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gwenllian-in-the-abbey · 2 months

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Do you think that book!Alicent was a one dimensional evil stepmother and the show has fixed her by making her a sad victim of the men around her? I don't agree with this take but i see so many people argue in favour of stripping her of her agency in the show in that book!Alicent was nothing but a misogynistic caricature made by the sexist maesters.

Thanks for this question anon! I had actually been meaning to write something about the "evil stepmother" accusations that get thrown at book!Alicent because having recently re-read F&B, I just don't see it.

First of all, and I think most notably, Alicent's relationship with Rhaenyra doesn't really deteriorate completely until Daemon returns to court. Before that, we don't really have much information about the first few years of Viserys' marriage. The fandom likes to claim that Alicent was beefing with a 9 year old but that isn't really backed up with much evidence. After the account that nine year old Rhaenyra poured for her new stepmother at Alicent and Viserys' wedding (and on a seriously wtf note, helped undress her father for the bedding, but that's another topic), the next words we have about Alicent and Rhaenyra are when Alicent quips, about Rhaenyra's relationship with Criston Cole, "Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies, but who protects the princess from Ser Criston?" And y'all? This is not beefing or bullying. Alicent is pointing out that Rhaenyra, now about 13-ish, is in a vulnerable position as an unmarried young woman. Is she also possibly picking up on some weird predatory vibes with Criston? Perhaps (which is also also interesting, considering Criston later defects to Alicent's camp)! Remember, book!Criston is only a year younger than Daemon, so anything between them would not only be completely off limits because Criston is a kingsguard, but also extremely inappropriate just based on their ages alone. Regardless, Rhaenyra is at this point surrounded by a lot of men ("many lords and knights sought her favor") and Alicent alone seems cognizant of the danger this poses.

After this, the relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra evidently deteriorates, but we're not told precisely how, only that the "amity between Her Grace and her stepdaughter had proved short lived, for both Rhaenyra and Alicent aspired to be the first lady of the realm..." Keep in mind, this is Gyldayn editorializing without a source, and as for being "first lady of the realm," it's just as likely that Rhaenyra was jealous of her stepmother's position as queen as it was that Alicent had any particular animosity towards Rhaenyra. In any case, the book does not suggest that either of them are at fault for the breakdown.

This is also around the time that Otto gets sent home for bugging Viserys about the succession, so that probably had something to do with it, although this still does not amount to Alicent beefing with a child, as it's doubtful she brought up the situation to Rhaenyra herself, but rather she and Otto brought the issue to Viserys. And although I don't really want to get into the succession weeds here, I do want to make it clear that the expectation that Viserys would make his firstborn son his heir was an entirely reasonable one. Everywhere except for Dorne, sons inherit before daughters, and if Viserys had made it clear before he married Alicent that he had no intention of replacing Rhaenyra as heir, Otto might not have married Alicent to Viserys in the first place. There are multiple examples of men with daughters but no sons remarrying in order to get a male heir. It's the only reason Corlys offered Laena as a bride to Viserys (and, arguably, Corlys would have had the leverage to force the issue, which is perhaps one reason why he did not choose Laena). And it wasn't just Otto and Alicent-- people asked "what of the ruling of the Great Council in 101?" But Viserys basically told naysayers to shut up and stop asking. Okay.

Then we have the dress incident, and at this point Rhaenyra is 14, Daemon is back in town, and there's a tourney on. Alicent wears a green dress, Rhaenyra wears a black and red one. It's interesting that in this chapter, no additional context is given to this event. Much earlier in F&B, we do learn that the High Tower is lit green to call its banners against Maegor the Cruel. The show makes this association clear, but Gyldayn does not say that Alicent did this as a declaration of war on Rhaenyra, only that "the queen wore a green gown, whilst the princess dressed dramatically in Targaryen red and black." If you've read F&B, you know that Gyldayn loves editorializing, so the fact that the association made by the show is completely omitted here suggest that Gyldayn lacked this context, or people at the time of the event simply thought it was a green dress with no additional meaning, or perhaps he expected in-world readers to draw their own conclusions (although it's kind of unlike Gyldayn to resist showing off his knowledge when he can). Regardless, after that, the people gave them the nickname the blacks and the greens, and it stuck.

Anyway, it's clear Alicent and Rhaenyra aren't getting along at this point, and they probably resent each other, but there is no mention of Alicent actually doing anything whatsoever to harm Rhaenyra, much less "bullying a child who has just lost her mother" or "beefing with a nine year old." This seems to be a complete invention. Given that book!Rhaenyra is a spoiled only child, by this point a teenager, accustomed to having her father's undivided attention, and now he has a new wife and at this point three new children in his life, it's equally likely that Rhaenyra was feeling displaced and acting out. However, instead of giving her any helpful guidance or correcting her, the trusted adults in her life reinforce her negative feelings, and as we'll see, even use those insecurities to manipulate her. As for Alicent "poisoning her children against Rhaenyra," there's simply zero evidence to back this up. In fact, what eventually happens would seem to suggest that Alicent was at least somewhat concerned about the hostility between her children and Rhaenyra. And here is when things really break down, because this is where Daemon really starts to stir the pot.

Before the tourney, Daemon had been fighting in the stepstones. He returns to King's Landing a hero, and immediately latches onto Rhaenyra. As for Alicent, "although he treated her with all the courtesy due her station, there was no warmth between them, and men said that the prince was notably cool towards her children, especially his nephews, Aegon and Aemond, whose birth had pushed him still lower in the order of succession." So who is, in fact beefing with children? Daemon Targaryen. At the same time, Daemon starts cozying up to Rhaenyra, giving her extravagant gifts, telling her stories, and doing the one thing that is absolutely sure to win over a teenager, being a hater. Daemon hones in on Rhaenyra's issues with Alicent and together they have a great deal of fun openly mocking Alicent and her children, and what Daemon called the "lickspittles" who were in Alicent's camp. This works very well on Rhaenyra because of course it does! Daemon is the cool dragonriding uncle, the handsome Rogue Prince, and Rhaenyra is eating up the attention. She and Daemon have dragonraces and he tells her she's much prettier than Alicent and strokes that teenage ego. It's also at this point that the rumors about Daemon and Rhaenyra having a sexual relationship begin, and Daemon supposedly asks for Rhaenyra's hand in marriage because "who else would take her now?" Keep in mind, she's fourteen. And whether it's true or not, Viserys exiles Daemon again. He goes back to the Stepstones, and things settle down in King's Landing.

Of course the relationship between between Rhaenyra and her stepmother is bad by this point. Her and Daemon have just spent six months mocking her and her children and their supporters. Aegon is only about four or five years old, so the beef has got to be pretty one sided, although even little kids can tell when they're being given the cold shoulder or laughed at. Rhaenyra even makes a point of always referring to them as her half-brothers, rather than simply as her brothers. Still, a few years pass, Rhaenyra is now sixteen, and it's time for her to get married. Alicent proposes she marry Aegon, and one of the reasons she gives is that they don't get along well. "All the more reason to bind them together in marriage," Alicent says, acknowledging that Rhaenyra hating her now six year old younger brother is in fact a big fucking problem. If Alicent hoped for Rhaenyra and Aegon to marry, why on earth would she poison her children against Rhaenyra? But Viserys shoots this idea down, saying "the boy is Alicent's own blood. She wants him on the throne." And yes, of course she does, but she probably also wants him to stay alive.

So, Rhaenyra marries Laenor, and after that there's really no point in trying to maintain any sort of stepmother relationship, is there? Rhaenyra is now an adult, she's married, and she's made her feelings about Alicent and her siblings very clear. At this point, Alicent has to look out for the safety of her children, who are going to be Rhaenyra's biggest rivals. And if they dislike their older half-sister, who can blame them? Again, this is a girl who spent the better half of six months laughing at them. Rhaenyra did nothing but sabotage that relationship. And if Alicent decides she's going to fight for Aegon's inheritance, she's only doing what any mother in her position would do. There's no evidence she does it for power or greed, she simply does it because she doesn't owe Rhaenyra anything and letting someone who is actively hostile to her children take the throne unchallenged, especially when that person's claim is untraditional to say the least, and seen by many as being weaker than that of her sons, would be taking a huge risk with their lives. There's nothing "evil" in Alicent's actions. Book!Alicent did not bully Rhaenyra, did not "beef with a nine year old," or "poison her children against Rhaenyra," in fact, she did what she could to bind them together, but Rhaenyra, (at least in part taking her cues from Viserys and Daemon), was simply not interested. And you know, that's fine too, Rhaenyra doesn't have to love her stepmother or care about her half-brothers. They're much younger and it's natural that she wouldn't be much interested in them. But as heir to the throne? It sure would have been a much smarter idea to cultivate those relationships.

