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lauvra · 2 years

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30 August 2020 I want someone to tear me apart, I want to be in danger. Shred my skin from muscle tissue, off the bone. Rip me up and waste me, discard me. I wait for you while hoping for the mercy of my own embrace. I shake but the temperature is fine. This is what I have to look forward to. Absolute madness, the twisted love only I can provide myself. I am and was; alone. Some thing or many warmth's within me feel so far away. I don’t feel like the woman I was sure to become. Nurturing and loving, helping anyone was done with ease, a genuine drive for me. I don’t know when or if I’ll be a decent person or whether anyone will look at me through the lens of a loving gaze again. I’ve been questioned consistently to such an invasive degree that I am ruined. I want to run. There’s no retribution to be had for either of us. You don’t view me as someone who is good, now I don’t either. You deny it. I was never afraid of love before this. You ripped away my goodness, but didn’t believe it was in your hands. You took away my light by not believing in it. Tinkerbell was shackled to the faith of others, now I understand. 11:55pm 4 September 2020 'The right people hear you differently’ - I feel the truth of that statement in my bones. I just took a shower in the dark, let the warm water run over like a temporary blessing. We’ve both wrestled knives from one another, we only harm ourselves but leave deep cuts in each other. I walk away from this distorted, I’ve been so poorly understood. Every single day I set the intention for myself to do no harm to the other. Just don’t bring up anything that could begin an argument – or rather; don’t do anything to hurt this person, then surely they will not be hurt right? Every day the peace is short-lived. I always felt so shitty about myself growing up, embarrassed, less-than. Our furniture came from op shops, we had to steam clean the dog scent out of our new sofa but I remember being proud of it anyway. It wasn’t our rental houses or second-hand possessions, the shame was in the way my parents spoke to one another – or didn’t. The way they looked at each other – or didn’t. That is where the deficit in riches lay in my family home, that’s what made me poor. I don’t want to let material possessions define my worth, but I love this apartment we found together. The fireplace brought elegance and charm to the single-apartment, now it’s stained, chipped and cheapened. This cannot go on. These notebooks feel toxic, though I wish I’d written more consistently. I think if every negative word was noted and dated, moving on may be easier. But I wanted this to work, so I stayed quiet, forgave things, asked for forgiveness and glossed over all the worst times in our relationship. I miss my free-range mind. I wish I was more poetic, more ambiguous in my expression. That I could write some strange soulful poem or story about a bunch of random people, entwine my true feelings and thoughts inside and share my secrets with the world under the anonymity of a deceitful narrative device. I don’t care that you threw the coffee table against the wall. But you may as well have thrown me. 8:04pm 28 May 2021 Friday What would my ideal self be? I used to want to be kind. I admit I want an impressive vocabulary, to be interesting to talk to. I want wisdom. ‘A wise man once said nothing.’ I don’t want to be a slave to any unhealthy habit or to anyone. No music is really hitting at the moment. This is that lull period for me between loves that becomes unbearable historically. I don’t want to feel the things I felt with past partners / lovers again though. I’ve guarded myself and it’s appropriate for me to keep it up until my ego is back in check. Space to paint, draw and write To take photos / create collages To enhance my sketching skills and learn disciplined techniques To have and uphold healthy dietary parameters To resolve shadow work To learn healthy boundaries without isolating myself

26 July 2021 10:12am Chimeric 1. hoped for but illusory or impossible to achieve. "the notion of tolerance is a chimeric dream" I looked away in case it was you, I kept my head down just in case it wasn’t.

How many more words does a girl need to write to cover this most basic premise? I am tired of trying to reconfigure my toxic thoughts into holistic ones. My feelings aren’t the responsibility of anybody but me, this guy is a product of blah blah blah you make me want to die. The nerve of you to have been so careless with my love, I never commit to anyone, to anything. I’m still committed to you, but you aren’t even real. I never give those deepest of my affections over. I want to pave a new way toward the future with your blood and bones mixed into the asphalt. Surely nobody has wanted to harm me the way you did so easily. I am so much less whole of a human being than I was before you claimed to love me.

How the fuck am I supposed to move on?

I wonder the odds two people could overcome if they each really wanted to be together badly enough. I love to imagine it. I want to know because I want to create a mythical place where I can be with the one I love, even though it seems irreparable. I know you’re out there some place and you’re laughing, cleansed by relief and free. I wonder if I offered anything.

11:05pm 16 August 2021 Today the Government announced another extension on our lockdown and a 9pm curfew. Pussy Riot to challenge Putins rule. A 7-point-something category earthquake in Haiti. Taliban takes over Kabul. American government confirms aliens exist. If anything can happen, why can’t we?

19 August 2021 I couldn’t escape it, everything I did or didn’t do was about this whole other person. This other person who was almost entirely absent, only present as an abstraction. A complete obstruction. I judged myself through his eyes, always observing myself in a way I’d perceive his judgment. For months I tried to limit my interactions with people, by necessity. My paranoia chewed me up. Everybody was in on some sick joke I was the butt of. An inexplicable rage became me whenever I saw familiar faces on the street. Whether they were his friends or simply faces I’d seen on the same days I’d ever seen his. I couldn’t look at certain products on the grocery store shelf, he was contained even in familiar labels. Such was his reach.

Can I radically love this person without expectation and from a safe distance forever?

Every person you allow into your life grants you access to a wide other world, I can’t imagine dating someone who wouldn’t try to sever all my previous and potential connections thus severing my ties to the many worlds available. I’d rather stay alone. Who you keep around you will affect you at a core level regardless of how tough you think you are and regardless of how strong you really are. Even if you can intellectually separate who you are from the trauma within this person that breeds their suspicion of others, you will become overrun eventually by these thoughts so that they may as well be your own. A plant with toxic vines will grow within you that was sown by someone else’s doubt.

#me #word #selected entries #just #unjust

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gertritude-art · 3 years

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fandom interactions

#its me #doodle #actually this has luckily never happened to me BUT i see it all. the time.#a person's post disliking something will explode and the comments will be filled with 'let people enjoy things!!'#like... do you think the op cares.... they have every right to express a negative opinion as u have to be positive #and like i get it... i also get upset when people dislike things i like... but i dont enage withem? i complain on my blog or to my friends?#anyway #and well. never happened in a fandom sense #ive had people clowing on other popular posts of mine...

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finiteuniverse13 · 3 years

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home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

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theonceoverthinker · 3 years

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I wish I could be happy, but I’m not

(I made a thread of this on Twitter this morning, but I’m going to elaborate on it here because as you’ll see in a different sense on this post, character limits are BS)

So I'm not gonna lie, I think the line about Clover that many in my neck of the fandom are getting excited over isn't the loving acknowledgment of how Qrow felt about Clover that many seem to think it is.

Follow me on this one:

Is it good that Clover was finally explicitly brought up? Yes.

Did they do it in a terrible way? YUP, and I'll explain how in just a moment.

Am I surprised? Less than I ever wanted to be.

Actually, before I begin, because I KNOW people are gonna come after me for this post one way or another, I just want to ask those people if they think I LIKE being this negative? Do they think I LIKE being so cynical towards a show that I used to have so much fun with, a show that I was starting to trust? Don’t you think I want to be excited about Volume 8 with everyone else, and that prior to Volume 7, I wasn’t having the time of my life thinking about and enthusiastically waiting for the new episodes.

No, believe me, I’d be thrilled to enjoy this new volume with everyone else, but after the waking nightmare that was 7X12 (An episode that keeps getting worse and worse the more you look at it, as if an evil version of a Where’s Waldo artbook), CRWBY made it pretty apparent to not trust them as far as I can throw them, to guard my heart, and to temper any positive expectations I have for this show because they can and will likely let me down.

Full disclosure: I’m not watching the volume itself in the traditional sense: I’m having the context of the scenes explained to me by a wonderful friend, and seeing and reading the dialogue and facial expressions of the scenes through gifs, pictures, and the like on various Twitter and Tumblr blogs. That having been said, I take confidence that I am getting an accurate and complete understanding of the Qrow scenes.

Okay, let’s go...under the cut because this got LONG!

The line that starts with "The thing that really stings..." is the line in question, just in case there was any doubt since Qrow speaks a fair bit in this episode (Yes, I’ve read through the full line, but this post is already gonna be long enough without transcribing the whole thing, here it is if you haven’t checked it out yet). It comes up right after Qrow talks about Clover's death.

“The thing that really stings” is a crucial opening line. It implies that on a list of important matters pertaining to the given topic being touched upon, what he’s about to state is the most important of them.

And what does he go on to talk about after that opener?

Semblances. Just semblances, or rather, just his semblance.

Qrow talks about how he was finally entertaining the notion that there was somebody he could be around without having to worry about his semblance complicating things, but that he now believes that possibility was nothing but a childish dream.

This line (which I HOPE is just accidentally clunky because I DO want the Staff Theory to be true so we can start to recover from all this BS in a way that lets me keep enjoying this series) is a lot more harmful to the Fair Game relationship than anyone in the Clover and Fair Game fandom seems to think it is. I genuinely don't want to rain on anyone's parade because I know a large part of my fandom is pretty excited about it, but I can't leave this alone.

I'll be frank: This line implies that Clover's death on it's own (The act of the character of Clover dying, his entire being, personality and all) isn't as important to Qrow as what that death symbolizes. All it does is just talk about how Clover meant he could be around someone and not have his semblance mess things up.

It doesn't discuss the bond they formed over their time in Atlas together. It doesn't discuss how Clover was someone who was addressing his self-loathing and absence of a team or how they cared about each other. These things would imply that Clover meant something to him as a person outside of his semblance.

Now did the paragraph need to go into detail about or even discuss Clover and Qrow’s bond? Not necessarily, but with a line starting with "what really stings" that only on to talk about Clover as he relates to his semblance undercuts what made Clover's character so beloved in the first place.

Clover fans didn't fall in love with Clover because of his semblance. It was an interesting aspect of his character, sure, but it wasn’t the only one by a long shot.

We fell in love with Clover's unique personality, how he was cocky without the pompousness or bullying that tends to come with that cockiness, as well as his emotional softness and how it contrasted with our expectations at every turn, even extending to his support-suiting weapon.

We fell in love with how Clover, even dealing with people he was technically sort of opposed to like Robyn Hill, he made every effort to be diplomatic, careful towards her election, and sincere.

We fell in love with how Clover, unlike the rest of his team, was the notable exception to the rule of the Ace Ops not being friends with their teammates.

We fell in love with the many, many interesting visual aspects of his character design, both individually as well as how closely they mirrored Qrow’s.

We fell in love with the concern he had for Qrow, someone who Qrow was finally on an equal playing field with and could grow to trust as well as willingly and happily team up with.

We fell in love with Clover’s persistence in getting close to him and having Qrow come to a place where he could acknowledge his own worth.

So understand that this line says that the thing about Clover that left the biggest impression on Qrow (And by extension in terms of the show’s meta narrative, the audience) was not that character that we cared for because of who he was, but instead that Qrow cares more about how Clover benefitted him personally on a strictly utilitarian level than the actual connection he and Clover shared as people.

That sentiment does an incredible disservice to Clover's character. Despite what those who defend 7X12 felt, Clover was a character with dimension (And by no means was an Adam, just to stop that garbage comparison in its tracks before it comes up again). What that line does is callously strips away that dimension to make Clover almost something closer to a one-note manic pixie dream boy, and only for the purposes of his semblance, at that.

That’s not good writing, and it shouldn’t be as revered as it presently is (I know the episode’s only a few hours old at the time of writing this, but this seems to be the line’s perception by the Clover and Fair Game fandoms).

More than anything -- more than the possibility of Jailbirds becoming canon, or the lack of connecting Clover and the staff this volume -- this sentiment that Clover’s only worth came from his semblance said by Qrow himself (The character who spent a lot of time bonding with him) makes me worried about whether or not we will actually get a Clover revival.

Again, I don't want to ruin anyone's fun (Though I know I risk it just by making this and will probably be subject to all manner of online torment as a result because that’s just the way things go around here), but I think we Clover fans need to acknowledge the dangerous wording of this line and temper our expectations accordingly.

Today's Clovember theme is 'wish.' I'm not gonna stop wishing for Clover's return. I'm not gonna stop hoping for Clover's return, either.

However, I don't want another 7X12 to happen to myself or the various others in the fandom that I’ve grown to care about this past year again. I can’t ignore a bad sign when it’s staring me in the face, leaving such a foul taste in my mouth in the way that this is. Fair Game Buddies and Clover fans alike, please just be careful. I love you all.

#clover ebi #rwby spoilers #clover deserved better #fair game #qrow branwen

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solari-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Repercussions

🛑 WARNINGS: ANGST! Spoilers to Attack of the Clones, The Clone Wars. Near violence, anxiety, fear. 🛑

✨ requested by: @tsumethedrifter

✨ Pairing: Boba Fett with Jedi!Reader

✨ Summary: Boba's obsessions get him a hard slap to the face.

✨ Solari Says: You told me to go ham and I am doing just that. I hope this brings you great pain and suffering, friend. <3 It's brief, but it's probably best that way. No happy endings here.

✨ Prompt(s) -

Spinel - letting go of baggage [negative energy]

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE BOBA | MORE STAR WARS | > MASTERLIST < |

You hadn't disclosed your true origins to Boba. He had never asked, it wasn't something that he cared to bring up.

