in order to play games with the audience.

50:07 Kind of sneaky, hiding the channeling all this time.

50:10 Okay, if it was Rand who channeled at the Trolloc, why didn’t Moiraine try to follow up on the fact that she absolutely did not feel saidar? Are they just not going to have the rules for channeling or are they hoping no one will ask that question when they reveal the rules?

50:36 Min is not very attractive.

50:45 Haha. Funny joke. But A. that’s not how her powers work and B. if it is, why doesn’t she know what he wants?

51:30 I’ve always sort of felt Rand’s actual, potential and former love interests represented his origins. Min was the common ordinary type from the ass end of nowhere. Egwene was the home he had to leave behind. Elayne and Aviendha represented his parents and his destiny as a leader for both peoples. Lanfear was for the possibility of him going bad. Else was how he never had a chance at a mundane adventurous life and Berelain and the various Cairhien women were about the kind of involvement with the politics and social games he needed to remain above. But now Min is from Tar Valon or the Borderlands, and nothing to do with him.

51:38 De-aged Tam is barely recognizable. He looks more like Eddie Marsan, with those weird-looking eyes. I doubt I’d have known who that was supposed to be, even with the heron-mark imagery, if I didn’t know it from the books and the flashback with him talking to Rand.

52:03 Min’s viewing is, I believe, the first mention of the Dragon being Reborn on the slopes of Dragonmount. So how is the significance supposed to register here? Also, it makes no sense, for the record, that Rand would have any memory of the mountain, since LTT died before it was formed (and his role in creating it being another datum elided from the show thus far) and Baby Rand would probably not have been able to visually comprehend something that remote at that age.

52:48 By the way, that viewing does jack all to prove anything, aside from the bit about the sword (but that could have been any blademaster, hence the subsequent details) since Nynaeve, Mat, Perrin and Egwene were also raised in a wooden house surrounded by fields of sheep in a land between two rivers.

53:11 I’m going to assume “rainbows and carnivals and three beautiful women” is Min being sarcastic and at the same time, slipping in the truth to avoid mentioning their future. So let’s please not get into a debate about what carnivals and rainbows refers to. Back on wotmania, the FAQ would already have started a page listing which sister of each Ajah is a candidate for Rand’s rainbow, because clearly it means the colors of the Ajahs, so there is going to be one sister of each who will be needed and is the Green Alanna or Elayne? And carnival means either his adventures in the Foregate or his dream of going to the White Tower or clearly a reference to book 6 and we’d all be calling each other stupid.

I miss wotmania. Even if all the best people from there are clearly all here, still active on the RAFOMB, of course.

And the casting department is 0 for 1 so far on the “three beautiful women” department.

Unless they’re making Min look dull now so that when she starts dressing up it’s more striking?

54:23 Wow, really nosewart, there.

54:40 Egwene, who just slept with a guy, prodding at Nynaeve’s walk of shame, is totally in character.

55:02 As is not letting Nynaeve off the hook despite, given their last interaction, things being good with her and Rand again.

55:41 You had Rand last, Egwene. What did you do with him? Although, again, boyfriends being something of an afterthought is also an Egwene trait.

55:42 It would have been really funny if Perrin & Moiraine hooked up because they were the only ones not getting laid before half the group dies.

I just realized Mat is the only one of the main seven characters not to have had sex this season. I’m counting Perrin because he was married when the show started and touched Laila in a creepy familiar manner. When this show wants to get the characters wrong, it doesn’t do it halfway.

56:18 I don’t think that’s why Rand knocked on Moiraine’s door, but the way the show is going…

56:20 No shit, Lan. Even if she likes Nynaeve, maybe especially if she likes Nynaeve, she doesn’t want to feel what you were doing last night. This is really the only cited ITB reason for the masking, except when Aes Sedai and Warder find themselves at odds over something like him being a wolfbrother or her being a Darkfriend and she’s trying to hide from him.