Book!Alicent isn't an "evil stepmother" though either, after a certain point she she simply prioritizes her own children over someone who has made it abundantly clear she has no use for any of them.

#asks #alicent hightower #fire and blood #the greens #anti daemon targaryen

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highlandwhackamole · 1 month

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A Grand(ish) Theory of What the Heck

I love the utterly unhinged, super detailed theories about what's going on in Good Omens, especially in season 2. I hope one or more of them turn out to be true, as some kind of glorious puzzle-box-hidden-code monstrosity. And also I think that there has to be a simpler explanation for things, for the people who are at least Somewhat Normal (tm) about this show. (... I assume such people do exist somewhere...) This is what I have been pondering recently.

The thing that started me thinking about this was this post, containing some promotional materials for season 2 that feature main characters with scenes in their heads. Like this:

Seeing this created a very similar situation in my own head, but with a nice shiny lightbulb.

All the weirdness: the car, the sideburns, the clock, the behavior of the folks of Soho, the vanishing storefront signs. The absence of God. I think this is all because everything we see is in their heads.

I don't mean it's made up. At least not entirely. Memory is already a plot point. Why not explore it on a deeper level? I've read theories emphasizing the minisodes' stories being retold by Aziraphale and Crowley. I think the whole season is like that.

You know that sort of conventional-wisdom-fact-concept that you can only dream faces of people you've seen before (or variations therein), because your brain can't make new faces up? So it just fills in what it thinks is close enough? I think that idea, applied to remembering or recollecting things, could explain so many things that are wonky in this show.

Wonky Things

Crowley parking in an impossible London location? He definitely remembers it was in London, so his brain just stuck some obvious London landmarks in there.

Awkward clattering happening when Crowley throws the stacks of books he's inexplicably carrying around the bookshop? He wouldn't actually throw Aziraphale's books! But he'd like to think he's cool and nonchalant enough to do that, and if he did it would definitely make Some Kind of Noise.

Jim walking toward the bookshop from somewhere mysterious? Maggie and Nina saw him first, and he came from that direction, so he must've walked all that way. They don't know about the elevator in the Donkey.

Aziraphale remembers tartan hills and the Loch Ness monster because he was having a jolly time driving through Scotland, so obviously the scenery must've been whimsical Scottish things.

Nina put the Honolulu roast sign up, so she remembers its presence, but perhaps the occult/ethereal visitors to her shop do not.

Maggie really did text Aziraphale about the rent, but a note through the mail slot is a much more dignified way for a scholarly angel to imagine he received a message.

On the Fallibility of Recall

This season is loaded with unrealistic inclusions. The colors are turned up to 11. Some of the scenes are more caricature than believable interaction. Remembering things never copies or reproduces them with what one might call high fidelity.

Scenes recalled by separate memories will inherently vary. One person's hefty jigger might be another person's dash. Who knows for sure where the sun was that day? You and I might recall an event having different lighting or a different color palette, sort of like viewing something with different lens filters.

According to Neil, Crowley is an unreliable narrator of the story of his Fall. He labels the variations in clock times as a continuity error in a show where Everything Is Meant, but he doesn't say whose continuity error it is. He insists that the Bentley is the same through the whole season; maybe it was the same, but remembered differently. Maybe this is part of why there's more CGI but it's harder to spot.

So What?

Is this all there is to it? I sure hope not. I like my Good Omens with enough layers to put to shame an onion wrapped in a cake and covered in a parfait.

Is this possibly the fancy footwork that's distracting from the real magic trick? I wouldn't put it past Our Gaiman. There are a lot of things one could hide in the narrative of unreliable memory.

Is this going to stop me from rewatching and repondering and remaking theories for the next couple years? Not even at gunpoint.

#good omens #good omens meta #ineffable mystery #neil gaiman #good omens questions #good omens 2

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— count to five + mirio togata.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — when your job as your teacher takes you halfway across japan, you don’t expect a little boy and his father to change your life nearly as much as they do. or the five times in which you encounter mirio togata and his son, yoshi.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, single-parenthood, mention of hospitals, mentions of reader being smaller than mirio, unprotected sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, choking, dacryphilia, auralism, scratching, biting, creampie, squirting, fingering ( f!receiving ), praise!kink, daddy!kink, size!kink - fem!reader, teacher!reader, single-dad!mirio.

⭑ words — 6.3K.

⭑ notes — hi !!! it’s been a while! thank your being patient with me! here’s a little commission written for the lovely @roses-and-whisky who has given me permission to post. i hope you all enjoy !! - m.list ✩

the first time you meet mirio togata, it’s oddly warm for the season— the usual bite to a late autumn’s day nowhere to be found. sunshine beats down on your back, only adding to the heat simmering and rushing through your body as you work to unload moving boxes from the van you’d hired. though, you’re sweaty, and tired from hours of travelling across the cities of Japan, you’re excited for your fresh start. a degree hanging from your belt, plenty of experience behind you— the world is now your oyster.

cardboard filled with knickknacks and memories from your parents, childhood and all your school years sits heavy in your palms before you place it on the sidewalk— knowing that your host in this city will help you move into the gated community nearby, a room with your name painted into the blank white walls already set up for you.

“thas’a cool snow globe!” a childish, boy-ish voice squeaks from beside you once you’ve set the box down— daring to tug your gaze upwards to meet a child who perhaps embodies the same sunshine that’s giving you warmth today. his eyes are a brilliant blue, gaps in his teeth where his adult ones just about break through the gums. the boy points a finger tip covered in blue marker, no doubt, towards the trinket in your box with glimmering matching eyes.

smiling softly, you take it out of your box, thumbing the embossed logo of your university before shaking it and handing it to the tiny blonde. “isn’t it?” you whisper to him like you’re sharing a secret, leaning in real close and cupping his hands in your own. they’re warm. “if you hold it up to the sky, just right…” you add, pushing your hands upward with his to hold the snow globe under the sun. “the light catches on the glitter inside, making a snowy little rainbow!”

“woaaaah! that’s even cooler!”

the boy grins, eyes scintillating like the pearlescent flecks mixed into the water of your snow globe— little bits of white covering the two happy caricatures stuck inside.

“yoshi! how many times do i have to tell you not to run ahead, buddy?” the little boy, that you now know as yoshi, freezes in place— candescent azure eyes shooting over to his father as if he’s been caught in the act. he knows they’ll be late for swimming if they don’t keep walking…but your snow globe is just so cool. if you thought the kid was bright, the man before you is even brighter…the centre of your solar system, a warm heart lodged between his two juicy pecs and a chiselled jaw. he looks like he’s walked straight out of a movie, sending your brain into a tizzy.

he’s stunning and your words come out jumbled as you address him. “is he yours?” you ask, body struck with the heat of the pro hero before you, the sun above you too.

you feel a bit silly for asking the question, the uncanny resemblance between the two becoming even more obvious— as with the fact that it’s lemillion you’re talking to. the elder blonde’s hearty laughter echoing between you both on the side of the street. “yes, he’s mine. all my own flesh and blood,” mirio responds proudly. you’ve always loved children, but you never thought the pro hero would have one of his own.

and you never thought you’d wanted to mother someone’s children as much as you did his. mirio togata, desirable, handsome and good with kids.

“introduce yourself buddy, be polite.”

the little boy nods eagerly, bowing to you with respect after beaming at you warmly. “i-i’m yoshi togata! nice ta’meet you ma’am!”

you giggle and mirio grins. you’re cute, endearing almost— and he finds himself laughing with you.