Within reason, you began to learn the more time you spent with him.

His deep-seeded hatred for force-users started at a young age. Rooted from his father's occupation as a bounty hunter, secured once Mace Windu had decapitated Jango on Geonosis.

He was kind enough to give you that, the longer you hung around Tattooine. The more you saw him, the more you learned about his troubled history. You would only spill 75% of your truth, deciding to keep your force-sensitivities to yourself in fear of him thinking of you differently.

Being a ex-Padawan being made it much harder to find friends.

Boba was the only real security you felt, since the Empire sprung from the shadows of the Senate. You could remember the way the shift felt, when Palpatine pleaded his innocence after forcing the clones to slaughter your Master.

The grief you could feel, as their life began to dim one by one.

It almost turned your stomach into knots thinking about it.

But nothing like what you were feeling now, Boba having his wrist rocket aimed up at you.

Your hands were up, your fingers trembling to match your wavered breathing. Your eyes couldn't produce tears as they bore into the black visor of his Beskar helmet. Your reflection stared right back at you, however it didn't come close to the anger you could feel inside of Boba Fett.

You were awfully close to believing he would kill you.

However, if he was meant to, he would have done it already. You had your bond to thank for that, buying you a few seconds to plead your innocence to the bounty hunter.

"Boba, please-"

"Don't attempt to buy yourself more time," he demanded from you. "Every breath you take is a favor from me."

Your expression sank a little more. "Then why haven't you done it?" you ask, your voice surprisingly calm for the anguish you felt inside. Maybe it was the several confrontations you had to handle, everything you had to witness in the Order. Everything you had to endure to get where you were.

"Because I just want to know why you decided to betray me."

You could feel the sting in your chest, and as much as you wanted to lower your arms and reach out to him, you decided against it.

"I couldn't cause you more pain," you answered simply, your tone growing a little more soft at the notion. "After everything that you told me, Boba... How do you think I could even bring it up?"

"At least then I would have the right mind to do this sooner," he practically growled, his arm bracing firm so that it wouldn't waver when he decided to light the room up.

When he did, you visibly grimaced in your place. "Don't..."

You could feel a couple of tears beginning to pool up, your hands shaking just a little more. You had cared so much, and made it known to him, but it couldn't amount to the distaste he had nurtured.

You expected him to fire.

However, the worrisome silence was beginning to convince you otherwise.

Although, when he began lowering his arm, you almost wished you took a direct hit.

"Leave. Don't come back," was all he said, and as much as you wanted to linger against his words, you decided it was best not to.

He was a man who's mind was not easily swayed.

So you brush past him, keeping your eyes away as you listened to the door hiss open.

Star Wars Tag List: - General Tag List: @sazafraz :|: @tsumethedrifter :|: @angelaiswriting

if you wish to be a part of any tag list, please comment below or message me!

#boba fett #angst #star wars #star wars angst #imagine #star wars imagine #solari writes things

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lexa-lives-in-us · 3 years

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This could be a flashback, but Dairon watching Beau get attached to Yasha and having some painful memories about what happened when they got too close to someone. Trying to stop Beau from looking for Yasha after she disappears for months/years...

Part 12 of ???

Read 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

Marion leaves after a few minutes to go help Veth and a now free Caduceus with lunch prep, and Dairon leans back on the couch, observing the scene in front of her.

As Jester, Fjord and Caleb run over a few details on the screens in front of them, Dairon watches as Yasha and Beau circle around each other, studying the other’s moves on the training mats, and finally stepping forward and backwards in a dance of studied movements.

Dairon watches them spar, hiding a smile when Beau sweeps Yasha’s legs and sends her ass to the floor; Yasha makes a grabby hand gesture towards her wife, and when Beau goes to help her up, Yasha drags her on the floor with her.

Beau shrieks, a shriek that becomes a howl of laughter when Yasha starts tickling her, and Dairon can’t help but think how fucking wrong they’d all been.

They remember clearly telling Beau how she couldn’t throw her life away for just a woman. They remember the way young Beauregard had scoffed, so very little scars on her face and her soul, and what she’d responded.

“You don’t know her, Dairon.” she’d said with a determination that Dairon knew would have brought her to her ruin. “Yasha is not and will never be just a woman. You can’t understand.”

But Dairon could. They could understand way too well, unfortunately.

It’s Dairon’s second week at basic training.

The CIA wants to screen them, massacre them with their inspections, figure out who has the tools to survive that life and who doesn’t, and Dairon is more than happy to prove all the negative expectations wrong.

Because it’s the 90s, and not only the CIA likes to divide their squadrons in male agents and female agents, but is also incredibly sexist in what they expect from one rather than the other.

Dairon announces clearly their gender identity right off the bat, but no one really cares.

There’s five girls left with them at the end of the second week, and two of them have already made clear that they don’t like them. Dairon hasn’t spent enough time with the other three to figure them out.

They’ve been too busy trying to avoid the nine male agents who are constantly trying to get them to snap.

It’s the end of the day, and it’s an easy sparring session. Dairon wants to get it done and over with, but of course one of the guys pushes them while they walk past them, and Dairon has had enough.

They don’t care that it’s not their turn: they flip around and grab the agent by the arm, yanking them towards the mat.

“Fucking do that again, I dare you.” they growl.

He starts laughing, just like the rest of the guys.

“Right. I’m not going to raise hands on a chick.”

There’s another laugh, but it comes from behind Dairon, and it’s an angry one.

“How dense do you have to be?! You know Dairon isn’t a chick. They’ve told you so already.”

Dairon whips their head around, and there she is, this gorgeous small woman, who couldn’t be taller than 5′2″, fists clenched at her sides and an angry expression on her round features. Her pale skin is reddened by the frustration she is showing.

Dairon is in love in an instant.

Slowly, they turn to look at the guy who’s pushed them.

He raises an eyebrow, throwing a punch at Dairon’s face, a strike they easily avoid.

“Come on!” one of the other guys yells, “Kick her ass!”

Dairon hears a commotion behind them, followed by a grunt and the sound of a body hitting the floor, and when they turn, successfully avoiding a second strike, they see the guy who’s talked rolling on the ground and holding his nose, and the girl grinning and shaking her hand from the numbness of the hit.

“Well, then.” Dairon says with a grin.

***

They end up in the infirmary together, while five of the guys get transported to the other wing to treat more serious injuries.

Dairon and the girl exchange a smile from above the nurses’ shoulders, and leave the place together.

***

It’s quick and it’s easy, the way they fall for each other. For the whole duration of training, they stick together, sneaking around at night to go see each other in their rooms.

The world sees them as two girls, and no one ever suspects anything.

After training, after screening, and after the first basic assignments, they manipulate their S.O.s and end up in the same division, in the same teams.

Life is easy.

Life is wonderful.

Life is smiling upon Dairon, and they end up moving in together pretty quickly. Agents and special ops by day, lovers by night.

Nothing couldn’t be more perfect. They cover each other’s backs on assignments, and Dairon is good. Dairon is fucking majestic in everything they do. Their partner isn’t as good, but she’s certainly one of the best CIA agents there is.

There are occasions where the assignments don’t line up, and Dairon is away for weeks at a time, and sometimes it’s the opposite. Dairon is okay with it. They like having a relationship, but they also enjoy the solitude of certain missions.

Everything is perfect.

***

Until it isn’t.

***

The CIA gets infiltrated. A number of files goes missing, and people start whispering, they start looking at each other wrong. People start dying.

Mysteriously, without leaving a single hint of what or who might be behind it.

It is clear that it’s an inside job. And not just one person, but several.

Dairon is one of the few who is entrusted with investigating.

It’s out of pure professionalism that they don’t mention it to their girlfriend.

For the better or for the worse, Dairon still wonders about it after years.

They try to believe there’s an explanation, when they see a figure moving in one of the security footages they recover from an agent’s house.

The figure is hooded, and masked, but Dairon could recognize that right hook anywhere.

Dairon’s heart starts freezing.

They set up traps, and every conversation with their girlfriends starts to become a masked interrogation. She doesn’t suspect a thing, because Dairon is just that good.

But piece by piece, word by word, Dairon’s heart freezes over, until one day, when their girlfriend’s gun is aimed at them and Dairon’s gun is aimed at her, they don’t feel anything.

“Come with me.” she says to them.

“Have you ever really loved me?” Dairon asks, with fractures all over their frozen, painfully broken heart.

“Oh, baby...” she says, and her tone doesn’t give anything away.

They both pull the trigger at the same time.

***

Dairon wakes up in the hospital with tubes coming out of their body, and one of their students looks up from where they’re sitting.

“They told me you went down on a mission.” they say, excitedly.

Dairon wants to groan. Why is this kid even here?!

“They took out a bullet from one of your lungs, you weren’t even supposed to survive. That’s so fucking cool.”

The kid gets up and stands next to the bed. Their face is out of focus, but it’s a clean, smiling face.

“Yeah. Fun.” Dairon croaks. “You know what happened to... To the other guy?”

The rookie shrugs.

“Down in a second. Your shot went right through his head, apparently. Everyone at the base is talking about how you probably dismantled whatever infiltration was going on at the Agency.”

Dairon nods, trying to hide the pain. The pain that isn’t at all physical and all emotional. The pain of a shattered, frozen heart.

Then, a thought hits them.

If they really have taken down the mole, and if the information is now of public knowledge, it means that whatever hospital they’re in, it’s probably on a cloaked location. So why the fuck is this kid-

“How did you find me?” Dairon demands.

The kid smiles, a shit eating grin that Dairon will learn to love and care for deeply.

“I have my ways. Can I stay?”

Dairon sighs. Against all odds, they nod.

“Sure. Just shut that mouth, Beauregard, and let me rest.”

Dairon blinks out of their reverie, when a loud scream comes once again from the mats. Somehow, Beauregard has managed to get herself into a pickle with Yasha, Jester and Veth, and the three of them are now all trying to pin her down as Jester shoves whipped cream all over her face.

Beauregard laughs, screams again, and kicks.

“DAIROOOOOOOOOON!” she howls. “HELLPPPPP!”

Dairon scoffs.

“Get fucked, Lionett.”

#undercover au #spy au #dairon #marion lavorre #beauyasha #flashback #my work #critical role

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luckystarchild · 3 years

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I was discussing this with my writing group earlier and decided that I wanted to collect some more opinions on this, so what're your thoughts on reviews that start out with "I don't really like oc-driven/centric stories, but―" or reviews worded to a similar effect/to the same tune? Personally I just don't find them to be as much of a compliment as the reviewer thinks it is, and wish people wouldn't preface a review with such info.

Soooooo there’s a lot to unpack here. I’ll do it in stages. Sorry if this is more than you wanted... I take asks too seriously sometimes. XD

Why do these types of reviews feel insulting?

The reason these kinds of reviews might not feel so great to the recipient is because they pair a compliment with a qualifier. And combining a compliment with a qualifier is how you structure a backhanded compliment.

Example of pairing a compliment with a qualifier, AKA a backhanded compliment: “Your old haircut was terrible, but your new one is much better.”

The “but” is key here. The compliment-giver said something nice about your appearance, yes, but now you’re walking around feeling badly about the last ten years of your old hairstyle, wondering if everyone who looked at you while you had that old haircut was calling you ugly behind your back.

When someone says, “Normally I hate stories like yours, BUT...” they’re using the structure of a backhanded compliment to pay you a (hopefully legit) compliment. They’re calling you an exception. You’re writing something that’s normally terrible, but you managed to squeak by with something acceptable (against all odds).

Even though you’re an exception, you’re left wondering if other people hate your story because of its sheer concept just like the reviewer initially did. And because they used the structure of a backhanded compliment to express their feelings, you’re left feeling like you did indeed receive a backhanded compliment, even if that wasn’t the reviewer’s intention.

After all, the recipient of a review can’t read a reviewer’s tone. All they can see is how the review was structured, and when the reviewer used the structure of a backhanded compliment, that’s what the recipient feels like they were given.

By pairing the positive with a negative, the reviewer has potentially cancelled out the good, leaving the recipient to focus on the bad. And since humans are hardwired for negative bias, it’s no wonder many people come away from a compliment + qualifier feeling like they’ve been insulted instead of complimented. They can’t help but focus on the bad more than the good, the insult more than the compliment.

What are reviewers REALLY trying to say?

Next we should discuss what reviewers are actually trying to say when they leave reviews of this kind. There are two possible scenarios to consider.

Possibility #1: They’re legitimately trying to pay you a compliment, but they aren’t thinking about how you’ll receive it or what they might be inadvertently implying by using the structure of a backhanded compliment. They actually, truly believe that you would want to know that you are an exception to their reading rules, and that this fact is a high honor. You’ve done something so well, they don’t even care what genre your story is! Your work is great, and the fact that they’d normally hate it due to its genre is AMAZING. You’ve changed their minds about a genre! You defied expectations! They were determined to not like your story, but it’s too good! You broke through their preconceived notions of what they like and MADE THEM LIKE SOMETHING with your writing skill. It’s not a feat all stories can achieve, so the reviewer thinks you should wear that as a badge of honor.

Possibility #2: They’re actually paying you a backhanded compliment and are hoping you’ll get upset. They want you to know they liked your work... but they secretly still think it’s silly, or stupid, or cringe. I won’t elaborate on this opinion because I think we’ll all fill in the blanks with our own worst fears, so there’s no need for me to do the heavy lifting when it comes to this kind of horror.