56:43 I don’t know why this is necessary. The show is trying to make a bigger issue of this being a group effort and not make Rand the front-and-center lead character. Why then have him and Moiraine sneak off alone to go to the Eye of the World, whatever that is? Either they are missing their own point (not surprising, since it was also explicitly the point in the books, and not an element that needed strengthening, so they seem to have missed it on adaptation), or they are being particularly ham-fisted about it.

And they have set it up so a potential group venture is just stupid, because of the prophecy which as far as we know, suggests the others will be dead weight, not a necessary sacrifice. The whole point from the moment Siuan brought it up was that if they know which one the Dragon is, of course, the others would be left behind to save their lives, but we’re going to take all of them to learn by elimination, in the most brutal sense of the word, which one is the Dragon Reborn. So, it would make no sense for them to all show up and provide critical help to Rand and Moiraine to rebuke their notion of going alone to save their lives. Like, I feel that if, ITB, Verin had revealed to the group the “five ride forth and four return” prophecy, Rand, Mat, Perrin, Hurin and Ingtar would all still have volunteered to go into Falme, because someone has to. This prophecy is framed in a way to suggest that no one who is not the Dragon has any business going to the Eye for this showdown. Like if Callandor killed those who tried to touch it without being the Dragon Reborn. Once Rand is convinced it’s him, you don’t let Perrin and Egwene try to grab it unless he fails.

56:55 The Blight looks like a planted hedge or something. The gross plant noises are good, but they look like the same tree. Like this is an old video game background with recurring images. It seems like an obstacle, not a hostile environment.

Bleh. A lot of how I think about this episode will depend on how everything is wrapped up next week. I am trying to be fair, but I don’t have high hopes. But at least there’s “The Expanse” for the next few Thursdays. Another highly successful adaptation that, would you believe it, hews closely to the story in the books! Even if they had to spread book 1 over seasons 1 and 2, which necessitated splitting book 2 into seasons 2 & 3 and compressing book 3 into the back half of season 3. You can do that stuff if you stick with the plot and characters as the proven-successful authors did. Does anyone really care that Naomi is clearly black while Ade is Scandinavian and not African? No, because she’s close enough to book Naomi (actually, come to think of it, she isn’t; she’s a huge whiner and annoyingly PC and self-righteous) and the conflicts and dynamics are just about identical to the books. As was the case with LotR and early GoT. When they began making changes in The Hobbit and later GoT, everything went to shit. Just like “The Expanse” would if they decided to make up TV adventures for the survivors of Season 6/Babylon’s Ashes, that are not covered by the books, and still might because they killed off a core character for off-screen issues. Seriously, recast. If nothing else, that sends a message about bad behavior, that the actor is replaceable, rather than saying “This actor is the only one who can play this character, so we will kill the character if we can’t use the actor.” Like WoT might be doing, assuming there is an actual plan motivating Mat being left behind and it was not forced by whatever caused them to recast Harris.

#wot on prime #season 1 #timestamp annotations #books vs show

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denimbex1986 · 10 months

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It’s the Summer of Barbenheimer and we’re all just living in the shadow of its hot pink mushroom cloud. The double whammy of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer offered audiences one of the most exciting cinema double bills since long before the pandemic, and they came out in droves for both. Now, Barbie is the second highest-grossing movie of 2023 so far, and Oppenheimer, a three-hour biographical drama about the Manhattan Project, has grossed more money than The Little Mermaid and Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One.

The frenzy this double bill inspired, from themed parties and cocktails to the best memes of the season, drove home the genuine desire that film lovers had for something they could truly sink their teeth into. Sure, one is based on a toy and the other is a pretty traditional biopic, but both films represented a kind of change that we needed in the pop culture landscape. One such yearning: more stand-alone movies!

...we’ve come to expect a tease for a cinematic universe that may or may not come to fruition. Remember the Dark Universe? Or the six-film King Arthur universe Guy Ritchie was supposed to make? Or the Robin Hood series with Taron Egerton that ended after the first installment? There’s a reason people were wondering if films like Oppenheimer would have a post-credits sequence: because we’re so painfully used to having every movie end with a tacked-on promise for more, whether or not it makes sense or there’s any true hunger for it (and the possibility of an Oppenheimer post-credits scene is faintly terrifying: Which creation of a devastating weapon does it hint at next?).