“it’s lovely to meet you too, yoshi,” you reply, sticking your hand out to shake his tinier one as you give them both your name kindly.

sweet, just like you. mirio likes the way you interact with his son. he likes you, so far.

before mirio can introduce himself back, the driver in your mover’s van honks loudly. “move it lady! i’m not waitin’ out here for you all day or i’m uppin’ the price of your service.” you give the pair an apologetic look in response, offering a high five to yoshi and a shy wave to his dad, scurrying off to finish unloading the van.

and mirio watches you go, for more than one reason.

the second time you encounter mirio togata, is after a disaster— his very reason for existence, his sunshine, little yoshi, nearly loses his light.

you had always wanted to teach. nurturing children into the faces of tomorrow was your calling— guiding them to be good and help others without question…and as it turns out, the graduate teaching position you’d been hired for took in a lot of students who were the children of pro heroes, and the little blonde raised by his almost identical father just so happened to be a student in your kindergarten class. yoshi togata had taken an instant liking to you as his teacher, a child-like wonder akin to magic from fairy tales emitting from the little boy whenever you looked at him, helped him along in reading and solving calculations in the dreaded maths classes.

yoshi absolutely adored you.

he wanted to sit with you at lunch time, tucked himself into your side during nap time and screamed your name the first time his quirk ever activated. as much as the darling boy looked like pro hero lemillion— his quirk was scarily similar to it as well.

yoshi wails the whole way to the hospital, the lack of air he received after slipping through the concrete in the school yard while scraping his knee, a little beyond the school nurse’s jurisdiction. you’d already gotten someone to cover your class, speeding to the nearest emergency room with hope that someone had alerted his father of the situation.

when mirio arrives, yoshi’s cheeks are luckily smeared with chocolate pudding cups instead of saltine tears and he’s surprisingly cheerful for a kid attached to a small IV drip— dressed in his own red-riot themed hospital gown, with you resting beside the bed in his ward.

“how ya feelin’ buddy?” lemillion whispers, tone on the edge of worry as he slips off the cape to his hero costume. “heard you got your quirk today.”

the bouncing baby boy with sunshine in his eyes shuffles onto his knees, wobbling over the edge of his bed before being snatched up by his dad, bright laughter bubbling on his lips when he nearly slips through the beefy man’s arms. “uh huh! an’ miss got me puddin’ cups! said i was real brave.”

“you were kid, but we gotta get this quirk under control! dad’s gonna have to teach ya!”

togata turns to you next, appreciation evident on his matured features— radiating around you warmly. “h-he really was brave,” you say sincerely, sitting up and a little more awake now the pro hero of your dreams is looking deep into your soul. “i was so worried! but yoshi behaved just like a pro.” you cringe a little at your choice of words, but the strapping blonde before you only takes your hand, lips brushing across the back of your knuckles in such a way that tingles run down your spine.

sapphire orbs flick upwards to make yours as you feel the heat of the sun simmering underneath your cheeks.

“thank you for looking out for him,” he says, voice cheerful and like honey in your ears. “i never got to properly introduce myself, even after all this time. i’m—“

“lemillion, i-i know.”

“mirio. togata, actually. and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” mirio cuts you off but the gentle smile never leaves his handsome face, and you’re sure you might pass out— embarrassed by his forwardness and flirting in front of his son, your student ( who’s too occupied by pudding cups and old cartoon reruns to actually care. )

there’s a knock to the door before it opens as the two of you share a moment. “mrs…togata and lemillion, sir! i have an update on your son’s vitals and quirk—“ suddenly, the doctor enters the room like a hurricane disrupting a quaint little farm.

and you jump back from the pro hero, bashful and shy. “o-oh! no. i’m not…we’re not!” gesturing between yourself and mirio, you shake your head— trying to dispel any wedded-couple vibes the pair of you might give off. “i’m just the teacher.”

the doctor raises a brow, looking up from his sheets on the young togata’s vitals and then hums. “my apologies then,” he turns to mirio. “your son seems to be doing extremely well— considering the circumstances and shock to his body he must’ve experienced….”

the doctor’s words fade into nothing but static as you attempt to calm your beating heart— sending reassuring smiles in yoshi’s direction from time to time while his father and the medical expert discuss the next steps to take regarding his quirk.

but you don’t think you’ll get your heart to calm down tonight… not with the way mirio still holds your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it fondly.

your third memorable encounter with mirio togata falls on the day of your school’s winter fundraiser.

lemillion had made himself a permanent fixture in your humble little life as a teacher—somehow acquiring your number from the school offices to constantly text you throughout the day. you knew that the pair of you were crossing the boundaries of professionalism, parent and teacher, but it couldn’t be helped. your heart fluttered at every message you exchanged, pictures of yoshi enjoying himself at school and some of mirio on patrol being sent back and forth.

and so, you were beyond excited when the winter fate rolled around, the children of your class volunteering with their parents to help out at different stalls— yoshi had been sure to sign up to help you with the bake sale, roping in his dad as well. the two stayed up all night prior, baking pro hero themed cupcakes decorated with hundreds and thousands and dollops of tubed colourful frosting to sell, though messy, it only warmed your heart having their company.

“remember yoshi, i don’t want you phasing through the tables to steal the merchandise from the bake sale!” you remind the younger togata sweetly as he helps you set up the various baked goods for display. he shakes his head in affirmation, golden curls bouncing over ocean eyes and freckled cheeks despite the crumbs residing on them— evidence of his crimes. “though, i’m sure your dad will boost our donations! since he’s a pro hero and all.” not to mention all the mothers and single teachers are ogling the hell out him right now, you’re sure that they’re plotting your murder too.

wiping yoshi’s mouth, you shift your attention to his father— rolling your eyes amusedly at the bags under his own from staying up late to bake. “i certainly must be givin’ you an ego boost helping out too, having a pro hero do all your dirty work.” lemillion teases, voice lowered and husky— though grateful when you pass him a hot coffee.

“oh please mister togata,” turning on your own flirty charm, you send a wink the pro hero’s way. “you adore being my little helper, i’m sure you’ve missed having a woman boss you about like you need.” the second half of your words are whispered, almost sultry as you cross more boundaries in your unique and blossoming relationship.

mirio flushes, and in the tight space of your bakesale booth— presses his broad and molten-warm chest against your back, coffee in one hand while the other sits in a calculated manor on your hip.

“oh, i do love a woman in charge, miss.” the way he utters your name, sounds like and is as sweet as melted chocolate— far too risqué for a school fundraiser, and it’s your turn to shy away from the heat of the moment.

you allow yourself to be distracted by the children, yoshi included — who must have snuck off using his quirk— playing dangerously close to a heavily decorated Christmas tree that threatens to topple over as they weave around beneath it, and rush off to stop them— leaving the darling lemillion to deal with a swarm of hungry mothers and staff, desperate for a slice of his pie and not the cake your booth has to offer. he can’t help but watch you longingly, the way you bend down to speak soft to the children, holding their chubby little hands while giving them a gentle reprimand.

you’re so good with kids, good with yoshi— and mirio would be lying if he didn’t say you were good with him too.

you didn’t judge him for having a child before marriage, when he was still making a name for himself— you were kind to him, sweet and oh so understanding.

and perhaps he’d come to like you for reasons more than just being good with his son.

though his fantasises of having you close, having you to himself and making you a part of his family are promptly cut short by the intrusion of his long time friend…izuku midoriya. when the number one, his competion from way back when, seems to appear from nowhere— joining you with the now squealing children, giving them a lesson ( no doubt ) on how to be a good hero. or some mushy crap like that.

you seem impressed, smitten at how good deku is with your students, ruffling their hair and holding them up high above the green ringlets that make everyone go crazy…including you. mirio doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up brighter than those on the Christmas tree as izuku plays with your kids, puts his hand on the small of your back and whispers way too damn close to your ear.

since when did that shrimp have moves? the blonde can’t help but wonder. why do you like him so much?

your smile is near blinding when you return back to the bake sale booth with izuku on your arm— rambling about how much it took to get him to come, how good for the school it will be… as if togata hadn’t been standing right there the entire time. it bothers mirio a little bit, just how bright you shine when this other man is around, despite the budding romance you both might be sharing.

so he really can’t help himself, jealousy boiling over, when he blurts out. “are you two dating? am i missing something, number one?” in a strained, faux happy voice.

“o-oh! god no!”