Which of these things do reviewers actually intend? I can’t say. This is obviously up to the receiver of a particular review to decide. I personally remind myself of Hanlon’s Razor whenever possible: “In misunderstandings, never assume malice where thoughtlessness will do.” It doesn’t necessarily amend the hurt I might feel, depending on how the review is worded and how severe the backhanded compliment structure is... but it does help me make peace with it.

What’s my personal opinion on the matter?

I’m of two minds.

Mind the First: It’s awesome to convert someone to a genre of story they previously hated. OC fics get a (frankly undeserved) bad rap, so I understand that an inevitable portion of readers will come into OC stories predisposed to disliking them. Knowing someone clicked on my story thinking they’d hate it, only to come to love it, is pretty great. It’s like you’ve given other OC fics a chance by being a good representative of that fanfic genre.

Mind the Second: In general, using the structure of a backhanded compliment to pay someone a genuine compliment is confusing and can be an example of poor communication if it’s not worded with enough clarity. Additionally, “I thought I’d hate your story” might be true for a reader, but it probably isn’t a necessary thing to tell an author. Just because you CAN say something doesn’t mean you SHOULD.

Personal Anecdote: A reviewer once told me of my main work, Lucky Child: “I clicked on this story to laugh at it and mock the concept, because it’s sooooo cringey, buuuut... it’s actually pretty great and I grudgingly respect the work you’ve done on it.”

The rest of the review was lovely and very complimentary, but knowing they came to my story intending to make fun of it, being told I wrote for a cringe concept, that they only “grudgingly” respected me... wasn’t the best. Largely because I am secretly afraid that people feel that way, so their review was confirming something I secretly dread. “How many other people are think my concept is cringey?” I found myself worrying. And the word “grudging” made me feel like they resented me for converting them to OC stories, which made me feel... not the best.

I genuinely believe they were trying to be nice and pay me a compliment NOW, but I will admit that I was somewhat unsettled by the comment when it first came in. There were better ways they could have communicated with me, for sure. Again, Hanlon’s Razor came in handy in this instance, and now I look at that review (and reviews like it) positively. But it did take me a while to put aside the negative implications. It helps that Lucky Child gets a comment like this every few weeks, LOL. At some point I’ve gotten used to them. Now I wear them as badges of honor and love receiving them. AGAIN, THOUGH: I’ve had practice. Authors less used to that kind of comment would likely respond the way I did at the beginning.

In conclusion?

In the end, I think using the structure of a backhanded compliment is confusing as heck when what a reviewer INTENDS to do is pay a genuine compliment.

So to reviewers who want to leave remarks like these? I’d say try to structure your comment in a clear way, avoid structuring a compliment like an insult, and be sure you’re not leaving room for miscommunication. Writers are notoriously sensitive creatures (myself included), and their command of language means they’ll read VERY DEEPLY into things if you’re at all ambiguous. Clarity, in all things, is key.

Honestly? Times like these are why I wish we taught more rhetoric in schools. The MANNER in which you communicate a thought can completely negate the CONTENT of your thought if you don’t use the right rhetorical device to communicate it, and using the rhetoric of insults to convey compliments is bad use of language. Mind your rhetorical devices, people! They’re important, especially if you consider yourself a writer.

To writers who receive these comments? I’d say to write down a version of Hanlon’s Razor and to repeat it to yourself often: “In misunderstandings, never assume malice where thoughtlessness will do.” I’m not saying all reviewers who leave this kind of comment are thoughtless, of course. But I AM saying that most of the time during misunderstandings (especially ones that take place on the internet, where you can’t read tone, body language and facial expression), people just don’t realize that their words can be misconstrued for anything other than what they intended. Most of the time, they have the best intentions. But since outcome is more important than intention, that can be cold comfort for those on the receiving end of a badly communicated review.

TL;DR for Reviewers: Don’t leave comments like these if you don’t want to be misunderstood.

TL;DR for Writers: Don’t take comments like these personally, because most reviewers don’t mean them maliciously.

I hope this helps, OP. Sorry if it’s too much!!

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reddit-tales · 4 years

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Change my view: “Gender Dysphoria is a cureable mental illness, we've stopped looking for the cure because society is now forced into accepting transgenders.”

There is something known as the social model of disability that applies here. Being deaf for instance is generally considered a disability, but if society were set up such that we didn’t use sound as our primary means of communication than being deaf would not have any negative impacts on a person’s life and it would no longer be classified as a disability. This applies with mental illness as well, something is only a mental illness if it causes significant distress in a person’s life by definition. What is and isn’t a mental illness is a rather arbitrary line to draw and some of it is dependent on what society is willing to accept and accommodate. This means that one could eradicate a mental illness by changing society, that is entirely possible.

Mental illness treatment is a rather tricky thing in general. It usually involves a lifetime of medication and a various forms of therapy that can only ever lessen the problems while only occasionally producing anything resembling a cure in a minority of people. That is the current level that mental illness treatment is at. If you consider gender dysphoria a mental illness though, compare that to what happens when people transition. It cuts suicide attempts by an order of magnitude. Post-op trans people still have a higher suicide rate than the general population by a couple percent, but that’s still an order of magnitude better than the nearly 50% pre-op suicide rate. As mental illness treatments go, transitioning has insanely good almost perfect results. People would kill to have something even half that effective for anxiety and depression. The higher post-op suicide rate than the general population is fully explainable as a result of people not accepting them including often their own family.

Transitioning saves lives, that’s just an objective fact. Trans acceptance is suicide prevention. The only reason to not do it would be if it also has consequences that are somehow worse than the thing it prevents. I can’t even think of a single negative consequence though, let alone one worse than avoiding a proven suicide prevention measure. Calling sex reassignment surgery “mutilation” is misleading at best. It’s a cosmetic operation done in a starile hospital room under anesthetic by a trained surgeon, not a schizophrenic castrating himself with a rusty knife. If that’s the standard for calling something “mutilation” than a hip replacement is “bone mutilation” and open heart surgery is “chest mutilation”. If you are worried about children transitioning, people have thought of that. Although transphobes will often call it “chemical castration” in their usual fear mongering way, puberty blockers only postpone puberty for as long as a person is on them and the moment they stop taking them things resume as normal. Nobody is seriously suggesting doing anything irreversible to anyone under 18.

Homosexuality was once considered a mental illness too. However, people realized that they were freaking out about nothing and that everyone is better off when nobody goes out of their way to cause active harm in order to prevent a harmless action. That is happening again with trans people, though that movement has been consistently a few years behind gay and lesbian acceptance.

I should probably clarify where I’m coming from here. I’m the son of a trans women, and I dated a trans man once who I’m still close friends with to this day. My trans-parent was sent to conversion therapy, in a move that lead to multiple suicide attempts she blamed herself for it not working and that sort of thing can put people in a really dark place. She has since decided to embrace who she is and transition. My trans-man friend and I have shared things with each other that nobody else on Earth knows about us. I have known him for every step of the transition process, and I have seen his mental health improve quite a lot as a result. He was in a really bad place when I first met him, and now he’s doing much better.

I would also like to add that I am diagnosed with mild autism myself, and I have problems with the way you seem to think of that sort of thing. I don’t know if this is intentional or if you’ve just spent too long around transphobic rhetoric (I’m going to assume the latter), but the tactic of comparing gender dysphoria to mental illness only serves to pin the existing stigma associated with mental illness to being transgender. It’s an appeal to ableism, basically. Calling it a mental illness changes nothing though. Mentally ill people still deserve a basic level of decency, the right to express themselves, and freedom from bullying. The word “delusional” is often carelessly thrown around in relation to transgender people, but that is factually inaccurate based on what is known about gender dysphoria and it only serves to bring to mind stereotypes of mental illness. I have to deal with enough ableism shit on my own, and I hate seeing it used against people I care about too. They don’t deserve that.

#change my view #transphobia tw

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umnvatra · 3 years

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About Zhongli's state in the game right now..

I just want to vent(?) and let out my thoughts about this whole ordeal as a Zhongli simp. Take note that if you are someone who has Zhongli or wants Zhongli/is planning to roll for Zhongli and wants to read this post, be prepared. Because as much as i hate to say it, this one is gonna be harsh. I wish it wasn't, but the truth really hurts and is also something that i struggled to accept sjdjdjchsk

Ngl i'm probably going to get hands thrown at me because of this post but i really, really want to vent about what Mihoyo did to his character. This week has been a roller coaster when it comes to Zhongli. From being super excited for his release, being elated getting him, to being absolutely devastated at all the comments and information that had come out prior to his release.

Basically, as a 5*, Zhongli is very underpowered and underwhelming. This is something i hadn't noticed myself because my Zhongli still didn't have a proper build and weapon yet, but when i did, i felt my own happiness plummet at the weight of the reality.

I don't care if he is strong as a support or a dps, and no i don't want him to necessarily be good at being dps. But this will include a lot of stuff regarding damage because he is a five star with nuking potential. It's also this way because he is THAT underpowered. Even having him be a very good support would be a blessing, but as it goes, he is not.

First it was the comments in Youtube videos, arguing with each other about how bad/good he was. Those comments made me question a lot of things. But i felt absolutely crushed when Jinx and Tuner uploaded their stream of their Zhongli and Xinyan testing.

For those that don't know, Jinx and Tuner run a youtube channel where they test many things in Genshin and provide objective information about them based on the results of their testing. When i saw how incredibly disappointed and frustrated they were with Zhongli, i felt really, really sad. After all, they provide maths. Not only are they one of the genshin youtubers that i trust but they also study characters closely and tell you if a particular 5 star character is worth pulling for or not. And you guessed it, they concluded that Zhongli was NOT worth pulling for as a five star character because he is so heavily underpowered.

Then there comes the arguements presented.

Majority of people thought that Zhongli was going to be more of a support character rather than dps, and i could see why, but ironically he has more potential as a phys carry. And this information comes from the testing that Jinx and Tuner made.

However

Xiangling is still a better physical carry than Zhongli especially when you take into account the abilities she can use while attacking. Zhongli's pillar has questionable energy recharge generation, something that i too had noticed. Every tick of the pillar does NOT guarantee an energy, and it drove me crazy. Meanwhile you have Xiangling who can easily bring out energy with Guoba if she so wanted.

And you need C6 Zhongli in order for him to heal like Noelle too by the way. And Noelle is a 4* that is guaranteed on your first time playing the game. 👁

Zhongli's shield is good for sure, but then you have Noelle who can shield + heal. In terms of stuff being done, Noelle's is better. Zhongli's shield is strong yes, but it can STILL disappear after one or two hits from enemies (at least from our experience in higher AR. I have no idea if the same applies to lower AR).

Now for his meteor. Yes, his meteor is good. Not only is it spammable, but it deals great damage as well. BUT THEN you have Ningguang who can be a better burst spam and possibly deal more damage than his could do (remember, Ning has a lot of jades that could each deal 1k if built properly). The duration for petrification is 3 seconds too, which, a lot of people argue isn't enough time (personally, i have no problem with this since i do not mind it much). And apparently his meteor got nerfed because it does not increase geo damage and phys damage as it used to in the beta testing with petrification.

How about his ability in being able to break shields by holding E? Truth be told, i expected that he was going to be able to explode all shields in one go, but it does not work for every one of them apparently. Shields by hilichurls do break with just one E hold. But the ones by Mitachurls don't. I also tried breaking the Geo Hypostasis's pillar using his E hold and it did not break immediately. This could differ however. 👁 I'm still not sure if its because i have not properly built him right for breaking them or not. And about Stonehide Lawachurls... it's the same as the Geo Hypostasis pillar. The geo shield does not break immediately.

I'm not saying all this because i am mad at Zhongli. Rather, i am disappointed at what Mihoyo did to him. I am absolutely happy to get Zhongli. He is the one character i had been looking forward to for MONTHS. I saved resources in advance for him and even held off on leveling up my current team so i could dump all said resources on him when i get him. I stayed as AR35 for many many weeks because i wanted to level him up properly before ascending my World Rank. I think he is super fun to use especially with his burst and i absolutely adore the animation and when he crosses his arms and does his 'osmanthus tea' monologue at the most random times with his lil hand gestures. Even just listening to his voice while being idle fills me with so much happiness. There is so much joy in getting him. Which is why i am very disappointed at Mihoyo for how they butchered his character.

After Jinx and Tuner made their video about the results of their testing with Zhongli, i was genuinely saddened but i gradually came to accept the truth. It sucks, it hurts, but it is the truth. Even they said that they wanted Zhongli to be a GOOD character, but he is just insanely underpowered right now. You can invest resources into him and make him work, but compared to 4* and the other 5*, it takes so much effort. To make him decent, you'd have to level his stuff up so much but that also applies to four star characters and they perform better than him. Husbando > meta yes, but i gotta say that it still stings when my underleveled Xiangling and Fischl could do a much better job being a dps and support respectively than him when he's many levels above them.

Which brings me to the main point of this post.

Why was Mihoyo scared of making him strong? OP? Why did they nerf him so much? He is a 5* character Mihoyo, make him be STRONG at something. It's why he's a five star. But no. They watered him down so much to the point where even four star characters can do his own job better than him. His pillar doesn't even deal damage upon being destroyed just like Geo MC's. The range of his pillar's resonance is too small, and given the fact that his auto attacks can push enemies (except for the bigger ones of) or can be easily walked out of range to is 👁👄👁

And it deals criminally low damage. Like, why? Why not rack up the numbers? What is the problem????