Why is it now so rare to get a stand-alone film with a beginning, middle, end, and a guarantee of a complete narrative? Yes, us grumpy critics have been complaining about sequel overload for decades now, but things definitely feel different now. You can watch Die Hard and be perfectly satisfied because it existed as its own thing long before the idea of a sequel entered the filmmakers’ brains. It doesn’t spend half its running time setting up hints for future stories and a bunch of story threads that are never paid off. There’s also a distinct lack of adult-focused mid-budget films in the current theatrical market. While neither Barbie nor Oppenheimer technically qualify for this since both films cost over $100 million, they do fit into that increasingly rare niche by merit of their focus on telling a singular story that isn’t dependent on the viewer having to do a ton of homework before tuning in.

...when I see articles offering ideas for Barbie sequels, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Part of what made Gerwig’s film so special was its densely layered, funny, heart-aching, and complete story. You leave the theater feeling so satisfied because you got what you were promised (and so much more). Oppenheimer is complex, with a vast ensemble and most of its lengthy running time dedicated to conversations about physics and ethics that Nolan refuses to dumb down. Why would you ever walk out of that film wondering about plans for an expanded universe? You just know some studio head floated the idea at some point.

It seems like so little to ask for, yet it feels inevitable that Hollywood will learn all the wrong lessons from the success of Barbie and Oppenheimer. Expect more sequels about toys and fewer emotionally driven tales that give viewers exactly what they want. But our hunger for stand-alone stories remains strong. We don’t have the time nor inclination to watch every film we see evolve into a decade-plus commitment that has a strong chance of being abandoned long before it reaches that much-hyped climax. Let Barbenheimer lead the way and remind Hollywood that it’s okay for things to end.'

#Oppenheimer #Barbie #Barbenheimer #Greta Gerwig #Mission Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One #Christopher Nolan #The Manhattan Project #The Little Mermaid

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stuarthull2 · 2 years

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angelplummie · 3 years

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Okay so like for starterssssss, I love getting represented as a chubby gal 🥺🥺 so I love you for writing that last Oikawa imagineeeee 😩😩😩

Soooo, I was wondering if I could request a plus size reader that really likes Kuroo, (and he’s like a super cliché bad boy🤰🏽) but he’s too embarrassed to be seen with Y/n. So she starts to hit on his friend or try to make him jealous. (I want you to add your own little idea here! But likeee, make her a baddie 😘😘)

Thanks baby 😚

HE’S A SCUMBAG DON’T YOU KNOW

KUROO X CHUBBY F!READER

Angsty?? kinda, a pinch of suggestive stuff

masterlist

post girlboss was referring to

a/n:i decided to go for emo / anger issues / definitely has punched a hole in his wall kuroo, just cuz i love writing losers, and i love seeing grown men cry. reader is like 20/21 just like college age yk, kuroo is 23 as stated in fic. p.s where my artic monkey hoes at

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex n specific sexual acts, suggestive stuff, uhhh bad boy but he’s not a (bad boy) he’s just a (bad) (boy) he’s just no good, like no fr never date guys like this, he may SEEM COOL and give you the dick but girl you will be so embarrassed once u realised u gave up the kitty for a man that genuinely believes tame impala and mac demarco are unheard of and calls himself an empath even though he’s mean to his mum every time she comes over to help with the laundry and has manipulated every girl he’s ever been in the vicinity of but i digress! on with the story!

“Kuroo-!” you yelped in surprised, bed bouncing beneath you. The second he had thrown you down, he ripped off his shirt and made a noise of frustration when he couldn’t shed his skinny jeans fast enough. Brows furrowed, he began hopping furiously to yank them off.

You laughed, much to his annoyance.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep up with that. What’s the rush?”