“w-what? mirio no! midoriya is my cousin.” you’re quick to dismiss the idea, shaking your head while the number one hero turns bright red. “i invited him along today because he’s obviously a hit amongst single parents— freckles like this are sure to bring in the big bucks.” you cheer, punching your relatives star spotted cheeks.

izuku is rendered embarrassed for the remainder of the fundraiser, mirio absolutely mortified and you extremely amused but the rest of the bake sale goes without a hitch until closing and clean up time. yoshi sleeps on a bench behind your booth ( ultimately crashing from a sugar high ) as your cousin serves the very last of your eager customers trying to tempt him with their cookies instead of buying the ones izuku‘s girlfriend makes for a living.

as though not to disturb his sleeping son, the elder blonde shoots you a quick text.

mister togata - 5:45PM : I definitely was not jealous earlier.

mister togata - 5:46PM : So pls disregard me making a fool out of myself in front of your cousin.

you stifle a breathless chuckle like music to mirio’s ears, before looking back to see if yoshi is still resting peacefully and shoot another text in response.

yoshi’s pretty teacher lady - 5:49PM : oh i dunno, don’t think i can forget you mistaking my cousin for my boyfriend.

yoshi’s pretty teacher lady - 5:49PM : but maybe i can make an exception for you.

that familiar crack of heat flitters in the air when you both look up from your phones and catch one another’s gaze— suddenly aware of how small the space in booth is, how close you both are…how if you stood on your tiptoes you might be able to…

to kiss him.

to kiss one another.

but the moment is soon lost, wanting energy dissipating within the air as yoshi stirs to mumble tiredly. “don’ get too close to daddy miss!” the baby boy utters your name once, rubbing his eyes. “he’s got cooties.”

it’s only then that you truly realise how close you to the man…to this pro hero whose son is someone that you teach. it’s wrong, unprofessional… and losing your career isn’t worth kissing togata, no matter how much you want it.

so you back away— treating mirio togata as if he really does have cooties, putting up a wall between you both.

the fourth time you cross paths with mirio togata, you’re wet.

and not because of him.

the rain from an unexpected storm after work soaks you to the bone as you desperately call out to deku from your shared front porch— pleading and begging with the gods for him to be home since you’d forgotten your house keys back at your office on campus.

neither of you had realised it at the time, but when you’d first met mirio on your move-in date— you’d made arrangements to bunk with your cousin, izuku, in the same gated community that mirio lived in. the one where he just so happened to be neighbours with the top hero too.

the sunshine-like pro hero had spotted you shivering like a purse dog outside while home with a sickly little yoshi and despite the frosty awkwardness that built up between you both after the bake-sale, mirio knew it would be cruel of him to just leave you outside like that. “come inside,” he frowns, as if to scold you the same way you’d do with your students. “you’ll catch a cold like this if you don’t. and i’m not taking no for an answer, deku is on patrol, won’t be home until late.”

you look defeated, like a kicked puppy as you trudge into the togata household, clothes heavy with water. “i’m sorry,” you pout, as cute as ever— stealing mirio’s heart right from where it beats in his chest.

“don’t be, head upstairs and take the first right into my room. you can grab a change of clothes and stay here until your cousin comes home. i’ll fix you something to eat.”

it has the man’s stomach in knots how easily you follow his command, how beautiful you look with raindrops clinging to your skin. you’re even more so when you come back down dressed in an old sir night-eye shirt of his, heading over to join a pleased yoshi on the couch who can’t stop talking about how how he hated missing school and being sick and how glad he is that you came to visit.

yoshi trusts you so much, and that’s more than enough to drive mirio insane…but seeing you in his shirt too? it’s icing on the cake.

the rest of the evening is spent with you making funny shaped homemade pizzas with the younger togata and picking a book for him while his father and lemillion draws him a bubble bath. after washing up, you read yoshi the story until his eyes droop… and you can’t help but be a little jealous of how long his golden lashes are as they brush the freckles on his chubby cheeks. mirio spends that time avoiding eye contact, staring at your bottom when it peeks out from under his shirt and thinking of you in the most unholy ways.

when the time comes, you tuck the darling yoshi into his dinosaur and suneater themed sheets alongside his father before letting the elder togata guide you to the guest bedroom just one floor up and two doors down from his own. “sleep tight,” you murmur to the man, just a breath’s width apart in the doorway. “i-i’ll head back to midoriya’s in the morning. s-so thank you for tonight…”

he wants to say thank you back, for spending time with his son and teaching him so well, but lemillion’s words are lost on the way you look up at him with such bright doe eyes and a sleepy sweet smile. you chuckle breathlessly and slip away into the room, leaving mirio a flustered statue in place.

neither of your nights end there, however.

crossing the lines of professionalism once more, surrounded by all of his scents— hazelnuts and burning wood…you’re overcome with desire, there’s a familiar twitch between your thighs and a throb at your clit that you have to soothe. every neuron in your brain screams at you to stop, though your fingers circle your nub from over the crotch of your panties and thoughts of mirio above you, inside of of you and all over you ebb at your moral judgement.

it’s wrong, to moan mirio’s name into his sheets that smell like him…for you cunt to drool selfishly through your night clothes against the warm blanket he’d provided you with. the blonde hears you through the paper thin walls, cock swelling more and more with every mewl you let out. ones that are promised to him and him alone.

mirio chokes on groans, fists his cock and spreads his precum all over his expensive bed linen, humping his duvet as he imagines your supple, heated flesh beneath him. you’re like the sun, pulling him into your orbit and incinerating him from the inside out. he calls your name like it’s a prayer, half hoping you can hear his wanton for you echo across the hall, too busy jacking off to burst into your room and pump you full. make you a mother to his second and third child.

it’s far from appropriate, the pair of you getting off to one another in the middle of the night like this— but neither of you can think to stop, minds clouded by lust and orgasms that breach the horizon of the early morning… the tastes of each other’s names like sins on your tongues.

the filth and final time you encounter mirio togata like this, you’re like a lamb being sent to the slaughter.

pretty prey walking into the lion’s den.

you learn from yoshi during pick-up time that his father had fallen sick with the winter’s cold…explaining why you hadn’t seen him much between the special encounters after your night of sin. suneater— or mister amajiki, a close friend of the togatas, picks up yoshi under the guise of a play date while mirio recovers from a particularly serious cold and flu he caught on patrol.

“you should go see daddy!” yoshi babbles before bounding down to his uncle’s car. “he calls out for you a lot!” the cluelessness yet enthusiasm of a child will never cease to amaze you, and you have to control your stutter when hesitantly agreeing with your student. you know why mirio calls your name so much, that night hadn’t been the only time you’d gotten off to one another, nor would it be the last. you’d even walked in on the pro hero fisting his cock with your name wet on his tongue but neither of you had said a word at the time.

once all of your students have been sent off with their parents and carers, you make sure to swing by the closest mart to make somewhat of a care package for mister togata. some cough drops, cold medicine, heating pads for his hands and several tins of soup— all with the hope of helping him feel better.

you’re not nearly prepared for the sight you’re given when knocking on mirio’s door later on.

he says your name as soon as he opens up, hoarse and almost sultry,, and the man is half naked too— golden skin radiating with heat, coruscating with sweat and a slight flush from the fever. “fuck, pretty girl. you’ve come t’take care of me, hm?” mirio slurs in a slow and sexy way, swaying on his feet and collapsing onto you right on the front porch. “wha’d’are ya doin’ here gorgeous?”

embarrassment floods your veins, tangling with the heat burning from mirio against you. “l-lets get you inside, you’re sick.”

“lovesick, baby, been missin’ you all week.”

his words shouldn’t send your brain into a flurry as you push the pro hero back into his house but they do. you struggle with avoiding how he slobbers all over you like a horny dog, how he smirks cockily while you push him to sit against the livingroom couch. “we need to bring down this fever,” dismissing the blonde, you rush to his kitchen for a tall glass of water and boil the kettle to make him one of those medicated hot drinks. “you’ll be better soon, mister togata.”

blinking over at you with reddened lined eyes, lemillion keeps a predatory gaze on you despite how ill he is. “using formalities with me, sunshine?” he coos in response, distracted when you return by attempting to tug off more of his clothes…or his pants, rather. “that’s not what you were calling me the other night when you phoned to let me watch you shove your tiny fingers into that tight…pretty pussy…moaning my name—“

“mirio!”

“just like that gorgeous… fuck, say it again, baby.” you know that the man is delirious with his flu, but the low voice he drops deep, dripping with honey, filling you with that familiar lust you got off on whenever the two of you met up in secret. “‘mirio, m-mirio…oh fuck! mirio!’ you get so cute when you whine for me like that.” he’s playing you for a fool and you’re falling for it— like an easy game of cat and mouse, mirio coyly flirting with you as you desperately try to keep his sweatpants on. bundling him up in blankets and filling him up with cold water to calm down his fever.

you’re about to check his temperature again while pressing the back of your hand to his forehead when large and calloused hands grip the fat at your hips— tugging you straight into mirio’s lap like a lion dragging around its prey before the kill. “d-doesn’t look like you’re hot anymore…” you squeak, quivering in his grip and feeling every ripple of his thighs and abs beneath your fingertips as you steady yourself against him.