The more i think about it, the more i can see the points that people have been pointing out. If the issue of energy generation with his pillar is RNG based, then that's simply screwed up. It already adds into the lists of problems that doesn't help with how underpowered he is. And as i am writing this post rn, there are lots and lots of Chinese players enraged about how weak he is as a 5* and causing HUGE fights in forums. People in the genshin subreddit had been debating again and again over heated arguements about his abilities. Even if you visit the genshin subreddit today and check every post about Zhongli, you will see people in the comments mention stuff about how he performs in the game and his abilities.

Mihoyo, give him a buff. I know that giving buffs isn't your thing, but there is honestly thousands and thousands of people expressing their disappointment and anger in how weak you've made him. He is a fan favorite. I love him. Majority of the genshin fanbase do. His character is really good and it hecking sucks that he is having major difficulties in fitting in on the game right now. He deserves better. Make him strong. Buff him. Adjust some of his abilities. Literally give. our. geo. dad. justice.

Those who don't care about damage is probably rolling their eyes at my rant rn but given how objectively weak he is compared to the other characters in game, it won't hurt if he gets a buff.

When the survey for Zhongli and Xinyan comes, rate him low. I know. It sucks. It's despicable. Even i hate it. But that is why we have to do it. If we become honest to Mihoyo about how much weak they made him, then maybe they are going to consider buffing or adjusting his abilities.

I'm sorry for the negative post. There is still hope for geo dad. He is incredibly fun to use but if you are debating on whether to pull for him or not, my answer would be

If you absolutely love him as a character, go for it.

Otherwise, just wait for now. Because his state in the game isn't looking so good at the moment.

For those that already have him and are also disappointed or saddened by what happened, take comfort in knowing that tons of people are still using Zhongli (including me who went through such roller coaster of emotions lmaoaoaoa) regardless of the information that he is behind in terms of being a dps and support. And that there is still hope for him (WAIT FOR THE SURVEY AND RATE HIM LOW YO 😭😭😭 IT WON'T GUARANTEE THAT MIHOYO IS GONNA BUFF HIM BUT WITH ALL THE PEOPLE RAGING RN THERE IS A HIGH POSSIBILITY THAT THEY WILL LOL)

Have some goofy screenshots that i took while playing as Schlongli

#[nanderthal.]#genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #hang in there my lovelies 😭😭#i hate it too but sjfjshfoehdoshs #our hope lies in the surveys #and the rage; ironically enough #other than that if you really want to use him then go for it 🥺#there is no one stopping you #he is super fun to play after all!!#he just deserves better goddamnit mihoyo 👁😭#give us that OP petrification #or even better pillars #anYTHING MIHOYO

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xfadingstarx · 4 years

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A Bleach Retrospective: In defense of Bleach

These are opinions, please respect that.

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My Journey with Bleach (please skip if you want to go straight to the analysis):

On September the 8th, 2006 YTV’s weekend evening anime programming block (Bionix) aired the first episode of Bleach. I, unfortunately, did not catch this episode, instead, I caught the second episode on September 15th the following week. I was ten and from then on, Bleach fascinated me. It had an interesting concept, tight pacing, catchy music, a good story, and unique character designs. I also really enjoyed how Bleach lacked the same kind of emotional labour that Naruto demanded (as child who survived off of constantly seeking validation from others because of absentee parents, Naruto is way too much work).

My fascination with Bleach got me started in the fandom communities of yesteryear, for I was a child with zero internet supervision. My introduction to fanfiction was because I loved Hitsugaya Toshiro.

Bleach was my entry into poetry (poem at the start of every volume).

But alas, all good things were not meant to last and by the summer of 2009, I was officially done with Bleach. It had felt stilted for some time before then. Over the years, I would gradually revisit bits and pieces of Bleach, but I would not read it in its entirety until months after its finish, about a decade after I had first saw Bleach on my TV. Between the time I stopped reading and the series ended, I became friends with people who didn’t think highly of Bleach and I also started seeing criticism I had made about Bleach in 2011 being repeated by fans on the internet, I started to think that maybe Bleach was bad, but I knew what bad writing looked like —I started reading fanfiction through Bleach fanfiction AMVs on YouTube — and somehow Bleach didn’t sit right with me in the “bad writing category”.

I sit back now, a decade and ahalf later from when I first started and ask, “was Bleach really that bad, and if so, why do I keep coming back to it?”

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What Made Bleach So Good?

Unique story and aesthetics: When Bleach first started in 2001, it was one of the first manga series to talk about souls and death in a poetic way and with such coherence. Bleach clearly knew what it wanted to say about life and death. It also had a very unique aesthetic, very similar to that of “The World Ends With You” or “Persona 5″ — an urban Japanese take on R&B kind of vibe. Also, Bleach had the most “realistic” and minimalist art style amongst the Big 3.

Cool Music: Bleach had cool music, from very solid rock’n’roll and R&B style songs in its OPs and EDs to very funky OST music with lots of pizzazz. Many singers feature by Bleach ended up successful (to varying degrees) outside of anime, eg: Orange Range, UVERworld, YUI, sid, etc.

Versatile tone: Bleach was edgy, there’s no doubt about that. It was willing to show a lot of blood and bodily violence, especially in the manga (eg half of people blowing up and bits of bone still attached). Despite this though, it was not pretentious about its edginess — it didn’t revel in it. To contrast the edginess, there is a lot of humour in Bleach with character interactions. It was able to be laid back enough with its strong characters that it would rely on the characters’ relationships for comedic relief. The post-credit skits and the fillers really helped to add to this overall feel as well.

Maturity of the Story: Bleach was very willing to handle topics that made people think. For example, the Ulquiorra - Orihime subarc was treated with a sense of carefulness about it, as if to reflect Ulquiorra’s own cautious curiosity about the heart. A less emotionally mature story would’ve gone for the cheap rape/torture porn, but instead we are treated to determined strong Orihime, who has found strength through the heart after the death of her brother, clashing with the nihilistic hollow who wants to know if there is happiness outside of emptiness. It’s a very loaded question and one that requires both perspective and life experience to fully understand both parties. As well, Bleach always knew what it wanted to say about life and death as the final conflict of Bleach is between Ichigo, who has accepted his transient life and Yhwach, who is scared of death. And ultimately, underneath all that action, Bleach produced takes on its themes that were hard to relate to unless the reader themselves had a certain level of emotional maturity (eg: 12 year old me got nothing out of the Ulqui-Ori arc, but 20 year old me spent a good 10 mins crying after)

Strong characters: Contrary to popular belief, Bleach does have quite solid characterization. In fact, Bleach is the journey of Ichigo as a character, from grappling with his weakness and pain to finally accepting all the parts of himself and his history in order to defeat Yhwach and protect those he cares about. Even the secondary characters of Bleach receive a sizable amount of backstory and/or development. Bleach also managed to have more proactive female characters. Even the damsel in distress Orihime stands up to Ulquiorra and slaps him. As a result of these strong characters, Bleach was able to rely on them and their relationships to drive aspects of the story (eg Ichigo crying in the Fullbringer arc).

Willingness to Deal with Emotion: Given that Ichigo is an internally motivated character, it was obvious Bleach would deal with emotion at some point in time. Making Ichigo just a normal high school boy also relives the previous edginess. Bleach also clearly too the time to make its readers feel in its early years. We are treated to beautiful panelling and very real displays of strong negative emotions. Bleach is also very good at giving its characters room to breathe and be sad. Eg: moping Orihime, moping Ichigo, etc. As well, Kubo went to extraordinary lengths to break Ichigo down during the Fullbringers Arc.

Interesting Character Designs: Every character in Bleach feels vibrant and unique with their personality showing through in their designs. For example: Shunshi’s sloppily tied up hair, visible stubble, and overcoat-hidden-haori show that he is both easy going and not looking for a fight; meanwhile Byakuya’s neatly pulled back hair and neck covered by scarf show that he is both someone who likes structure and is conservative.

Poetry and Symbolism: Kubo manages to weave poetry into Bleach in the beginning of each volume. The poem was said by the character on the volume. It gave the reader insight to this character and it gave Kubo a chance to flex his poetic chops. Further proof of this is the fact that many people don’t realize that the name “Bleach” refers to the bleaching of soul that is key to the story. Kubo loves to use rain to set sad scenes. It rains when Ichigo fights Grand Fisher, Zangetsu tells Ichigo that he hates the rain, etc. Kubo also specifies that he wishes for the reader to read certain volumes on stormy, rainy nights.

Panelling: Many people like to criticize Kubo for the lack of effort with the Bleach manga, but Kubo has stated that he uses negative space (i.e., foregoing backgrounds) to focus more on his character’s expressions. This not only further proves that Bleach cares a lot about its characters, but it’s done well enough that the average reader likely doesn’t notice the lack of background on the first read through. As well, Bleach has very cinematic panelling. Kubo uses the format of manga well, utilizing the human mind’s ability to fill blanks in with clever panelling to create tone and build tension and the feeling of movement through a scene.

In fact, in finding pages for this analysis, I found myself noticing that Bleach panels very similarly to slice-of-life shoujo but with a boy MC manga like "Horimiya": focus on expression through intimate angles and use of panels and breaks to create mood and the feeling of cinema; whereas something like DBZ panels like a shounen action manga with many hard lines and action shots, instead of a focus on subtle details and emotions.

Some Examples:

Notice now in Chapter 197: The approaching danger, Kubo uses a gradual zoom to build tension and the black background to add intensity and signal to the reader that Hitsugaya is relaying important information.

Here in Chapter 234: Not Negotiation, the immediate close up to Ulquiorra’s eye from the full body shots creates a sense of intimidation and unease with its sudden intimacy. As well, the immediate zoom in from Ulquiorra’s side full body shot to his facial profile creates tension and the change from the dark background to the white face with Orihime releases this tension (very fitting with considering the line for this panel is “but not you”). (This scene also ties into Ulquiorra’s central dogma of “that which is not reflected in my eyes does not exist’.)

Again in the same chapter, this gradual zoom in on the two creates tension that is then release in the next panel and summarily cements Ulquiorra as a terrifying BAMF.

In Chapter 262: Unblendable, Kubo uses the negative space to create a feeling of isolation, similar to how Orihime is supposed to be feeling.

In the same chapter, notice how Kubo creates a sense of intimacy (not in the romance sense) with the relationship of Ulquiorra and Orihime. He creates tension gradually with the zooming into Orihime’s eye and releases it with the zoom out to Ulquiorra. Through this scene, Kubo has shown us that Ulquiorra and Orihime have a tense relationship and with the implication of eye contact through the shots and panel breaks creating both the intimacy and showing Orihime’s defiance.

(Interestingly, I’ve noticed that Ulquiorra and Orihime have a lot of these intimate zoom shot-reverse-shot eye panels)

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What are the Bad Parts of Bleach?

Okay, so by now, you’re probably thinking that I’m ignoring the massive amounts of critique that Bleach gets and don’t get me wrong, while Bleach does have a very special place in my heart, I’m also not maudlin enough to pretend that Bleach was all good.

Pacing:

Pacing in the First Half of Bleach (Karakura Town - Arrancar)

When Bleach first started out the pacing was excellent. Kubo showed great mastery of pace to control the tone and highlight the emotions throughout the first two arcs. Mid-way through the Arrancar arc, the fatigue sets in and it was hard to keep up with, especially since Kubo would interrupt one exciting fight set up to go set up more plot elsewhere (eg Fake Karakura town right as Ichigo and Ulquiorra were about to battle). Whilst looking back and reading it all at once does help with the pacing, it was frustrating if you were reading/watching on a weekly basis.

Pacing in the Anime:

I don’t ascribe to a simplistic belief of “fillers bad” simply because I think that sometimes fillers can be a good thing, for example, since every chapter is ~15-20pp, some character interactions have to be cut for the sake for space, so filler is a great opportunity to add those moments back into your story. For example, a lot of early Bleach fillers are just the people of Karakura town just hanging out. That being said, Bleach does have an unfortunate amount of fillers, with some of them even interrupting tense fights (eg the Beast Sword Arc interrupts Ichigo’s battle with Ulquiorra). However, the padding that the fillers provided did wonders for the transition between Soul Society to Arrancar Arc in the anime. Ultimately, the Bleach anime adaption was a long-running anime made for syndication and that’s okay.

******* Brief Aside: many people like(d?) to point out that Bleach has a very cyclical plot structure. I used to think this way too; however, this is not the case. There are many other long running stories that repeat similar goals. The problem lies not in the idea, but the execution. The main complaint about the Orihime rescue was not that it was uninteresting, but instead that it felt a rehash of the plot of the previous arc. This is largely because the story was not given enough time to breath between similar character arcs. For example, in One Piece, Luffy and Co have to save Nami and by extension, her home village so she can join them; however, the next time a Straw Hat needs to be saved is 227 chapters (2 whole story arcs) later. In between saving Rukia and Orihime, there is only a really an arrancar encounter, a bit of training, cheering up Ichigo, and a Grimmjow encounter before Orihime goes with Ulquiorra, thus making the goal of this arc “save Orihime” in only ~59 chapters vs 227. These two similar arc goals so close to each other does indeed create the sense of repetition.