He sighed, and carefully pulled them off his ankles. Standing up straight, he seemed to have composed himself, with that cocky smirk on his rugged face. Your eyes trailed down his lean, long body. It was all you could do not to scream, he was so gorgeous. He took a few sweeping steps to where you lay, and got right on top of you, hands either side of your head. His eyes bore into you, it made you squirm internally, not that you would ever admit it.

“Just want you so bad, kitten.”

You barked out a laugh as if your heart didn’t jolt at his stupid pet name. It was such a stupid name, but coming from him it made you melt. Again, not like you’d ever admit it.

“Ew, Tetsu don’t call me kitten, it’s cr-“

He cut you off by leaning down and kissing you, you could feel his snake bites against your bottom lip. He groaned softly, shoving his tongue down your throat. He tasted like his sour apple vape, and his hair was soft when you ran your fingers through it. You could barely contain your butterflies, eyes squeezed closed.

“Come on babe, you know you like it.”

No matter how many times you and Kuroo hung out, it always felt so fresh. Maybe it was because he was exciting, or because he was a little bit wild, you didn’t know.

He leaned down closer to you, getting on his elbows, deepening the kiss. He pulled away and smirked at your breathlessness. With a slender, ring adorned hand, he reached beneath your top and cupped your tits over your bra. He gave them a sharp squeeze and started placing chaste kisses on your neck. He was considerate like that, didn’t leave hickeys because he knew they’d be hard to cover for you. He groaned as he jiggled the fat of your boobs in his hands,

“God, you have the nicest tits, babe.”

You had been dating for nearly 3 months now, if that was what it was. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what you were. You hang out all the time at his or your place, there was rarely a time when you didn’t have an ache between your legs, one way or another. He didn’t really take you on ‘dates’ but chatting to him was fun in itself, you didn’t need to go out to do that. He didn’t necessarily say romantic stuff either... but he didn’t not say romantic stuff either? He beat up your ex at a party one time! That had to mean something right? He exactly wouldn’t tell you how he felt but he showed you, kissing your cheek or tilting your chin up to look at him or kissing your neck or feeling you up. But that usually led to sex, so you couldn’t be certain. It wasn’t like you only screwed though, you watched your favourite movies together... although the last couple times he just started fingering you. You showed him your playlists? No no, he showed you his playlists, his sex playlists. There seemed to be a common theme here. But... there were times, afterwards, when he would pull in you so tight, tell you how good you were for him, how well you did, how pretty you looked. Any doubts you had were gone after a few hushed words on his tobacco reeking rickety old bed. You’d never really had a relationship like this before, but you assumed it was just because Kuroo was so chill. You were probably boyfriend and girlfriend, he just didn’t feel the need to announce it, he was laidback like that. So what if you guys had a lot of sex? Weren’t you a new couple? Wasn’t this just the honeymoon stage were you can’t get your hands off each other? You didn’t want to seem high maintenance and nag, so you let it be. He was sweet enough to you, right now everything was good.

Until it wasn’t.

A clatter sounded downstairs, the door slamming open against the hallway wall.

“Kuroo! Hey man, I brought some California!”, a voice called from bellow.

Kuroo broke away immediately, spit trailing from your neck to his pink lips.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kuroo mumbled, pushing off the bed and scrambling the pick up his discarded clothes and shove them back on.

You sat up, disgruntled, rearranging your bra strap from were he’d kneaded at it.

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

He shot you a glance before continuing to yank back on his jeans.

“Uh, so change of plan, I can’t do tonight. I need you to go home. Discreetly.”

What?

“What? Tetsu, I’m already here,” you scoffed.

What was going on?

Why was he acting like this?

You had never seen him so... frantic.

“I know babe, and I’m really sorry about that, but my friends are here early than I said.”

“So? Can’t I meet your friends?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, just let out an exasperated breath, zipping up his fly.

“Well, yeah you can meet them, just not with me. I don’t want them knowing that I-“

He cut himself off, but you had heard enough to understand.