“fever went down ages ago baby,” he grins, all toothy and pearly white— pinching your waist, slender fingers cupping the curve of your ass to pull you back and forth over the growing bulge in his lap. “you’re just so fucking cute, dotin’ all over me, sunshine.” biting your lip, you fall apart easily— bearing witness to tousled golden locks and a smirk that sets a fire alight in your lower belly. “you wanna kiss me, don’t you?”

then you’re nodding your head, any logical thought cleared from your mind ( even the ones about not spreading germs that you usually tell to your students )— you want to know what the sun tastes like, if it’s as warm or as hot as science makes it seem. a heavy hand cups your throat without squeezing and brings you down for a passionate lip lock, your own finding the thick tresses of light and fiery hair as mirio’s tongue glides over the seam of your lips after pressing against yours. you moan at the sweet taste of honey and ginger on his lips, whimper in the form of begging for the man to let you in and consume you whole until you’re nothing but stardust.

neither of you part, lungs burning for oxygen like you’re lost in space with no air to breathe— grinding and kissing like your lives depend on it. everything is sloppy, spit-slicked and full of the admissions of feelings— you like each other. need each other like the earth needs its light and the sun needs something to shine down on. mirio sucks on your bottom lip, takes it between his teeth and slowly pulls away from you, but you follow him, chasing your own personal ecstasy.

“so needy, sunshine,” mirio coos, a certain deep rasp caught in the ridges of his throat. “so pretty like this too, so cute, all small in my lap. with my hands around your darlin’ little neck.” cobalt eyes, as luminous as the skies on a clear day flicker up to meet yours, swimming with tears of desperation— a craving for more of mirio togata carved into each fleck, drowning your dilated pupils. “do you want me to fuck you?”

you nod again, the world around you spinning and your thoughts intoxicated with the golden boy hero beneath your thighs that tremble with each compliment he feeds to you. “yes— god, please.”

“please, what?” togata asks you, voice stern as he works on pulling you out of the layers of your clothes— blouse and bra gone before you can even register it.

pouting, you whisper a needy. “m-mirio?”

shaking his head as if chastising a child, the man tuts and mocks your pout all while working on plucking off your skirt next, leaving you in nothing but your innocent cotton panties. “that’s daddy when i’m with you,” he tells you like it’s a promise with his fingers once again fumbling between your bodies and underwear to toy with the pearl between your puffy pussy lips, dragging the newfound wetness over your clit. clear strings of your arousal seep through your panties and leave a dark spot on his sweats. “daddy, when i have you like this, you got that?”

“y-yes,” you mewl eagerly, shifting on your knees so you’re better spread over mirio’s lap— giving him better access to prep your sweet hole as it flutters around his thick digits, earning a breathless chuckle from his wet lips. “yes, daddy.”

“good fucking girl,” he says proudly, gaze fixated on between your pretty thighs— watching you quiver from the praise before mirio relents, easing two fingers past your soaked entrance and scissoring them immediately. stretching you wide to take his girthy cock. “oh fuck, my little sunshine’s so warm, so wet for me.” he groans, drawing his name against your silken walls, thumb painting wide sloppy circles into your clit.

your face feels hot with tears, something that mirio enjoys seeing, especially when they clump in your eyelashes. “please…i want more,” i want you. is what you mean, nails lightly cutting into mirio’s shirtless shoulders as you ride the digits pumping in and out of your slick cunt, squeezing tight around them as you gush into the seat of his palm. “d-daddy!”

“shhh, i know little sunshine, daddy knows,” he hums softly after pressing down on your g-spot, carefully pulling his fingers out of you to push you onto your back on the couch. “be good f’me and don’t cum yet, kay? want you to hold onto that until i’ve got you on my cock. yeah?” mirio’s words are tender, though domineering, while he shifts to hover over you, hot tongue burning against your skin as he licks a trail from the hem of your panties, between your arching back, bare breasts and budding nipples until he meets your lips— drooling into your eager open mouth as you pant out for more. “so fucking perfect, sunshine.”

cool air rushes over your pulsating, glistening pussy— mirio having pulled your underwear aside, only causing you to cry out from the lack of stimulation. “don’t cry, pretty baby,” you manage to hear him over the blood pulsing through your ears, body tingling all over at the feeling of mirio’s girthy cock pressing against your inner thigh through layers of fabric. “‘m gonna fuck you now, don’t worry. daddy’s gotcha.”

he hikes a thigh of yours up over his hip, shoving down his boxers and sweats just enough to let his mushroomed and seedy cockhead press into the heat of your pussy. you dig your nails into mirio’s sweaty scalp, mouth hanging open and hips rising from the sticky leather of the couch covered in your juices. the man above you is the centre of your universe, you think. though your relationship may be somewhat taboo, you feel the care and affection he has for you in every single one of his touches. calloused hands moulding your body into the perfect shape to fuck, to make love to and makes you feel like jello as his fat, veiny dick pushes deeper into you— big for the slickness of your pussy to resist him.

“relax for daddy, sweetheart, let me in…c’mon, fuck. open up f’me,” mirio simpers, rolling his hips slow and sensual until your walls tremble around him— welcoming his dick home, bathing him in all of your arousal. he throbs inside you, finally sheathed in all your warmth as if you’re the core of his earth. “that’s it…my good girl, oh fuck. fuck, you feel better than i ever imagined. so fucking tight baby, gonna let daddy fuck you right, huh?” you can tell that he’s losing himself within you, now forcing your knees into your shoulders to put you into a mating press and wasting no more time setting a rough, feverish pace to his hips and pounding into your sweet cunt.

you cry and squeal and claw at togata, the world spinning on its axis around you while the blonde fucks you into a stupor— his tip smearing copious amounts of thick precum along your velveteen insides until there’s a white ring of your mixed arousals cuffed around the base of his blue veined cock. “d-daddy…s’good. so fuckin’ good,” your own juices splash up against the pro hero’s stomach and and every time his hips slam down against your own— wet skin slapping on skin in a rhythmic and sensual tune.

galaxies twinkle in your pretty eyes, your teeth sinking into mirio’s golden and broad shoulders while you scratch at his back. the sound of sex clinging to the air in the room is primal, animalistic as lemillion cups your throat again— tilting your head so that he can mark his claim into your sweat tainted flesh. the fabric of your panties pushed to the side rubs deliciously at his soaked, creamy shaft and the waistband of his pants rub your clit raw, the effect the clothing has on you both leading you to believe that neither of you will last much longer like this.

“‘m makin’ you see fuckin’ stars, aren’t i sunshine?” he asks you, each word punctuated by a harsh thrust—cum-loaded balls tapping against your ass, the sound mixing with your squeals to make a lustful song. “want this pretty pussy to cum for me. can you do that, my good girl?” mirio moans heartily above the couch squeaking beneath your bodies that dance together in rough and passionate movements.

he smiles again, nice and bright when you nod and start to circle your hips upwards as best as you can into his. “‘m close, can cum for daddy. wanna cum for daddy. please don’t stop, please—!”

“alright baby, i gotcha…look at you. so cute and needy for your daddy. for me.” mirio gunts back into your mouth, falling apart at the sight of your lovesick and teary face, crumbling at the way your cunt clamps down on him— refusing to let him pull out in an attempt to milk him for all his worth. you’re tight around him, practically choking mirio’s cock as his fat milky tip bullies your insides and harshly bares down on your g-spot— sending you headfirst into your orgasm. “that’s it…fuck look at that, pretty lil pussy cummin’ around daddy’s fat cock. s-shit.”

soft praises are expelled into the buzzing air between you both, with you gasping for breath and squirting on the blonde’s dick so hard that he’s forced out of your pulsing walls before he cums in hot waves over your raw mound— painting your ravaged pussy lips white with his hot and thick seed.

you’re both left panting and sticky messes on the couch as you come down from your highs— your mind running a mile a minute when you realise what’s just happened, what you’ve done with the father of your student. no less.

“m-mister togata, i-i’m—“ you start to apologise, coming too, heart rate spiking in your chest.

but mirio is quick to stop you, forehead and sweaty blonde locks pressed to your own with a dreamy and satisfied look on your face. “before you say anything more. i want you to know that this wasn’t just a hook up for me. nor were the times before that.” he explains,blinking up at you with unadulterated affection, perhaps even love. “i like you, a-and i like how you look out for my son. and i know our relationship has been far from appropriate, i’d like to take you out for a proper date— do things right instead of sleeping with you to work up my courage to ask you out.”

“mirio…” you smile, brushing back his hair. “i’d love that, a lot actually.”