Pacing from Fullbringer to End:

This is where Bleach really lost a lot of people. If you weren’t gone after the Ulquiorra fight, you probably were by this arc.This arc went at breakneck speed, and ngl, during my first full read through I almost gave up here too. I mention earlier that Ichigo had been broken down in this arc, but it was hard to feel his despair and the weight on his shoulders because there wasn’t enough for the reader to take a beat and breathe. The Thousand Year Blood War, similarly suffered from sloppy pacing, with many readers feeling like story lines of Squad 0 and the Soul King were anti-climactic. As well, this arc started with a massacre and feature the deaths of many fan-favourite characters, and unfortunately due to the pacing, their deaths were not given a sense of gravity.

Missed Opportunities and Forgotten Story lines: Many people felt that Kubo forgot about a lot of his characters after the Aizen arc. Many thought the Fullbringer Arc was going to be a Chad/Orihime Arc. Whatever happened to Uryuu lolol? We all just collectively forgot about him for a large portion of the last half of Bleach. At one point in time, there was a rumour going around that Kubo had written out the story for Bleach and lost it. Idk if there is any credibility to it. However, in a 2017 interview, Kubo did say that he did end the series exactly the way he wanted to.

(If anyone wants to see me write an entire ass text post about Orihime and her treatment in Bleach, please let me know because I will do it)

Too mature:Even though above, I praised Bleach's mature handle on its themes, an unfortunate side effect of this is forgetting that the characters are only 15 at the beginning and for the first half of Bleach. This unfortunately, leads to some readers feeling disconnected from Bleach.

Epilogue: THE DESTROYER OF SHIPS!!! A lot of people hated this ending. Many people felt like the romance was shoe-horned in, others didn’t like the pairings, and there were some people who actually liked it. Personally, I didn’t like it too much, but it was a cute conclusion nonetheless. Since it didn't add anything to the story except for a "where are they now" look and because of that, I low-key felt like it was unnecessary, but w/e.

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Perspective

Making a long-running weekly serialized story is hard and doing it for 15 years is gruelling (obligatory “fuck capitalism” here). Like many artists of long-running manga, Kubo destroyed his health for the sake of publishing Bleach weekly. Kubo on his health after Bleach (photo from AshitanoGin on Twitter):

Given this insight, I think it’s only fair to be respectful and grateful for Kubo’s contribution to the anime-sphere. Also, through his work, Kubo seems to be a very understanding person and artist. I’m sure he knows better than anyone where Bleach went wrong, but there’s nothing that can be done now. Despite him having a twitter, he is not Joanne and doesn’t feel the need to constantly hemorrhage out word of god info about Bleach (and thank god for that).

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Final Thoughts

It’s hard to forget my happy memories when I think about Bleach. It had my first adolescent crush and first OTP. As a result, I think the best way to enjoy Bleach is to take what you want out of it. People always think that something has to be 100% without flaw for it to be good, but that is not true at all. It is totally okay to just like the parts that you like without engaging with anything else. It’s special to you for a reason, you know?

There’s no use in fretting over what Bleach could’ve been, besides, very rarely is the reality better than the fantasy in your head.

I do think though that a lot of Kubo’s issues could’ve been fixed if he planned the story better but not all of us can be “I've been planning One Piece since elementary school” Oda Eiichiro.

Other voices on this issue: here

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Wow. I can’t believe you made it this far down. Congratulations! Thanks for reading my 2:30am non-sober take on Bleach (it only took me 7 hours to write). Here's a cookie <3

#bleach #pro bleach #analysis #writing #characters #ramblings #pro orihime #orihime #ichigo #ulquiorra cifer #hot take #quarantine thoughts #late night #weebshit #criticism #critique #anime review #manga #i'm still bleach

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 4 years

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Someone Inspiring

BF Artist!Minghao x Female Reader

Word Count: 2262

Contents: nude modelling, sketching and cameras, slight dom svt, masturbation, slight exhibitionism, slight breast play, fingering, dry humping, marking, slight scratching, unprotected sex

For @minghaoss you wonderful human. I was so incredibly lucky to meet such a brilliant writer and amazing person this past summer and though we don’t talk every day I keep up with you. I care about you quite a bit and I’ve seen you go through a lot already on this site with so much unwarranted negativity towards and much like a phoenix you just arise stronger each time. I hope you’ll accept this gift from me.

Minghao found inspiration in many places. You loved seeing the way his eyes lit up, the way wonder overtook his expression as he gazed at something that filled him with ideas. The way he’d pull out his sketchbook or camera to take in the ice covered trees or a beautiful sunset or whatever had caught his attention. You always watched him with a gentle smile, loving the way the beauty of the world brought him to life.

And you were always flattered when Minghao found inspiration in you. On the days where he would capture you in his viewfinder. When he would take as many pictures as he could as you laughed and smiled. When he tried to catch you candidly, when you didn’t know yet that he had the camera on you. Those pictures were always his favourites, the ones where he saw you existing. Those were the ones that ended up in a photo album of all his favourite pictures of you.

But it was laying in bed one afternoon, cuddling with you that a different idea struck him as he played gently with your fingers. You noticed the soft blush that tinted the tips of his ears pink and the nervous smile that tugged at his lips before he even spoke, both of which piqued your interest.

“I’ve been thinking about sketching you,” he hummed.

You grinned. “But that’s not what’s making you nervous, you’ve done that before.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, letting his fingers run gently along your side. “But I was thinking of, having you nude?”

You felt a slight heat rise in your cheeks but you couldn’t deny the way your smile softened as he waited for you reaction.

“That is a new idea.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admitted. “You’re just so incredibly beautiful and I’m comfortable around you. I know the feel of every inch of you but I’m still trying to capture you visually in a way that does you justice.”

“Now you’re just being cheesy,” you chuckled.

“I’m serious,” he hummed, cupping you cheek in his hand and catching you in his loving gaze.

You leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss. “Then where do you want me?”

A grin graced his lips and your heart warmed at the way his eyes lit up. “Here on the bed, just let me get my things.”

As Minghao rushed to get supplies from his studio you pulled off your clothes, tossing them to the side. You tried sitting up and lying down before moving onto your side and posing seductively, waiting for him to come back with a grin on your lips. The second you laid eyes on him you winked and he laughed.

You chuckled as you sat up. “Okay, how do you want me?”

“However you’d like, love,” he said. “I want you to be comfortable.”

A grinned graced your lips as you laid back on the pile of pillows. You gazed at him mischievously as you put both feet on the bed with your knees bent before letting your legs fall open, your hand resting on your hip.

“How’s this?” you asked with as much seduction as you could muster, trying not to laugh.

“That,” he hummed, his eyes drinking you in, “is perfect.”

“Minghao, I was kidding!” you started to push yourself up.

“Oh no, gorgeous, you look far too good. I want you to stay just like that,” he purred.

The shift in his tone and the way his gaze was darkening already had a shiver of arousal rushing through you, never mind the pet name that only ever fell from his lips when he got worked up. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as you relaxed into your position and he began to sketch you.

Every gaze he gave you had your arousal building. You curled your fingers into the sheets and rubbed the skin of your hip with your thumb slowly, getting more and more desperate for any sort of sensation between your legs. His intense eyes were full of any number of ideas of what he wanted to do to you, each one hotter than the last and your impatience was slowly getting the better of you.

You inched your fingers closer to your core, bit by bit, hoping he wouldn’t notice but the smirk on his face as he looked up and you froze the movement of your hand told you you had been caught.

“Are you getting impatient, beautiful?” he asked.

You bit your lip, though not before a small whimper passed through them and he smirked.

“I can only imagine what you’ve come up with in that creative mind of yours,” he mused. “That might be your own undoing, gorgeous, thinking about all the things I could do to you while you have to sit still for me.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you soaked in the intensity of his eyes on you. “I’ll be patient,” you said sweetly, though it was more breathy than you meant it to be and he chuckled.

“Clearly not,” he smirked. “Since your nipples are hard from just the thought of me touching you. I can see how your core is already glistening for me, gorgeous. And don’t think I didn’t see you moving your fingers.”

“Maybe I just thought you’d like a show,” you murmured, though your voice was quieter than you meant it to be.

A whimper nearly passed your lips at the intensity of the gaze he caught you as he set down his sketchbook and got up, heading for his camera.

“That idea sounds fantastic, beautiful,” his voice was low and it was only turning you on more as he grabbed his camera and sat down again.

You bit down on your lip as you dragged your fingers to your core slowly, dragging them through your folds before finding your clit and whimpering as you started to rub it in slow smooth circles. You kept your gaze on Minghao as you started to roll and shift your hips from the slow tendrils of pleasure curling through you from your own touch.

You slowly brought your other hand to play with your chest, rolling your nipple between your fingers and arching up off the bed slightly. You heard Minghao groan quietly and you tried not to show any smugness. You dragged your fingers through your folds again, gathering your slick on them before bringing them back to your clit and rubbing a little faster as you rolled your hips against your hand.

“Minghao,” his name was barely more than a breathy whimper as it left your lips but the way he groaned at the sound was undeniable. You caught him in your gaze for a moment, noticing the way his hands shook slightly and the now obvious bulge in his pants as he tried to take steady pictures of you. You let his name fall from your lips again as you let your head fall back into the pillows and that was all it took to break his resolve.

The second he had placed his camera down carefully, he was on top of you. His lips crashed into yours in a heated, needy kiss. He straddled one of your thighs, rolling his hips into you and groaning at the welcome friction as he brought his fingers between your legs. You gasped into his kisses as he slowly pressed a finger into your waiting heat.

He let his lips move along your jaw and down to your neck as he moved his finger in you, curling it into just the right place and drawing moans from your lips.

“You know me too well, beautiful,” he groaned against your skin. “You know all too well how to get me worked up.”

“Y-You insisted on me keeping me legs op-” your words fell off into a gasp as he pressed another finger into you.

“Don’t get cocky now, gorgeous.” he purred, rolling his hips against you harder. His lips latched onto a spot on your neck and he sucked harshly. The feeling of his lips on your neck and the pleasure coursing through you from each curl of his fingers drews moans from your lips as you ground your hips into his hand. Every now and then a breathy moan of his name would escape your lips and his hips would rut into your thigh harder.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you as he slowly added a third finger. Your eyes slid shut and you moaned out his name loudly as he thrust and curled them inside of you, his own groans growing louder as his hips ground against you quickly, though they were muffled as he sucked purple marks along your neck.

You let one hand slip into his shirt, letting your nails lightly scratch at his skin. The other tangled into the hairs at the base of his neck, tugging gently and earning a beautiful moan from his lips. He pulled back to look at you, chest heaving and gaze clouded with lust as he pulled his fingers from your core. You whimpered as he brought them to your lips and let them into your mouth, holding his gaze as he groaned again.

“You look so sexy like this, pretty girl,” he groaned, his voice lower, the edge in it just a bit rough. “I would love to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, but I’m far too impatient now.”

A whine followed his fingers out of your mouth and he smirked down at you, pulling his clothes off. You bit down on your lip, taking the moment to admire him and marvelling at the fact that you were so good with your words, yet this sight always seemed to render you speechless, clearing your mind of any words you could have put to paper to describe how beautiful he truly was.

Minghao moved between your legs, leaning over you and capturing you in a heated kiss as he slowly ground his cock through your folds. You whimpered against his lips, squeezing your thighs around him and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. He pulled back from the kiss with a smug grin on his face, but as he took in the desperation in your eyes his expression softened ever slightly. He kissed you much more sweetly as he he aligned himself with your and slowly pushed himself in.

Your moans mixed with his in the warm air of the room as you adjusted to the stretch. Your head fell back against the pillows again and his fell into the crook of your neck. He let one hand find your hip as you wrapped your legs around him, the other braced against the bed as he left sloppy kisses against your neck until you rolled your hips a little and dug your heels into his back, urging him to move.

For all of his teasing and how worked up the two of you were, his thrusts were steady, not too fast. But each one was deep and well angled and the pleasure that coursed through you from thrust drew moans and whimpers of his name from your lips. You held him as close as you could, wrapped in his warmth and the intimacy of the moment that you knew made him as weak as it made you.

“You’re stunning,” he breathed against your neck. “You’re a work of art, you f-feel so good.”

Your words were breathy and unfocused as you spoke. “You feel amazing,” your fingers dug into his back. “S-So good. So perfect.”

He rolled his hips just so, moving just a bit faster and you moaned out his name as he hit a spot that had pure bliss coursing through your body.

“Th-There,” you breathed. “R-Right there.” Though you knew he already knew it from the way your back arched and you clenched around him.

He kept his hips thrusting into the perfect spot and you felt your legs start to tremble as you rolled your hips into his, trying to meet each one of his thrusts. Your nails scratched lightly down his back and your heels dug into him, his name falling off your tongue climbing higher in your voice as you got closer and closer.

Minghao moaned between sloppy kisses and sucking marks into your neck. He let his hand trail from your hip between your bodies until his fingers found your core. He brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, slightly clumsy circles as he chased his high.

Your legs shook and squeezed in around his sides as you threw your head back with a loud moan as you came. Waves of euphoria washed over you body as you ground your hips into him, clenching hard around his cock. Minghao’s arms shook as his hips stuttered to a stop and he released deep inside of you with a high, breathy moan of your name leaving his lips.

Both of you struggled to catch your breath as he collapsed onto your chest. He lips left tired, soft kisses against the skin of your neck as you wrapped your shaking arms around him.