There was a beat of silence, only disturbed by Kuroo’s friends calling for him.

Your mouth hung open, and you scoffed in shock.

You shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s so obvious now that you think about it. So that’s what this was. That explains everything. He didn’t really like you, he was just using you. That’s why he didn’t take you anywhere, or why he didn’t show you he cared. It was because he didn’t. He wasn’t “afraid of getting close to people” or “emotionally distant”, he was just upfront about not giving two shits about you aside from your vagina. I guess he didn’t want his friends to know he was furiously screwing a fat girl any chance he got. He was embarrassed of you. You were something to be ashamed of. Your stomach jerked as you got to your feet. You were pissed, but that didn’t mean it didn’t really hurt. You had liked him. A lot.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You could see the panic in his eyes, it was quite funny actually. Of course you new what it meant, but it still made you feel a little better to watch his eyes widen like that, to hold a shred of power over him.

“I mean- well I didn’t- come on babe you know I didn’t mean it like that-“ he laughed nervously, not noticing the footsteps in the landing. You rolled your eyes. You may have been naive, but you certainly weren’t going to fall for his shit again. Whatever he spouted.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Just say it, your embarrassed of me.”

“Y/N, please, don’t you think-“

Two men burst through the door, one with spiked grey hair and one with fluffy black hair.

“Kuroo! What the hell are you doing up here we’ve been-“ the grey haired one, stopped when his eyes went from a shirtless Kuroo to you.

Your eyes flickered to Kuroo, he looked mortified.

“Ah. I see. Well, Akaashi, we better give these two some time, we can just-“

“Oh no, I was just leaving,” you grabbed your jacket from on top of his chest of drawers and turned back to the two men, putting on a big smile, adrenaline and fury spurring you on.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Your eyes shot to Kuroo, who looking like get was about to shit himself.

“You probably haven’t heard of me, me and Kuroo have actually been having sex for three months. He kept it a secret because he’s embarrassed of me. We should hang out soon though!”

“Y/N-!” Kuroo yelled, exasperation clear in his tone, but you were already descending the stairs.

He came into the hall, hands rubbing his temples.

“Y/N just come talk for a second, I can-“

But he was cut off by the door slamming.

You got in your car parked outside and sped away.

The whir of the engine and the monotony of the roads cleared your mind a bit, a mist of anger still remaining.

You can’t believe you let yourself be tricked. you were a fully grown woman, but you had been reeled in hook, line and sinker. Not only had you been reeled in, you have been reeled in by a man that still had tik tok LED lights in his room and a fucking monster can collection at the age of 24 fucking years old. The more you thought about him, the more you realised how much of an emo loser he was. Of course you were still hurting, but it was more of the angry hurt you feel when it turns out your crush is homophobic or something (been there done that, don’t ask). He was a waste of oxygen, you had decided by the time you made it back to your apartment. A waste of perfectly good space that could most definitely not get the kitty anymore. You got inside your house, pulled on some comfies and got on facetime with your friends.You told them all about what happened, and they passionately bitched about him with you, confirming your suspicion that they never liked him in the first place. They also told you to forget about his existence, he wasn’t worth a slither of your brain power, he was dirt compared to you. All in all, you felt marginally better, saying goodbye to your friends while they still giggled about how stupid Kuroo’s hair was.

This was just a speed bump, you thought as you tucked yourself into bed, you would get over this.

Fast.

“Who’s Bokuto been talking to all night?” Yamamoto leaned over to ask Lev, shouting over the blaring music.

It was a week after you had thrown Kuroo to the curb, and he was out with a couple of volleyball friends, some from Nekoma, but there was also Bokuto with them.

“I’m not sure. I think it’s Y/N something? She’s in class. She’s pretty chill.”

Kuroo’s ears perked up, and he turned around to face his friends up against the bar.