“yeah?” he asks, timid for a man who just fucked you to the high heavens and back before linking your fingers. “say you mean it, or you’ll be breakin’ both mine and yoshi's hearts.”

“yeah…” you murmur through a laugh, leaning up for a sweet kiss to seal the deal.

the fifth time you encounter mirio togata, you walk into the lions den, but come out with him hand in hand— your hearts belonging to one another.

#mirio x reader #mirio smut #mirio togata smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader #mirio imagines #mirio fluff #mirio x you #bnha imagines #mirio togata x you #mha smut #mha x reader #mha imagines #mirio togata fluff #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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warcholica · 4 months

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i really like the how the olgimskys designs in the first pathologic play around with material. obviously – mainly with fur.

big vlad has his huge fur coat – it's very much in spirit of his hes bourgeoisie caricature like design. it's arguably not the best looking and i dont think that's intentional – his coat in patho 2 is clearly supposed to look very cozy and nice. i actually like how symmetrically the fur falls in the upper back of the original design. it's charming. overall the coat really emphasizes this very old school idea of wealth.

it reads to me clearly as fashion, not as an uniform – alexanders outfit is very elaborate as well, but it does read very, well, governorish. vlads quite extravagant compared to the other rulers.

and that design philosophy is not really typical for pathologic, i don't really think it is – grief does fall into it a bit, but that's all. it makes vlad stand out in some really cool ways, as he has an unique silhuette. it's kind of insane how well theyre able deal with a character that has to overpass the barriers of their standard design. everyone knows that his face in p2 is like. insanely well made. but did you maybe notice how good his voice acting in the original pathologic is? ridicoulously good compared to like. anna. it really makes me wish they decided on more variety regarding other characters. oh well.

let's talk p1 kapella because shes obviously a showstopper. besides her obvious cuteness, i like how much it focuses on jeans as a material. it is, i think, a symbol of wealth in her case. i am polish and for me there was always this idea floating around than during the PRL period jeans was considered to be a luxury good.

(here it is represented in ryszard zamorski's sculpture "playboy"-- a pop art image of a smiling man covered in jeans from head to toe. fun. hip. well-off)

and so she is draped in jeans, just like her father is draped in fur – her wealth manifests clearly as well.

its also worth noting, that she has fur details on her collar too. that plays into the visual identity of them as a family – she is his daughter, she is a successor. i love her biig satin bow. so cute. makes her look like a very pretty rich girl. old-school wealth with a modern-ish twist.

and i think you already know where i'm going with this. yeah... vlad jr does not have any fur element in his p1 outfit. i like to overinterpret that.

like in the context, i feel fur represents mainly wealth – but it's also worth noting that it's a material foreign to the setting. i really like the spindle touch quote from p2

and i think it works for fur in p1 as well, although, obviously, every textile material comes from outside town.

but whats fur outside of that? lets think fur as a symbol a cruelty that also connects man with nature. fur as a terribly sensual material.

and vlad doesnt wear it: what are the reasons for that?

1. hes working with dirt. it would get dirty

2. he doesnt really like looking wealthy – hes not like the other olgimkys! the unusual simplicity is, to me, kind of reminicent of what victor is wearing – and vlads a successor to victor. in utopian ending hes supposed to tame maria/nina a little with his normalguyness. when you choose to do an utopian ending as artemy, he notes that maria will be dangerously wild without a husband

3. i think he denies himself luxury. because of how his shed looks i think hes an utopist that separates himself from the reality of his feelings – and so he separates himself from such a sensual material. but thats reallly a material for another, much more headcanonish post in which i will incorporate fragments from czesław miłosz's biography. i will make that one when ill play p2.

and btw: its a strange model, right? but i like it, i actually really do. i like how obviously blonde he is -- it is a soft callback to victoria. hes similar to her. her son.

also, i dont think it was intentional, i like how big he is in game. it feels like there is too much room for his soul in this body and so it echoes. i have the same feelings about like. ross from friends so thats more like a throwaway point.

it does manage to make him very much like a bussiness man – and vlad sr in his bourgouise caricature swag is very bussinessmannish as well. so maybe in that way he takes after him too? just a bit.

this is all very surface level analysis, but i do think about it a lot. i think p1 managed to communicate what it wanted to do with those characters very clearly through visual language.

#pathologic classic hd #pathologic #vlad olgimsky jr #vlad olgimsky sr #kapella olgimskaya

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amarriageoftrueminds · 11 months

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something i love is how Steve Rogers canonically takes after his mother. both appearance wise and in terms of his ideals

too bad the mcu's powers that be didn't care to explore steve or bucky's backstories beyond catws, or else we could've gotten an actual appearance from Sarah, but that's ok future projects can fix this /copium

but anyways Steve is canonical Momma's Boy, I wish marvel would remember lol

now if only marvel could also remember that Bucky Barnes is a protector and steve's guardian angel with a shotgun (or i guess sniper rifle, during the war)

cuz if marvel did then they could be genius and retroactively give us flashbacks/scenes in the past that put Bucky back there with little Steve and show interactions between Bucky and Sarah and have Steve's mom thank him for looking out for her fighter of a son, and also retroactively include scenes of Bucky's family reacting to their kid choosing to pick up the disabled little bullied Irish kid and decide he must protect hehe

there's too much good shit there that sets up the true nature of Bucky and Steve's friendship, which i feel like marvel writers kinda forgot over the years and replaced it with caricature-ish flat understanding of both Bucky and Steve, so such scenes would be good to remind writers and the audience of why they've been caring about each other and give insight into their parents

Am I the only one who gets the vibe that, quite apart from wanting to unravel any plot-threads which undermine the specialness to Steve of the Token Female they bothered to put in the Cap movies... they don't want Steve to be a Mammy's Boy, cuz they see that as less acceptably manly and cool?

Like: Tony is allowed to obsess over what his dad thought of him, across multiple movies (and ditto what the Odinson boys thought of Odin's opinion of them) but mothers only matter if, and only while, they're being fridged?

Ditto with Bucky's mother too, now I think about it (at least his dad also gets zero mention or exposure). And it would be so sweet and easy to have flashbacks of kid Steve and Bucky -- it would even save them the hassle of having to pay for the adult stars, to film!

Also can you imagine kid-Bucky, already a worrier, asking Sarah what Steve's dad died of and finding out he died from having bad lungs and this just unlocking a whole new level of nightmares for him about Steve and his 'fuck you imma fight everyone in this dirty dank alleyway with bad air' attitude. 😩

I absolutely 100% headcanon Bucky and Sarah as having a whole unspoken language between them, as the only two people on earth who get Steve. I always imagined there would be a whole series of private memories -- moments of non-verbal communication between him and her -- which even Steve himself wasn't privy to.

#historically accurate stucky tag #toAyourQ #dat's me #hey nonny #stucky meta #kid steve and bucky #WE SHOULD'VE SEEN THEM #sarah especially we should've seen it's actually criminal we had screentime wasted on others over her #they really just blatantly did not give a shit about doing comics-Steve justice #he's not the guy they want they want Soldier Boy #remember folks: REBLOG 🔁 / DON'T JUST LIKE 🤍

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kerrste · 9 months

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Just finished Guards! Guards! - Aka the first book in everyone’s favourite discworld series, if you’re to beleive the polls. I can see why it would be.

The skeches here are a bit rough, I know. But they’re sketches!

In the bottom corner of the second image I experimented a bit with Carrot’s hair - Everyone always draws it cut short, but wouldnt it be longer like the dwarves’?The bottom right hairdo is inspired by Aragorn from Lotr.

I tried to draw their profiles more caricature-ish than I usually do, since discworld feels very exaggerated in general. That is why, for example, Carrot is built like a barge and Vetinari has a waistline that would make victorian ladies cry tears of jelousy. I have a hard time making characters ugly in general, but I feel like i accidentally made Sybil look like a godess? Then again, the book does say ”Aincient men would’ve worshipped her”, so I suppose it’s fitting.

Also, the dragon looks like a horse. Sorry all dragon-lovers out there, they are very hard to draw.

#my art #discworld #nobby nobbs #fred colon #sybil ramkin #sam vimes #carrot ironfoundersson #lord vetinari #guards! guards!#ankh morpork city watch #guards! guards! spoilers #what spoilers you say? well if you look at the tiny dot next to the dragon on the landscape #if you know you know #i hope to post more art here soon - it’ll probably be discworld aswell #gnu terry pratchett #art

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gartenofbanny · 9 months

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Hello! I am currently trying to make a document including all evidence of Viv's problematic behaviour, and since you're quite popular in the critical community, I wanted to ask your opinion on the structure of it. If I missed anything feel free to correct me!