“You know me so well, love,” he hummed. “I can barely tease you without you turning it around on me.”

“That’s what makes me fun,” you chuckled.

“That,” he said quietly, nuzzling into your neck. “Is only one of millions of reasons why I love you.”

#christmas 2019 #Seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #Svt #svt imagines #svt smut #the8 #the8 imagines #the8 smut #minghao #minghao smut #minghao imagines #xu minghao #seo myungho #myungho

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

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It is time, once again, friends, for me to watch a Bleach Filler Arc and tell you about it. It is time for the Zanpakutou Rebellion.

I wasn’t really sure I wanted to do this one for a number of reasons, but we watched the second episode last night, and it featured Rukia and Renji fighting back-to-back, and sorry fam, we’re doing this, you’re getting the full force of my zanpakutou spirit headcanons whether you want them or not.

Chrome updated and stopped letting me take screenshots a while ago and I am too lazy to figure out another way, so I figured it would be easier to just illustrate these myself. Let’s see how this goes.

Okay, one thing up front. My attitude towards Bleach filler has always been that it’s just for fun, and it’s up to you, the reader/viewer, whether you want to take any of it as canon or not. I, personally, do not accept this story arc as canon, but I honestly don’t care if you do. My main problem is that I don’t think zanpakutou spirits should be humanoid as a rule, although I do headcanon that most zanpakutou can choose how to manifest themselves, and so they may have a humanoid representation, but that’s not necessarily how they usually appear, which also explains why a lot of the shinigami has trouble recognizing their zanpakutou. I also think Muramasa made Hozukimaru put on that skirt, Hozukimaru has the demeanor of a being who does not believe in pants of any variety.

Anyway, as usual, I am ahead of myself. We starts in a cave that looks exactly like the cave from the Bount arc, with some ominous stuff, but I don’t care, I want to talk about Byakuya! Fighting! Renji!

I think every filler arc has an OP with Byakuya fighting Renji that never actually happens, but right here! First episode! Byakuya fighting Renji while Squad 6 stands around and jeers! Kyouraku and Ukitake are here, too, for some reason! It’s super lit! Byakuya stops paying attention halfway through, but he wins anyway and negs Renji a little, and Renji thanks him for the fight very earnestly and Kyouraku and Ukitake tell Renji he did a good job. This is honestly all I want out of Bleach filler. This is my happy place. Thank you, Zanpakutou Arc for these beautiful Squad 6 hijinks.

As if I weren’t on a big enough high, now we cut to Squad 10, where Matsumoto is lounging on the Crash Couch. Hinamori and Isane come in to hand-deliver an invtation to a vice-captains meeting (Aren’t they just… like… on Wednesdays?) and to complain about their zanpakutou (boy, I wish we got to see Isane’s zanpakutou in this arc!! But no!!) Matsumoto, once again, claims to be training for bankai, mostly by complaining a lot. Hitsugaya grumps around, grumpily.

All of this is so, so perfect, I just need a trip with Iba to the shinigami pub, but instead, everyone gets a mysterious invitation from the Captain Commander to come to Soukyoku Hill at midnight. Really? I would not go.

Regardless, everyone goes. This scene is great because there are too many characters standing around and this is filler meaning the animators phoned it in, so whenever one character is talking, there are at least three people in the background not moving and making a facial expression that does not go with whatever else is going on. For example, Sasakibe shows up and falls over, and his body is just… there. In the middle of everything. Also, it’s mostly captains and vice-captains, but also Ikkaku and Yumichika and Rukia are there. Someone’s like, “Hey, Ikkaku and Yumichika, why are you here?” and they’re like, “Uh, Zaraki and Yachiru are on a business trip” and then someone else is like “Hey, Rukia, why are you here?” and she just does Big Shrug Arms. This is perfect Big Filler Energy. They are here because we want to see their embodied zanpakutou spirits obviously, why must you demand explanations?

Anyway, Muramasa shows up in hall his Hot Topic glory and waves his scary fingernails and cries blood and announces that all the zanpakutou have rebelled. Then follows a hilarious scene where everyone tries to do their releases and it doesn’t work.

Episode ends/next episode begins.

Ichigo is bouncing around Karakura, like he does, when Rukia falls out of a senkaimon in the sky. (They can make them next to the ground, I don’t know why they never do) Sode no Shirayuki then shows up and it takes Ichigo a phenomenally long amount of time to figure out who she is. To be honest, I would love if this arc went in the direction that Shirayuki has it out for Ichigo for taking Rukia’s powers (Zanpakutou Headcanon #2: Zanpakutou spirits have zero perspective outside of their shinigami being the most important thing in the world to them, and Shirayuki, especially brainwashed Shirayuki, would love to take a piece out of Ichigo. Obvs, they would become best friends after Ichigo defeats her, as is his way).

After being suitable ominous, Shirayuki ollies out, and Ichigo takes Rukia back to the Shoten for Orihime-heals and flashbacks.

Rukia recaps back to Soukyoku Hill, except this time, Renji’s the only one trying fruitlessly to do his release. One reading of this, is that it’s just a recap, we don’t need to see all this again, except that then they cut to Byakuya making the Mariah Carey “I don’t know her face” for like, 10 whole seconds, and it’s sublime.

Anyway, everyone starts fighting, and Ikkaku tries to attack Komamura’s zanpakutou, which is such a colossally bad idea. I am always hoping that they will kill off characters during filler arcs and then have them be inexplicably alive later, like they used to do on Teen Titans GO! and I absolutely would have offed Ikkaku at this point if I were in charge. The zanpakutou spirits start absolutely trashing the Seireitei, mostly setting things on fire and causing ice avalanches, and just generally going bananas. I really wish there had been a montage of someone cutting heads off parking meters and spray painting “Fuck the Central 46” on the side of Squad 1, but no.

We then see Rukia and Renji running around, fighting together, and I ascended. This is all I ever want. Bless this arc. They get attacked by Sasakibe’s Gonryuu (I wish there was a running gag of no one knowing who he is, and maybe there is, later, I don’t remember) and Hisagi’s Kazeshini, who is the best zanpakutou in this whole arc, he is an unhinged Nightcrawler with sick abs and I love him. I don’t remember what happened next, because I was so distracted by my OTP doing Battle Couple, but Byakuya shows up, standing on a tower (dude likes standing on a tall thing almost as much as Rukia does), so of course, we have to do “Nii-sama!” “Taichou!” B L E S S.

Then Senbonzakura shows up, also standing on a tall rooftop, dunh dunh DUNH! It’s too bad that the Fullbringer arc sort of ruins this because the whole time, I was like “just nail him in the safety zone,” and honestly, Byakuya having a “safety zone” is… well, it’s kinda lame when you say it out loud. Anyway, Rukia flips out, and Renji’s like, “no, no, I’m sure he’s fine,” and then they get avalanched by Sode no Shirayuki and that’s all Rukia remembers.

As usual, no one is the least bit concerned for Renji, but honestly, if anyone can survive being repeatedly Senbonzakured and Hakurened, it’s that guy.

There’s a part where Rukia is telling this story and Ichigo puts his hand on his chest, and you can see the little wheels in his head turning, like, “where do I keep my zanpakutou? Is it here? What is the ‘heart’?”

Yoruichi shows up to provide more exposition, as is her Filler Arc duty, and they establish that the rebellion seems to have only gone as far as Soul Society.

Ichigo goes home to sleep in his clothes, but the Mod Souls show up to tell him that Rukia went back to Soul Society in the middle of the night. Man, the Mod Souls are in this arc, W H Y ? ? ?

Urahara agrees to send Ichigo to Soul Society why WHY W H Y would you send the guy with the awesomest and most DNGAF zanpakutou to the place where the zanpakutou are rebelling??? At this point, if I hadn’t seen this before, I would definitely assume that Urahara was behind all of this.

Some other points: Why would you not take Chad and Ishida and Orihime (and Yoruichi, for that matter), people with powers who don’t have zanpakutou? Truly, I tell you, Chad does not mind being woken up for this, and Ishida would love the chance to smugly show up and lecture a bunch of powerless shinigami. Also, if I were in Bleach, you better bet my first reaction to everything would be to ask Orihime to try to reject it, no matter how dumb it sounded. It’s worth a try! I would not go anywhere without Orihime. Orihime is the GOAT. Did we all forget the part in the Bount Arc where she killed some friggin’ ninja? I sure didn’t.

Anyway, that’s it for this time, keep tuning for next episode, where Ichigo will surely have regrets.

#bleach filler #zanpakutou rebellion arc #bad sketches #the inherent eroticism of fighting back-to-back with your bae #squad 10 couch #extremely specific things polynya loses her mind over

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makeroomforthejolyghost · 4 years

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ok well i originally drafted this while thinking about this post, but it’s relevant to what i wanted to say about (my tags on) this one too so i’ll just post it now, how ‘bout that.

i mean, Getting Used to It (and thus expanding your definition of “i’m fine”) isn’t always as dramatic as your brain completely turning off its pain response to an event, so that you don’t realize you’ve injured yourself until some other clue tips you off. that’s certainly happened to me? (and w/ smaller injuries it happens to healthy people too, as when you cut yourself on paper without noticing, and it doesn’t start to hurt until you see it bleed.) but the more everyday/pedestrian forms of this phenomenon are, like. that the level of pain i rated as an 8 in 2016 now reads to me as, like, 5. and that when you’re depressed (or at least when i am), pain goes up but interest in that pain goes down, because of depression’s tendency to normalize negative stimuli.

i think these are two manifestations of the same thing: your brain removes fear from the equation, and since fear makes pain more intense, most pain experienced in fear’s absence seems like no big deal. and that goes double for painful stimuli you once associated with fear but no longer do? in a sorta feedback-loopy way. or at least it does for me. less fear-->less pain-->even less fear the next time something similar happens.

if i sit in nearly any given position too long, one or more of the joints in my legs will sometimes... well, i think subluxate is technically the right word?* but it’s not like a sudden pop: it’s like, as the muscles around them relax my joints slowly slide out of place. as you can imagine (given the low bar required to achieve it), this happens A Lot; i don’t keep track, but probably once a day on average? i know it’s not every day, but also that some days it happens many times, and that both these latter and the days when it doesn’t happen at all often strike me as a change from the norm. so, yeah, probably a mean of once per day. but until sometime in 2019, it used to freak me out—a lot—every time.

it’s often one of those above-mentioned doesn’t hurt until you notice for other reasons scenarios, too, like the paper cut. so i’d be like innocently sitting there, then look down or attempt to adjust position and suddenly OH GOD MY LEG(S). and every time it happened i’d think, “oh god, is this the time i really and truly get stuck and have to be scooped out of this position on a stretcher. fuck, please, no, that would be so humiliating, there’s no way the paramedics would believe me, strangers must not see me like this,” &c., and the more determined i got to prove to myself that i could move, that i wasn’t stuck, that i could get myself out of this, the more horrifically painful these attempts became—partly because fear of pain leads to greater pain, and partly because when you’re panicky you don’t tend to move with much patience or care.

but, of course, every time i would eventually get out of it. it’s hard to say how long it took, because, again, i never timed it, and also because time does weird shit when you’re freaking out. (plus i have adhd, so my estimates of how long things take aren’t the greatest to begin with.) i want to say though that the longest i ever took unpretzeling myself in this way was an hour and a half—and i usually took way less time than that. (it’s hard also to estimate because these days exceeding ten minutes marks an especially long battle of this kind.) iirc, the ~90-minute incident was like, my right hip already felt not quite right, and someone on the internet recommended W-sitting as a way to reduce a subluxed hip, and i tried it because i either didn’t know at that time or had forgotten that when i W-sit for more than a few seconds i often misplace several toes, up to two joints per knee, maybe an ankle, and/or at least one hip. some of these will reduce themselves automatically as soon as i move; others i can only move passively until after i’ve reduced them. so like, that endeavor was a fucking jigsaw puzzle, and good luck figuring those out when a. every wrong move doubles the pain and panic you’re in, but b. leaving the puzzle unfinished is also agonizing. most of the time it was not that bad.

…what was my point? oh yeah: this sat-wrong-now-my-leg’s-stuck business still happens a lot, and it’s n o t like sitting on a pen, where your brain eventually gives up on signaling your discomfort.** nor like when you’re running on adrenaline and your brain doesn’t bother to tell you you’re hungry. nor like what tumblr user bibliosphere described, where her brain evidently just… prioritized other tasks over the “hey please fix this leg” alarm that pain would have signified. but incidents like this do, literally, hurt less the tenth time they happen than they do the first time, and it’s not because your body Toughens Up or whatever either (that only works w/ exercise-related muscle pain); it’s because your brain learns that this event does not pose imminent danger. a subluxation you know how to reduce will hurt less than one you don’t.

that’s what the “i’m always subluxing” version of the hulk meme means. most chronically ill people describe this whole phenomenon as more like the argument from “shot in the knee theory.” as like, you stop screaming because you learn screaming doesn’t help. and i mean… yeah? but ime it’s more that you stop screaming*** when you learn what does help. the OP in that post asks rhetorically,

Are you going to scream and cry the entire time, or are you going to come to grips with reality and accept the fact that freaking out isn’t going to make the ambulance come any faster?

and jesus christ, OP, are you kidding? in real life? definitely the first one! if you literally got shot in the knee, you wouldn’t just scream because it hurt—you would scream also because holy shit, am i gonna die of blood loss? why did they shoot me? are they going to shoot me again??? and pain you’ve had for years, or an injury you’ve sustained many times before, is nothing like that. if it scares you at all, the content of your fear is more like, oh, crap. what’s this gonna feel like tomorrow. will i have to cancel my plans again?