“Bokuto’s talking to who?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Y/N. She goes to my-“

“I know who Y/N is,” kuroo snapped, taking a swig of the beer in his hand and scanning the dance floor for either one of you. He found bokuto first, shoulder against the wall, holding a drink as he leant down to have you whisper something in his ear. That’s when Kuroo paid attention to you. You looked... you looked gorgeous. He felt jealousy creep up inside him. How many times had you been out looking like that since you broke things off? How many guys had you slept with since? How dare Bokuto chat you up when he knew you two had been a thing? Wasn’t he meant to be Kuroo’s friend? As Kuroo wound himself up, you and bokuto continued your extremely pleasant conversation.

“I just wanna say, sorry about Kuroo. He’s a real bonehead, but we’ve been friends since high school so I can’t ditch him.”

You snorted into your cocktail.

“What?”

“Bonehead?”

He frowned and straightened up indignantly.

“Yeah, and? What’s wrong with bonehead?”

“No no, nothing, it’s just very Legally Blonde.”

He beamed down at you.

“I love Legally Blonde!”

“You do? Me too!”

This big beefy man was very cute, you had been talking for nearly three hours now, but you never ran out of things to say. And, aside from the obligatory introduction compliments, he had not made any move to try and get you into a wendy’s bathroom as quick as possible, which you couldn’t say of yours and kuroo’s first meeting.

He had dreamy eyes, you noted as he smiled for the nth time that night.

“Whose your favourite-?”

“What the fuck are you doing man?”

You glanced scathingly over to the familiar face of your old fling.

“What?” Bokuto asked back, clearly done with his friends bad boy shtick.

“Why are you talking to her when... when you know?”

“What’s there to know? I’m talking to her because I want to, and she wants to.”

He looked over to you for approval.

“Right?”

You nodded, a little nervous. You hated Kuroo’s guts, but you knew how weirdly possessive he was, you didn’t wanna cause trouble for Bokuto.

“See? Now I don’t think she wants to see you, right?”

He looked at you again. You nodded again.

“Ok? You guys are over, now are we done?”

Kuroo huffed. His eyes flitted from Bokuto to you, remembering you were there most likely, and he scowled.

“No, we aren’t done, what are you trying to pull anyway? Trying to piss me off by talking to someone I know? Are you really that petty? Well, your little plan is working, so just-just stop, ok?”

You felt like screaming. You had just come out here to have a nice time, not listen to Kuroo’s narcissistic whining.

“Can you just fuck off? Was I not clear enough or something? You’re dead to me, Kuroo. I’m just trying to have a nice night.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped open. He had never been spoken to like that, never. He clenched his fists at his sides and his glare intensified.

“You’re lucky I gave you the time of day, fat ugly slut.”

He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulder roughly, turning him to face him completely.

“Hey man, thanks for clearing up my sloppy seconds, really good of you. Good to know I’ve got great friends like you.”

Those were the last things out of Kuroo’s mouth before bokuto landed a punch on his cheek, knocking him to the ground.

“You’re a fucking asshole man,” Bokuto grunted.

He stepped over where Kuroo lay, and held out a hand for you to step over too. You took it quietly and trailed along behind him to the door, fingers still locked. His hands were warm, and big. Kuroo’s face must hurt right now. The thought made you smile. He held the door open for you before sighing, resting his back against the wall. You stood in front of him, twiddling with your fingers.

“I am so sorry about that,” You apologised, embarrassed and shaken by the scene Kuroo had made, “I shouldn’t have wound him up, and I shouldn’t have talked to you after I knew you guys were friends, I promise I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry for not making him leave right away. And either way,” he gently reached for your hand again, and you let him take it,”I’m glad you talked to me. I’d like it if you talked to me even more.”

DISCLAIMER FOR KUROO STANS!!!! I DONT THINK HIS HAIR IS STUPID!!! it’s just when ur bestie is going thru a break up or anything entailing a male you shit talk everything about him to high hell, doesn’t matter if he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. also i have no ill will towards kuroo nor any of the characters i write shit bag fan fics about i just like to complain any way i hope you enjoyed! reblogs and replies always appreciated!!!

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