Vivziepop is a horrible person

I-early signs

-Nazi sausage party ocs (inspred by doctor Mengele, following a nazi blog

-drawing Kesha and glorifying her illness

-Zoophobia (contains the Addison drawings, Mirage being depicted as goofy when she's a pedo, Sahara and Latika designs

-supporting blaire white and Shoe0nhead (her too since Shoe has recently been revealed as a neo nazi)

-transphobia (discord messages)

-drawing Mimzi as a caricature/stereotype of Jewish people

II-Spindlehorse & twitter

-Raphielle shipping valangel, saying their a proshipper and still working on SH

-Following multiple proshippers, including someone who used audios of REAL kids for his digital CP and someone who actively ships Rick/Morty

-allowing and encouraging the harrasment of people who critique her shows to the point they are forced to come out or receive rape threats

-Blaming A24 for the lack of competent advertisement on Hazbin Hotel and replacing the voice cast

-encouraging harassing Erin Frost and Kendraw for coming out with their experience with her

-Studio reviews revealing the nepotism and abuse in the SH studio

III- The shows

-finn/ cole was made cis when he was originally trans

-sally mae only regarded by the fandom as a trap or futa, sexualised in every piece of her merch with her dick being emphasized to the point the fandom fetishizes her

-alastor being made creole or mixed as an afterthought, when Viv had already used real life voodoo symbols, very clearly inspiring alastor from Wendigos without any research, made him white as paper and depicted him as the 100th " asexual and aromantic person is an evil murderer!".

His asexuality and possible aromanticism is always ignored by the fandom in favor of shipping, and inclusive Vivziepop even said to do as they pleased with his sexuality for shipping.

-forced positivity, pushing the idea that even murderers, abusers and horrible people can change hazbin hotel

Depicting abuse (Crimson hitting Moxxie, the whole Valangel tag existing) and sexual assault (again woth Moxxie and angel) as funny jokes or sexy

-Noticing a pattern, Viv tends to promote M/M relationships a lot but depicts them as overtly sexual, predatory and toxic, and seems to have a problem with having "twink" characters abused sexually in a yaoi-ish way (Addison, Moxxie and Angel, Vox. Stolas/blitz too.)

-the only two people of color that are confirmed are Alastor, Velvette and Valentino. Velvette's color is very ashy and she is often infantilised (this might have more to do with her being a woman in Vivs eyes) she presents no POC features at all, neither does Valentino who is a stereotypical black man who is a pimp, abusive (sexually too) and has a short temper.

-using "it's hell " as an excuse to make horrible characters to glorify and depict as the true victim while doing nothing to become better. (Ex. Stolas is a rapist , Blitzo Sexually harrasses his co-workers and is very toxic, Alastor is a serial killer.) Depiction is not glorification, but Viv actively makes it seem like all of it is okay to do and has a show who has a very negative message that affects the viewers and fanbase into excusing disgusting shit.

-disrespecting religion by not accurately researching the demons she talks about

-Sexist writing in helluva and hazbin that favores males(Loona,Millie,Stella, Verosika)

-ableist language by Blitzo, refusal to acknowledge this and even joking about not being able to say a slur

-collaborates with Brandon Rogers,whose work is clearly sexist,racist,homophobic and ableist

-making fun of eating disorders (Moxxie)

-involving kesha in her show while she is trying to get justice for being abused and trying to recover, making the character she voices based on all the things she hated about herself

-included famous voice actors, pays thousands for them but actively underpaid and overworked her staff

-No trigger on an episode that contained Blitzo vomiting

-Barbie wire grooming a teenager is considered a joke (and the tweet doesn't count, we should be able to tell if the teen was actually older by his design or any line of dialogue, if those who don't have twitter won't know it means it's a problem)

-various incest jokes hinting at proshipping (Moxxie/Millie, and a rumor +dialogue cues hint at Andrealphus and Stella being in a relashionship)

-merch of almost all female characters being somewhat sexual

-depicting the Woman/Man as the only healthy relationship (Moxxie/Millie) while the queer couples are toxic (Chaz/Moxxie Blitzo/Stolas)

Holy shit that's a long read, I suggest you make that into a blog post or something. The only portion I can assume that you got correct is the third section. Most of the first two sections are spot on to me, but I am not sure if they're both completely correct because I'm not really aware of what Vivziepop did in the past, just what she has been doing since like last year. Sorry to disappoint, but it is pretty great from what I'm reading.

Modify it to what you think is best so that people will read from it and test read it yourself in case you got something wrong. I suggest you use Grammarly for grammar or spelling issues because even though English is my first language I still struggle with those

#helluva boss #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop #helluva critical #helluva boss critique #vivienne medrano #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism

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fierceawakening · 3 months

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You know, does anyone ever look at posts people make about "white women" and have aa really strong feeling that whatever they mean it's not you?

Like, the thing they're imagining seems to be

probably blond, likely not dark

not especially involved in communities based around her ethnicity

probably not Italian or Greek (there are likely others here but I'm Greek, so)

feminine, or

if not feminine, masculine-ish in a very particular way that involves one of three acceptable hairstyles and a lot of Signifiers of Straightness to balance it out

"I got this at a craft show" aesthetic, turned up to 11

financially stable

probably vaguely terfy

Which like. There are a few... celebrities isn't the word I'm looking for. Writers of columns? That fit this.

But most white women I actually know don't really.

I feel weird about posting this because I do not mean that I don't think white women benefit from white privilege, or that I don't think there's a kind of just under the radar sexist "protect white womanhood" that people are more okay with than they let on.

I just... don't think the oppressive "white woman" is a person. She's a caricature.

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littlemisstfc · 6 months

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How The Bayverse Failed Optimus Prime

Hello, hola, こんにちは。

Welp, it’s been eighty four years since I have written a Transformers essay for Tumblr, huh? I do deeply apologize for my months-long hiatus on this funky T app. I was busy being a gaslighting, gatekeeping girlboss in the wilds of the bird app and that funny video app I think the kids call Taki Taki. Huh. What an odd name for an app. 🧐

Wait, what am I talking about? Wait, I remember. Anyways…

Oh, sweet little Bayverse, my dear archnemesis. Everyone and their mothers have the universal opinion of all opinions: the Bayverse is fundamentally flawed. Even if you hold nostalgic opinions about this franchise, by all means more power to you, you cannot deny that it’s a film series that is basically an 12 year old edgelord’s wet dream. Loud, obnoxious, filled with every horrible stereotype of the human race imaginable (from women to people of color to people with common sense), and lacks an understanding of what made Transformers special. If this movie was a person, it would call me a slur. 😭 But that’s a discussion for another day, and I’ve already made a video about the misogyny of the Bayverse if you’re curious. Check that out in your spare time! 👍🏽

youtube

In a nutshell, the Bayverse movies are not good, and there’s no better representation of why the movies lack a basic understanding of the franchise it was adapted from than a character that is essentially a childhood icon for many people:

Optimus Prime.

Everyone and their mothers hold a universal opinion that is sadly present: this man is a maniac who basically says, “GIVE ME YOUR HEAD.” However, Imma about to say something that not only caused a flame war when I brought it up a while back on Twitter, but reflects how the portrayal of Optimus in the movies is flawed in insidious ways:

Optimus is the victim of bad character writing as well as the lack of understanding his core personality. Thus, as a result, this resulted in the, “Bayverse Optimus is a psycho phenomenon” that demonized his visible mental health issues. He was a traumatized individual affected by the tragedies he had to endure throughout his entire life, and the movies did not do his hidden character arc justice. Come along with me on this journey of understanding Bayverse Optimus as a person, not as a demonic caricature that is unfortunately common in the fandom.

3, 2, 1, PINGU.