*n.b. i’ve never had this confirmed by a doctor. i just assume that’s what’s happening because 1. the sensations’ non-pain components are very similar to what the subluxations i have had confirmed feel like; 2. if it’s a joint i can see from my position (e.g., the ankle pressed against the floor when criss-cross-applesauced), it usually looks a little fucked up; and 3. it behaves quite differently from regular stiffness, joints in this scenario feeling not so much too tight to move properly as like i keep aiming for and missing the lever that moves them. (and each failed attempt HURTS like my soft tissues are pumpkin guts and my bones are knives trying to scoop them out.)

**i’ve never actually tried this experiment, though, and i’ve heard it doesn’t work on some autistic people. hopefully this goes without saying lmao but my sensory perceptions are Weird in General, so, any hypotheses i build upon them should be salted liberally

***well, whimpering, anyway. for me at least, if i literally scream at an injury it’s not from the pain, it’s from the surprise. i’m more likely to scream when i stub my toe than when i try to bite and my jaw crunches sideways, because the latter is a possibility i sign up for every time i put food in my mouth, whereas like. ob…viously you wouldn’t have stubbed your toe if you’d already known the object you accidentally kicked was there. (except i guess in movies when people kick objects to express rage, forgetting that this will hurt them. in that case i suppose they scream partly from surprise and partly because negative stimuli encountered in “fight” mode reinforce preexisting anger. wow i digress lmao sorry.) but reactions like whimpering, clenching your teeth, &c. only partly come from surprise; they’re also stims, i think, tho clearly not ones unique to ND people. the woman who pierced my ears when i was a kid told me to focus on tapping first one foot and then the other, so i wouldn’t shrink away. i think it’s kinda like that: it releases nervous energy, gives you a competing stimulus to focus on.

#existential fart chart #screalth tag #icee straw kazoo

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firelord-frowny · 4 years

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SIGH so like.

I’m doing some lil exercise/dance videos to work out and I’ve been so encouraged by the ~body diversity~ being featured in the videos. We’ve got buff dudes and buff ladies and skinny people and ~average~ people and chunky people and fat people and they’re ALLLL killing the workouts, even though they have varying degrees of what we think of as “fitness.” And like?? It’s encouraging to see that there’s no one singular Super Special body type that’s the only one that’s capable of being healthy and active and having a lot of energy and stamina.

So, I broke the one rule of the internet and I looked at the comments for some STOOPIT reason.

First comment I see is from a lady expressing gratitude and feeling encouraged by the presence of fat folks killing these workouts right along with ‘fit’ folks. She says,

The beautiful plump girls are making me feel less insecure about this workout! LOL. Can we please have more of this? I'd like to see some women or men my size trying to be and or remain healthy as well. :-) Thank you for this! Diversity matters!

Next comment I see is a reply from a hating ass, self-loathing ass, bitter ass ASS who’s like

I understand cause i am fat as well but I find the insecurity and the shame to be helpful because no one should ever be contempt with being fat. When it comes to workout videos seeing overweight people losing weight does help but maintaining health while fat is delusional. These workout companies just put these people just to make people feel better and do not really care cause if those fat people become healthy then they would fire them and replace them with another fat person.

Like??? what the literal fuck is wrong with people that they can’t hear SOMEONE ELSE talk about the positive psychological impact of seeing people with their body type working out without feeling the need to show up and vomit negativity and shame all over them??

Nowhere did OP even say that people should be *content (not “contempt,” illiterate ass jerk) with being fat though if you ask me, people have every right to be content with however the fuck their body is, “healthy” or not. I’m just saying that’s not what the OP said.

This is literally one person witnessing someone else’s confidence and comfort, feeling threatened by it, and going out of their way to force that person to feel as much shame and self loathing as they do.

And?? This whole idea that fat people ~should feel shame and insecurity because iT’s nOt HealTHY~ is so fucking transparent, because literally no one is going around harassing people with any other health issue under the sun, even if it is caused by ~lifestyle choices.~ Like jeez, smokers and drug addicts catch less shit for being “unhealthy” than fat people do, and the ONLY reason for that is that smokers and drug addicts can still fit the narrow-ass parameters of “attractiveness.” And I’m not even saying that smokers and drug addicts should be shamed and ridiculed, because they shouldn’t! They should be given access to resources to help them get healthy, and if they’re determined to Not Do That, then they should be given the tools to do what they want to do without hurting anybody else!

And I’ll say this: All three of the chunky folks in this video (a dude and two ladies) were almost literally twice my size. They’re killing the damn work out. They’re not out of breath. They’re not drenched in sweat. They’re not visibly uncomfortable. They’re not stopping to take breaks every 90 seconds.

You know who is??

ME!!

Me, who no one (besides my sad sad mom) would ever think to describe as “fat” and who actual Fat Folks might even describe as thin. Me, whose dietary habits are of the sort that cause people to drop dead from heart attacks in their 40s or 50s. Me, who’s not nearly as strong or as enduring or as energetic as ANY of my heavy friends and family who eat way healthier and live way more active lifestyles.

I guaranfuckintee that all three of those chunky folks in that video have stronger hearts than mine. Shit, maybe they do have health issues I can’t possibly know about from looking at them, but that’s the damn point. ANYONE who eats a shit diet and doesn’t move their ass with any regularity is gonna have fuckin clogged arteries and low stamina and a weak immune system and be at higher risk for heart disease and strokes and cancer and general Death, REGARDLESS of their weight.

If I’m going to feel “ashamed” of anything (which I’m not), it’s going to be the choices I’ve made and the habits I’ve allowed myself to develop that put my long-term health at risk. I’m NOT going to be ashamed of or embarrassed by my jiggly thighs or my extra Soft Tummy or my blubbery arms, because that’s all fucking irrelevant. If my body is meant to be smaller or firmer when I become someone who eats healthy and gets exercise, then that’s what will happen. And if I’m meant to stay jiggly, then I’ll just be fit and jiggly. Either way, I’m not about to waste my precious mental energy on feeling ~insecure~ because OTHER PEOPLE are superficial assholes when I could instead be feeling confident and proud of my choice and grateful for my ability to change my lifestyle in such a way that I stand a better chance of living longer and having a richer, more fulfilling life.

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quirkcounselor-asuka · 4 years

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[Case number: OP-0166255-550 Examination recording number: N/A Physician/Psychiatrist: Asuka, Ayumu Recording date: Thursday, March 19th Recording time: 1:30 pm] @v-overhaul

[Morning hits and sunlight smacks hard against his blood-shot eyes, illuminating just how much of a headache Chisaki has from the drugs injected into him the night before. He wakes up uncomfortable, as usual. No memories of the previous evening immediately come to mind - things tend to blur together when one is forcibly given painkillers and walked between the same two rooms every day. Chisaki wishes the sunlight would fade, it’s painful where it hits his eyes and he’s already had enough of it. When they first brought him here he used to cherish the few rays that filtered in through the tiny, barred window, but now they’re just like everything else in this place. They hurt.

Chisaki wriggles into a sitting position with a groan. Everything is so much harder without his arms. The bastards seeing to him said there would be the chance of prosthetics but he's seen no such proof of that yet. He grits his teeth as he swings his legs off the bed. It feels awful to be so weak, so pitiful. He's not been at the mercy of another since her and he swore it would never happen again.

But then-

That exceptional boy-hero. Eri. The League of Villains and their demented leader-

Kai swallows. Panic creeps in so easily these days. Even the thought of Shi- of that man turn his stomach. He tries not to think of him as he sits and waits for whatever will be thrown at him today.]

[Eventually... the door starts to unlock. It's a deep and unsettling sound in the cell, loud and harsh clicks and a quieter whirling as the mechanisms that kept Chisaki locked inside were undone, one by one. After the very last padlock was done, there was a rush of movement as two guards suddenly burst into the room, faces shadowed and glaring.

They storm towards the bed, each grabbing hold of him, vicelike grips digging first around what's left of his arm, and then into his shoulder. Then they each take a turn, one striking him hard in the gut with a balled fist and then the other, smirking and laughing as they did. Then, once they were finally satisfied with this brief and cruel show of violence, they haul the man up like he's nothing, so roughly it's obvious they want him to know he's nothing, and they drag him out without a word or a care.

Outside the room, two more guards, both holding guns and sneering at the sight of him. With their prisoner in tow, they lead him down the quiet hall, occasionally exchanging words or tossing a casual insult. They bring him down a few floors, and then into a white room, a wide one with a door on either side and a massive pane of glass cutting the room in half. This is when Chisaki is tossed to the floor and the door is slammed shut behind him.

He's left alone for a moment.

Then, on the other side of the glass, the adjacent door is opened. A figure steps inside, smiling politely as they haul in a chair and sit down as close to the glass as possible, looking at him in curiosity before brightening up all the more.]

AYUMU: Hello Chisaki-san...! [It's brutal, but at least it's quick. There are some guards, those who proclaim they 'ain't none too fond of people who pick on little kids', who like to take their time in beating the shit out of him. Some of them spit on him. He's learned to stop fighting back, they only continue if he lashes out. Chisaki barely has time to bring air back into his winded body before he's tossed into the interview room like a sack of shit and drops heavily to the floor.

With no arms to catch his fall, his shoulder takes the brunt. Chisaki groans under his breath and rolls onto his back, squinting at the bright lights dotted along the ceiling. At least he's not in the lab today. They'll just be poking around in his head, rather than his flesh, and he's somewhat relieved.

When he hears someone call his name, he sits up and turns his head to look at them. Immediately, his face screws up with disgust. Right. This idiot.

He crosses his legs and pointedly stares at the floor, silent.] [Asuka only pouts at him when their greeting isn't returned. It rarely ever is, but they can't help but hope that one day...

Ah, well.]

AYUMU: How are you today, Chisaki-san? You're looking much better today! [they say, though they always seem to be saying that. In truth, Chisaki always wears some sort of damage on him, always decorated in bruises and healing cuts. It's a tragic sight, how clearly tortured the man is.]

AYUMU: Are you ready to begin or would you like a moment?

[Chisaki glares at them. He stays silent.] [They pout. So difficult.]

AYUMU: ... Okay, we can take a moment. I understand this week has been really hard... It must be nice to get a moment of peace with a friend, right? So we can stay like this for a bit.

[They make a show of getting comfortable in their chair, displaying the actions in the same way one would mime for a young child. Then they flash another smile.]

AYUMU: I can get you a chair if you ask for one, too. I'm sure the floor is uncomfortable? [It's a feeble attempt to get on his good side. Chisaki doesn't have a fucking good side.]

CHISAKI: A 'friend'. [They smile sheepishly.]

AYUMU: Yes? [Chisaki scoffs and wrinkles his nose. Pathetic. But, he might as well drag this conversation out for as long as possible, he's only got his cell and a potential beating to get back to.]

CHISAKI: Lucky me. The floor is fine.

[He rolls his bruised shoulder around in the socket, wincing at the pain that radiates across his back. That'll leave a lovely bruise, one more for the collection.]

CHISAKI: What do you want? [Their smile turns bright as he responds. They knew that little friendly comment would get to him in one way or another... If only it didn't take such a thing to get him talking.]

AYUMU: I just want to check up on you, Chisaki-san. Make sure you're okay. Know how you're feeling. Same as ever, you know? I worry.

[They watch him carefully, expression turning more serious.]

AYUMU: You're hurting...

CHISAKI: No shit. If you're that concerned then have a talk with your attack dogs.

[Chisaki narrows his eyes at Asuka. They're dedicated to playing good cop, huh? Presumably they want something from him. They're only ever nice to him when they want something. He feels a lump rise in his throat and the seeds of panic take root in the pit of his stomach.]

CHISAKI: I feel like shit. What do you expect?

[Chisaki speaks very matter of factly. Bored. Like he's reading a shopping list.]

CHISAKI: Are you going to kill me soon? Dragging this out is so dull. AYUMU: Kill you...?

[It's then that they slowly pull free a small pad of paper from their jacket, withdrawing a pen next. They open to a new page and jot down Chisaki's name and the date before they continue.]

AYUMU: Why ever would you think we would kill you...? [Chisaki huffs and lays back flat on the floor. He starts idly doing leg raises as he speaks. It's best to keep fit, if there's even the slightest chance of escape then he'll need to be in good enough health to run.]

CHISAKI: Because I'm a waste of resources, time and money. It seems more sensible to clean up a mistake. Bleach it out of existence.

[He turns his head to look at Asuka and narrows his eyes.]

CHISAKI: Unless you want something from me, that is. I presume that's the case, but I'm struggling to figure out what it is. [Asuka tries to keep a small laugh at bay, but it's hard to keep themselves from giggling just a little. It's almost adorable, the way he huffs to himself.]

AYUMU: Do you consider every human life that isn't dedicated to some cause or another a waste of resources? Because if so, that's very reductive...

[They jot that down as well. That clear disregard for others, the... quite plainly, fascinating way that his own wellbeing is just as easily shed as the people he encounters. The fact that he lacks so much empathy that he struggles to understand that someone could simply sympathize wth him, just for existing...]

AYUMU: Would it make you happier if I wanted something more? CHISAKI: 'Happier'?

