#the idea of having a real ass war general in a sports game with a bunch of teenagers is so funny

[litl-rat-dude]

hydrogen bomb vs 100 crying babies

#twisted wonderland #I HAVENT READ THE BEANS DAY THING IN LIKE ALMOST 3 YEARS #the idea of having a real ass war general in a sports game with a bunch of teenagers is so funny

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #387

“today i woke up, & i hate myself”

What common problem have you never experienced? The loss of a close family member (that doesn't include pets). Alternatively, what's an uncommon problem you have experienced? Homelessness. Do you know anyone who opposes marriage equality? I sure do. What was the last thing you got really emotional about? Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty premiering. What's the longest amount of time you've been ill for? I don't really know. I don't get sick a lot at all. Who is your closest male friend? Girt. Do you know anyone who hunts for meat? Sadly. I say "sadly" because it's not like they need it. Have you ever lived with a boyfriend/girlfriend? Yes, although I wasn't a technical resident. I was there all the time, though. What do you wash dishes with? Sponge, scrub brush, rag, something else? A sponge. Is there anything you prefer to do the old-fashioned way? There's probably something, but I can't think of anything. Do you put your glasses and mugs right side up or upside down on the cabinet shelf? Upside-down. What was the worst part of your childhood? My parents fighting. Have you ever seen a high school relationship last long-term? (like 10+yrs) Yeah. Do you know any cancer survivors? Quite a few. Leftover pizza for breakfast... yay or nay? Good shit, man. Do you personally know anyone who's a psychopath or sociopath? I don't think so. What is your most used kitchen appliance? Lately, it's been the apple slicer. I've been on a real apple slices + peanut butter kick lately. What is something that you would personally like to be remembered for? For being a caring person towards all living things. Have you ever been diagnosed as clinically depressed before? Yes. Do you like bowling? Yeah, it's fun. Do you own binoculars or nonoculars? What do you use them for? No. Do you ever wish you had a telescope on the roof or attic to stargaze? Yeah, that'd be cool. Have you ever had to deal with someone close to you going off to war? No, thankfully. Who do you feel you have the most in common with? Sara, easily. Who in your life causes you the most stress or negative feelings? My damn self lmao. Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? No. My parents didn't grow up in NC. What’s one thing that people definitely CAN’T count on you for? To remember like... anything. What about something they definitely can count on you for? Someone to listen to encourage them. What’s one food that you want to try but haven’t yet? I've always thought macaroons look good. Do you have anything planned for the summer? No. Do you walk fast or slow? Slow. Would you consider yourself an adrenaline junkie? No. What is a common slang word from where you live? Plural "you" does not exist. It's "y'all," lol. What’s the scariest thing you’ve accidentally found on the internet? *shrug* Probably something as a kid, going on those sketchy websites with loads of games and stuff. Thinking of every Halloween costume you’ve had, which one was the most creative? I don't think I've had any creative costumes for Halloween. What’s one random city you want to visit? It's not exactly "random" as it's a popular location, but anyway, I would love to visit Venice. What subjects do you or did you get the worst grades in? Math. When was the last time you ate cake and what type of cake was it? That's a good question, actually. Maybe my niece's birthday in February? I don't remember what kind of cake it was. Do you have photos to go with all of the contacts in your phone? No; I don't have any. Do you like snowy winter days or do you prefer rainy days? SNOWY! Name 3 things you find most beautiful in nature: Mountains, large waterfalls, and desert dunes in the wind. If you could ask one person one questions and get a completely honest answer who would it be and what would you ask? Jason. I'd ask if he thought I was emotionally abusive. What is your favorite winter activity? Building snowmen. Who is the greatest singer who is no longer living? Freddie Mercury. What is your idea of heaven? I don't know, really... I have to ask myself IS there a heaven in eternity? Living forever just... doesn't appeal to me. "Living" is an odd word to use there, but hopefully you get it. Existing on and on and on and on seems like it'd just be a drag, but at the same time I do like the thought of feeling relentlessly happy and peaceful with my loved ones. I guess that would be my definition of it, if it does exist. What’s one of the scariest things you’ve ever done? ODed. Have you ever watched the Superbowl all the way through? Just once, on my 16th birthday because I was at Jason's place and all of his family was watching it. I had absolutely zero interest, but we wanted to hang with the family. If you had to move to another country, where would you move? Canada. Do you watch American Horror Story? I haven't in years. It was Jason's and my first "show," and the first season was excellent. I lost interest in the second one, honestly. I'd be up for watching other seasons, though. How many relationships have you been in this year? None. What's your favorite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch. That's also the only cereal where I can happily drink the milk afterwards. Twitter or Facebook? Facebook. Do you like to paint your nails? No. What's the coolest place you've ever been to? Disney World, probably. Have you ever punched anyone? No. What's something you wish you knew how to do? Cook. :/ I really need to make an effort to learn. It'd be great to not rely on a microwave for the rest of my life. What's a celebrity that everyone likes but you don't? *shrug* What food do you eat the most? Probably bread in some form or another. That really needs to stop. Green or purple grapes? Either one, but they have to be firm. I cannooooooot with soft grapes. Have you ever cried over a text? Yeah. What's the background of your phone of? My lock screen is this pretty, simplistic periwinkle color with "work on you for you" written on it. It's one I plan on keeping for probably a long time because I connect to it so deeply with my stupid damn head frequently demanding I have to improve "for Jason" to prove him wrong. Which is a very unhealthy mindset to have, I know. My home screen is a cute lil Mark edit someone made with a very similar pale blue background, so my phone is just currently an #aesthetic. Do you have a Snapchat? No. What's your favorite sports team? (if you like sports)? I don't like sports, but I'm biased towards the Carolina Hurricanes hockey team because of my dad. Last thing you ate? I had Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast. Do you take a lot of selfies? Definitely not. I just hate how I look so much; it takes way too much effort for me to get an "acceptable" one. Do you prefer strawberries or cherries? Strawberries. I hate cherries. How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Maybe like, three. -_- Our A/C is still out, and it was like, 87 in the house last night. It was impossible to sleep. Do you listen to music daily? Not EVERY day, but usually. Biggest insecurity? My weight. Do you play video games? Not as much as I used to. I'd probably play way more if I actually had a PS4 + the games I'm DYING to have. Do you consider yourself lazy? "Yes, but a lot of it is also health related for my lack of energy and motivation." <<<< This for me as well. What recently made you laugh? I was watching a bit of The Nanny with Mom yesterday. We love that show. Do you like gummy bears? Yep. What was the last song you listened to? I'm randomly hooked on "My Nocturnal Serenade" by YOHIO. Like, I've known the song for a long time, but NOW I'm bingeing it???? Describe your mom with one word. Selfless. What's the biggest turn-off? Probably being misogynistic. But being a cocky ass is definitely high up there, too. What fish scares you the most? Mfkng whale sharks terrify me. How do you feel about snails? They're cuties!!! What's your favorite app? Pokemon GO. Would you rather time travel into the past or future? The future, to see what's coming. I feel like you could come back with some pretty valuable information. What is the saddest song you've ever heard? I think "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade has to come on top. What insect do you hate the most? I was reminded that stag beetles exist last night, and omfg those. Well, "hate" is the wrong word, really, I'm just terrified of them. Would you ever have a wild animal as a pet if possible? I 110% want to rescue an opossum, emphasis on "rescue." I'm not plucking one from the wild or anything like that. I would be in HEAVEN raising one of those angels. Are there any decorations that makes you happy? (lights, candles, plants..) I love those beds decorated with fairy lights, and just Christmas lights in general. Halloween and Christmas decor tend to give me sparks of happiness when I see 'em. Does race matter to you when it comes to dating? Not at all for me. When was the last time you painted something? Not since I was still in school and took a Painting course. When was the last time you really felt alive, and what were you doing? I have NO idea. What is one question you would like an answer to? Why the worst things tend to happen to good people. Name one favorite thing to do with kids while babysitting. I don't babysit, but if I was to be in charge of a kid, I'd love to teach them to play video games from my childhood. Playing Pokemon with my niece and nephew is always a blast, ahhhh. Name one flavor you like. Strawberry is pretty consistent. Name one thing you are hoping for. Venus' new terrarium soon... big sigh. I can't for the life of me find one that's a reasonable price and also adequately sized. I'm willing to put the rest of my cash into it, but Mom is helping, so I can't just buy the first one I see. Then I'd need more substrate, I seriously want a temperature gun and hygrometer, a cool hide, sticks and stuff for cover... It's going to be expensive, but I want Venus to have a truly proper environment she can thrive in. Write the name of one of your imaginary friends from when you were younger. Oddly enough, I can't remember the imaginary wolf that was my "friend." I say "oddly" because his whole idea was important to me as a weird-ass kid. Name one girl's name that starts with a "J" that you like. "Justine." Name one boy's name that starts with a "J" that you like. Maybe "Jaxson." Have you ever been kissed? Yeah. Have you ever feared that you would be killed? It's never been like, a fear I actively worry about. I just acknowledge it's always a possibility for anyone. What is the last great opportunity you missed? This was quite a while ago by now, but I'd say by dropping out of school, I really let photography opportunities slip since I became the newspaper photographer...