A Tale of a Bot: The Long Road to A Broken Mind

Optimus’ current personality and outlook on life in general is a result of having a life filled with betrayals and tragedy. Having been orphaned at a young age after the Fallen has killed off the lineage of the Primes, he was taken in by Sentinel Prime as a pupil. Having worked with other Autobots in revitalizing Cybertron into a hospitable world, he was selected by Sentinel to lead the Autobots. At the same time, his true heritage was revealed. However, feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of his prestigious family history, Optimus turned down Sentinel’s offer. He accepted the responsibility of co-leading Cybertron with his childhood ish friend Megatron, as he is the fair to the latter’s firmness. However, throughout their rule, they clashed multiple times over multiple scenarios such as the arrival of enemy invaders and the discovery of a relic. This was mostly fueled by Megatron’s own resentment and jealousy towards his co leader due to Optimus’ Prime heritage. The boiling point that exploded into war was Megatron and his followers ambushing Prime and his companions while on a trip to Metrotitan. Thus, along with the apparent death of Sentinel through the latter’s ship being shot by Starscream, this drives Optimus in adopting a rage induced mindset towards Megatron. The one he grew up, the one he confided in, the one that he adored so much, the one who has betrayed his trust all for a vain and arrogant quest for the ultimate power. It lays the framework for Optimus’ jaded, yet hopeful outlook on life, something that the movies at least did a job in conveying. It’s also helped by Peter Cullen giving it his all as usual in conveying his sadness buried underneath his stoic demeanor. Thus, along with a few more shenanigans in the comics, this is where the first two movies started.

I appreciate the comics existing, because they took the time to actually develop Optimus’ personality and his mental state as seen in the film series. We see him as a hopeful, naive bot who hopes that one day, Megatron can change his mind and Cybertron will be alive once again. Unfortunately…the one predictable aspect of life is its unpredictability, and god dammit…it reared its ugly head as all hell breaks loose after a certain old bot returned in Dark of The Moon. Dark of The Moon is the true outlier among a sea of mediocrity and awfulness, for the best element it got right: how Sentinel’s betrayal deeply affected Optimus in the long run. This is someone who raised him when he had nothing, someone he deeply loves as a father, someone he trusted whole heartedly. And how does Sentinel repays Optimus’ loyalty and adoration for him in DOTM? Tricking him and the others into leading him to the Allspark, since UH OH he is a Decepticon spy all along, killed the Hit Me With Everything You Got robot, helping Megatron invade Chicago, and planting Seeds in order to revive Cybertron by killing Earth. Optimus saw his mentor going down a path similar to Megatron, which essentially broke his idealistic viewpoint into devastating shards that could never be put together again. I find his confrontation with Sentinel after defeating him in battle very compelling, because you could feel the heartbreak, the anger, and…the disappointment that his mentor is not the the man that he loved as a father. It was Sentinel’s choice to go to the Dark Side, it was Sentinel’s bed to lie on,

Sure, the day was eventually saved in the end. However, everything that Optimus knew and all the people he loved is gone officially. He got his main band of amigos, that’s good. However…he is basically alone in dealing with his thoughts. The universe is a cruel mistress, and it keeps putting our Flamin Hot Cheetos boyo through the ringer.

We get to Age of Extinction, years after the Battle of Chicago. Now on the run thanks to the American government being the American government, he has no one. His friends are also in hiding, Autobots are fugitives in the planet they sought refuge in, and humans are willing to turn him into the authorities. This drives his mental state into something even worse as it is, as years of trauma and stress has finally caught up to him. Like, dude legit needs some weed to soothe his nerves and it is HAUNTING. Reduced to a broken, traumatized man in the safety of a barn, he is left with major trust issues. However, one day, a kind human by the name of Cade Yeagar did the unthinkable: he didn’t turn in Optimus to the authorities. Instead, he chose to repair our Flamin Hot King out of the kindness of his heart once he realizes that Optimus is no ordinary car. Even with the pressures of his family’s financial situation, Cade still chose to help Prime. This is the first step to breaking the first wall of Optimus’ mental state: his trust issues. For a movie infamous for being one of the worst movies in Transformers history, it does a surprisingly excellent job in portraying Optimus’ and Cade’s relationship in a natural progression. They’re both bird of a feather; they’re both tired fathers raising a rebellious teenager while also trying to make it in this crazy ass world. Thus, with Cade still helping him even when his life is in danger multiple times, Optimsu learns to open up to other people for the first time in probably centuries. He reconnects with his teammates, he begins to regain his faith in humanity and the universe, and he opens his spark again to love. By the end of the movie, Cade became the person that Megatron and Sentinel had failed to be, someone who is actually similar to Optimus’ other close friend Elita One.

Soon, The Last Knight arrived and things got worse for him. Subjected to brutal torture at the hands of Quintessa, who tried to force him to love her as a mother, he reached the breaking point of his sanity. An empty shell of his former self, a representation of everything that he went through, the painful reminder how he felt about himself for so long…true, he was rescued by Cade and regained his grip on sanity in order to save the day. However, it means that he’ll have to carry the scars of the single most trsaumatic moment of his life so far… honestly, say what you want about The Last Knight. However, through this one hidden gem underneath a pile of mediocrity, lies a character that suffered for so long to find the love and happiness he desperately wanted, that suffered for the liberation of his people, that suffered because his lineage ensures that he couldn’t find happiness possibly for a long time…

But an Autobot has no tears, and therefore he suffers so much more.

So, riddle me this, dear TORB Nation: how does the movie portray a genuinely compelling character arc that reveals another side to Optimus Prime?

BLOWING UP SHIT AND BODIES BODIES BODIES ON THE MOTHERFUCKING FLOOR, AMERICA, FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The movies not only twisted such a character arc into simply nothing more than, “Optimus angy,” but it’s genuinely disgusting that his visible mental issues was thrown under the bus because heaven forbid, we have an emotionally complex protagonist. They don’t understand who Optimus Prime is. Optimus Prime is someone who pushes through his sorrows and chooses to remain a kind person in spite of said trauma. However, the movies twisted his character into another angry badass robot, never highlighting his kindness, It only highlighted his sadness. I cannot believe that Imma about make this comparison (mostly because one of these outcomes is arguably better than Bayverse in all ways), but fuck it. I need to say it:

EVEN MOTHERFUCKING TRANSFORMERS PRIME KNEW TO SHOWCASE THIS VULNERABLE SIDE OF OPTIMUS THAN THE BAYVERSE EVER DID.

Like, TFP Optimus is a pretty brick with no personality trait other than Badass Stoic Optimus that plagued the 2010s. Still, still, still, it made sure to highlight his vulnerability in a respectful and careful manner. Said respectful and caring manner is barely there except for hidden bits from time to time due to the lame ass, “Primes don’t party” logic and moments that personally grind my gears, but that’s a story for another day.

Anyways, my point is that Michael Bay would rather focus on style than substance when he’s not busy terrorizing women. Even if you’re an apologist for him, it resulted in the movies being broken for better or for worse. Mostly worst. Because of the movies being broken, it continues to do an even worse job in The Last Knight, as it focuses on the same stupid shit as usual and throws Optimus under the bus as usual. He isn’t given time to breathe, time to fully flesh out his personality and state of mind in a caring and graceful manner. Like…this honestly upsets me just as much as the disgusting elements of the Bayverse as a whole.

This Optimus Prime is someone who was me when I reached my breaking point in the lowest moments of my life. I understood where he was coming from, I understood his pain and anger because of all the heavy shit he went through. For a long time, he has a special place in my heart as I got older because he represents who I was in a time of my life where I was just as vulnerable and broken as him. So, don’t ya’ll (especially those on Twitter) ever fucking say he is a psycho because to me, that shows the ugly side of your personality. He was me, he was a character that came in a point in my life that helped me through difficulties in my life. He is a character that has the most bastardization of any character I adore in fiction, because of the insidious nature of the movies he was in for a decade.

Bayverse Optimus Prime is more than the “GIVE ME YOUR FACE” guy. He is a character with hidden LAYERS that is done dirty by the Bayverse movies. I will continue to repeat this statement: He is more than, “GIVE ME YOUR FACE.”

Conclusion: Why Are Y'all Booing Me? I have a third eye.

I have to put up with this “Bayverse Optimus is a psycho” bullshit for YEARS, I deserve to be a feral gremlin DAMMIT. After a long time of seeing one of my favorite iterations of Optimus Prime be reduced as a funny murder guy by the non Tumblr fandom, because of the Bayverse movies bastardizing his character, I have to put my foot down. If y’all can’t see my viewpoint, that’s fine. However, I’ll continue to be a passionate fan of this Optimus Prime and gatekeep him from the fans who demonize my boyo into nothing but a caricature. He is the big titty goddess in this household with so much more going for him. I’ll never stop to be his ace attorney for as long as I live, because he was someone who was me. Someone who opened the doors to introducing me to one of my favorite characters in all of fiction. He was the light in my darkest hour…

Anyways, good night Tri State Area. Pingu.

#transformers #bayverse #val talks #Youtube

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