[Chisaki sneers and sets his leg back on the floor.]

CHISAKI: The only things that you could do that would make me happy would be to let me go or take me out back and shoot me between the eyes.

[This existence is tantamount to torture for him. Purposeless, pathetic, he's undoubtedly the bottom of the food chain in this place. He clenches his stomach muscles and eases himself into a standing position so that he can move across the small space between them to the pane of glass. Little pustules have started to sprout along his cheekbone, a clear sign that he is getting stressed. And too, a clear sign that his quirk is still alive in him somewhere, with no way of bursting free.]

CHISAKI: But it wouldn't serve your purpose to do either of those, would it? So why don't you tell me the point of all these absurd tests?

[Chisaki grits his teeth, thinking of the undignified way the doctors working on him have him stripped and cut open and bled like a pig.]

CHISAKI: Why won't anyone tell me? AYUMU: What is there to tell?

[Is he perceptive or paranoid? Asuka takes that moment to try and decide as they watch him pace, looking sad. It's one of the sadder sights in the field, they think. Watching a prisoner drive themselves mad inside their cages, pacing like animals in a zoo. The hives are worse. If they keep up, they think, they might have to find a way to tranquilize him, and they don't want that. That would cause for another delay, and they are tired, so tired of how long this all was taking.]

AYUMU: Have you considered that we want to help you? That we want you to be better? That, maybe, all this unpleasantness is all going to be worth something in the future? [They huff.] You stew in so much negativity... you expect so much wrong, you can't see what's right in the world, that's the thing that's killing you, not us.

[They sigh again.]

AYUMU: I try to talk to you. You push me away. How can you be expect to be told anything if you can't seem to handle a simple conversation? [The levied accusation makes Chisaki's eye twitch. He can handle whatever they through at him, he just thinks these pitiful conversations about feelings are utterly pointless. They don't care, they can't possibly care, they just want information from him. They want something from him but he can't figure it out and it's driving him crazy.

Utterly crazy.

He continues to stare at Asuka with wide, bloodshot eyes.]

CHISAKI: Fine. Then talk. AYUMU: ...

[They don't answer for a moment, forcing the room into silence for a few seconds.]

AYUMU: ... I've noticed you suffer from psychosomatic symptoms... [they start slowly.] When you're stressed, you break out. This stresses you out, does it not...? Why? [Chisaki doesn't stop staring at them. He turns his body to face them.]

CHISAKI: Because I don't like talking about something as pointless as feelings. I don't understand why it's necessary for my jailer to know if I got my delicate little feelings hurt. I don't trust you. I don't trust why the fuck you need to know those things about me.

[He's almost hissing at them by the time he pauses for breath.

The hives aren't from the stress alone. They're the product of his quirk, worsened by the fact that it cannot be unleashed. Chisaki can feel it boiling beneath his skin, dormant, but certainly still there.]

CHISAKI: They're worse because my quirk isn't functioning properly. AYUMU: ... I am not your jailer. I am your therapist. And because I am such, your feelings are important to me. I don't want you to suffer here, and if you are suffering I can help you get better treatment if and when you cooperate with me. I'm not asking for your trust...

[Though, they are. They really are. They ache for it, that coveted vulnerability that seems rarer and rarer with every moment and every session.]

AYUMU: I'm just asking for you to let me help you. That's all.

[Asuka nods slowly, then writes that down in their pad.]

AYUMU: I had no idea, though... thank you. Can you please tell me more about your quirk and how that's affected you...?

[Therapist, huh? What a bunch of utter bullshit they're spouting. All that talk of care and trust and help, he doesn't believe it for a second. Chisaki has put his trust in Trojan horses once before and stamped its hooves on his life's work. But, he could play along for a little while, it might be to his benefit. He can tailor his responses, reveal nothing important, maybe feign a little emotion if that's what they want.

His face is pulled tight when he takes a seat on the floor again. He sighs.]

CHISAKI: It's called- it's called Overhaul.

[That name seems so sour now.]

CHISAKI: The activation point is- was my hands. I can still feel it there but-

[Chisaki frowns. He looks down at his stumps and clenches his jaw. They couldn't be happy with his research, his dreams, his syndicate, oh no. There was a final blow needed.]

CHISAKI: But there's no way for me to get it out anymore. Not properly. [Another slow nod as they write it down. Basic information. The heroes had found out his quirk on their own, and they had access to every bit of that information they'd gathered during that particular mission. But it's nice to hear it in his own words.]

AYUMU: It's always complicated when a quirk's use is so entwined with one's health... [they murmur, more for themselves than for him.] Do you feel your quirk often? What does this all feel like to you, having it...

[They search for the words.]

AYUMU: ...having it prohibited from you so...? [They're taking notes. What are they writing about him?

Chisaki's eye twitches again.]

CHISAKI: I feel it all the time. Having it linger inside me without being able to use it doesn't feel pleasant. If I could access it, I could fix myself. It's...frustrating.

[He furrows his brows and slumps over himself with another huff. This is pointless conversation.]

CHISAKI: Being stuck like this is frustrating. AYUMU: Mm...

[As he continues, they scrawl in their pen. Possibility of restricted quirk use following thorough rehabilitation?

They wonder if it's possible. The commission doesn't tell them everything, but they've had more than a few glimpses of their plans. They know what's been done and they know what's to come. They know that Chisaki has been deemed utterly unredeemable, more or less anyway, and that they plan to use him for their own purposes as much as they possibly could with little to no mercy attached. They know, with all the commission's studies of extraction and implantation, and with every quirk scientist in the country absolutely rushing to achieve a fraction of everything All for One has accomplished, that there is something that could be done here, not just to help hero society, but to help Chisaki too.

It's a little naive, they know. They are fully aware of every crime the villain before them has committed. It may not be possible, it may be too late to sow even a single seed of good within him. But they do want to try.

At the very least, they do want to inch them closer to where he's meant to be. ...

Lost in thought, they glance upwards towards him again.]

AYUMU: Do you feel broken, Chisaki-san?... [What a question. An intrusive, unwanted, ridiculous question. To think that someone like him could possibly be broken? What are they writing? What are they writing?! His expression turns strained. He hasn't been broken down and he hasn't lost, not yet. Sure, his research, his men, his quirk, his arms, all might have been taken from him but- but he'll get them back. He can fix this, definitely, definitely. It isn't over until he says it is. He's the boss, he's-

Somewhere in his noisy thoughts, he begins to tremble. The seeds of panic feel like they're sprouting, blossoming along the inside of his guts and up his throat, making it difficult to breathe. It is a sad state of affairs that he should find himself acting like a simpering child, but the feeling is not something he can stop - and believe him, he's tried to eradicate it.]

CHISAKI: N-no, I-

[Chisaki's breath quickens. He reaches up to grip his face but phantom hands cannot touch the living. His stomach pitches unpleasantly and he feels acid burn the back of his throat.]

CHISAKI: I- no, I don't feel-

[He drags in a shaky breath]

CHISAKI: I feel dirty. [They want to hold him. It almost hurts to have this glass seperating them, when he's already so harmless anyway, so that they could comfort him properly. No one deserves to be this lost, to drown in their thoughts in isolation like this.]

AYUMU: ...

[The next question is cruel, they know. Such a loaded phrase clearly carries a bloody history with it. But they can't keep from letting it fall from their mouths anyway.]

AYUMU: Why? [Asuka asks quietly.] Why would you feel dirty...? [Chisaki grits his teeth and looks up at them. His eyes sting. He wants to curl over himself as a form of protective comfort but his pride doesn't allow such a shameful action in front of this therapist.]

CHISAKI: Because there's filth everywhere. Always, can't- can't get to stay off. People don't see it, they don't see they're teeming with rot.

[The ever-present voice in the back of his mind tells him he's filthy, filthy and failing, disappointing, a worthless rotten little beast of a child-

With his chin jut out in a pointless attempt at defiance, Chisaki continues complaining. He ignores that he's started to cry.]

CHISAKI: I want a sh-shower! Or a bath. I want to get c-clean and no-one will let me!

[Such mundane, petty complaints. They're easier to address than the things stuffed deep inside, locked away, hidden.] AYUMU: ...

[Gently, Asuka eases down from their chair. They lower themselves to the floor, inching closer to the glass, placing a hand against it as they watch the tears drip down the broken man before them's cheeks. They take the sight in, wondering how rare it is, coveting it quietly like a precious jewel.]

AYUMU: Chisaki-san... I don't think you're filthy... [they murmur carefully, meaning every word.] I don't think you're rotten either. And I want to help you, okay? I want to help you...

[Their fingers move along the glass somewhat. If they could wipe his tears away, they would.]

AYUMU: I'll talk to someone for you. We can get you a shower, or a bath, whichever... okay? I'll help you feel clean again, okay? [Chisaki rubs his face against his shoulder to scrub some of the tears away. Silly signs of weakness, they fall unbidden, without his consent. He grinds his teeth, hissing through them as Asuka continues to talk.]

CHISAKI: Why the fuck would you do that? Why would someone like you want to help me?

[There's bitterness in his voice as he spits at the therapist. They don't care about his wants or comfort, why would they?]

CHISAKI: Th-this pathetic attempt to get on my good side...

[Chisaki laughs mirthlessly]

CHISAKI: I don't have a good side, I fucking hate you. All of you.

[He's getting more and more stressed, and the hives on his face spread. Without his realisation, the bandages covering his stumps start to shred.] [So focused on his expression and the way his hives grow to cover it, they almost don't notice at first.]

AYUMU: I don't care that you hate me, Chisaki... [they assure relentlessly, starting to speak over all the hateful words that leave him.] And if you wanted to hurt me, I wouldn't care either. Even if you tried to kill me, I'd still be trying to help you. Because I want to care for you! I want to do more for you than any of the people who turned you into this ever did. You don't have to be scared. It's okay... [They are insufferable. Their words are insufferable. Chisaki grinds his teeth so loudly he can hear the sound grating around his skull.]

CHISAKI: Scared...[How dare they? How fucking dare they?!] I'm not scared, you little idiot.

[Chisaki gets to his feet and skulks closer to them, eyes wide with anger.]

CHISAKI: Why do you people insist on pushing your care onto people who don't want it? I don't want your pathetic attempts at help. [If it weren't for the protective glass and the convenience of their quirk, they would have been alarmed by the way he suddenly surges forward. As it is, they only look at him with blinking eyes as Chisaki approaches.]

AYUMU: B-- because I--

[They stop short suddenly. Because, now that Chisaki's closer, they can see it. His arms are in view now and right before their eyes, the bandages are actually, literally tearing themselves to pieces. Panic and a violent sense of wonder suddenly seizes them.

Is his quirk evolving-!?

Oh, it's fascinating! It's perfect. This- this makes Overhaul viable! This means progress can happen!!

This also means Asuka could be in more danger than they'd already suspected.

Better handle this fast. Hoping the shock hasn't entered their expression, Asuka smiles to Chisaki in reassurance, holding up a hand in a calm show of surrender as the other slips into her pocket, finding a small remote with a button they press to alert the guards with. This session will have to end sooner than they'd hoped.]

AYUMU: Okay... Chisaki-san, it's okay. If you want to be done, we're done here, I won't say anything anymore. Please calm down... [Chisaki heaves in a breath as increasingly violent tremors run along the length of his spine. He's utterly furious and this stupid fucking bitch isn't listening to him. 'Calm down', like it's that easy. 'It's okay', like it's that goddamn simple to feel fine and dandy.

His eyes bulge in their sockets. Pops always said he had an awful temper.]

CHISAKI: We're not fucking done. I want to know why I'm being kept here. I want to know what the fuck all those experiments are for! I'm not your guinea pig!

[The irony is unfortunately lost on him.]

CHISAKI: Tell me!

[Chisaki is utterly seething as he approaches the glass, so distracted he barely notices the state of his bandages. Asuka remains calm, still muttering platitudes and 'calm down'. His jaw clenches tight and his face turns a violent shade of red as his anger boils over.]

CHISAKI: I will not calm down!

[He thwacks a stump against the glass without much though, hissing through his teeth at the nervous therapist on the other side. Without warning, the glass cracks. Spidery fractals splinter outward from the point where he rested the stump of his arm, not breaking it completely, but enough to cause a few pieces of glass to fall at his feet. Chisaki stumbles backwards, making a noise of alarm.]

CHISAKI: W-w- [The damage itself is small. But it's terrifying. Asuka scrambles further away from the glass, eyes wide, thoughts spinning, theorizing, trying to access the situation as quickly as they could. They watch Chisaki staggering back, realizing what they've done, and in an instant they're spinning around, facing one of the cameras staring their way.]

ASUKA: Security!!

[In an instant, the alarms blare with red light. The door bursts open. Guards pour into the room, lunging at Chisaki, bringing him down hard. Needles appear to jab deep into his skin, syringes full of suppressants, of tranquilizers, anything and everything to keep him down.

On the other side, a similar bustle appears as Asuka's own door is thrown open, security rushing to their aid. At their side in a moment, a guard looks at Asuka with a stern sympathy as they help them to their feet and immediately starts to guide them out.

As they do, Asuka spares one last, longing little glance over at Chisaki as he's gathered up into the guards' vice grips again. They hope he'll be okay. They hope the men aren't too harsh on him. And they hope, naively, that one day, maybe, Chisaki will learn to forgive them all for what's bound to happen next.]

#asuka.log

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