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''under the graveyard'' by ozzy osbourne

[platypanthewriter]

Yuletide Fic 5/5

Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five Read them as I post here, or all at once in Ao3 under peterqpan

What hadn’t occurred to Billy while planning for Santa was how long he and Steve would have to lie silently, waiting for the whispers around them to subside. The kids kept eating the Santa cookies, and then getting up to get more, and Will had the giggles about something. He kept wriggling out of the sleeping bags to put on more Christmas carols.

El kept sitting up at the slightest noise, staring suspiciously out the window, and Max wasn’t helping, all “What was that? Did you hear something?”

Jonathan’s shoulders shook suspiciously over on the couch, but at least he was quiet.

Steve didn’t let Billy throw anything at Max and El, and when Billy started to suggest knocking Dustin and Will out with blunt force trauma instead, Steve cupped his face with both hands, smiling at him in the light of the tree. They were scooted down far enough in the zipped-together sleeping bags that the edge shielded them from sight, their knees touching, and Billy let his eyes close as he leaned into Steve’s warm hands.

“Love you,” Billy whispered, almost inaudibly. “See, it’s romantic now.”

“It’s always romantic,” Steve whispered back, which Billy should have expected, honestly, from the man he’d had to flee earlier because he was professing his love loudly in the grocery store over Billy’s choice in mustard.

“Loser,” Billy sighed, squirming closer, and biting back a laugh at the feeling of Steve kissing his forehead, and his ears, and across his cheeks to his eyelids, and down his nose. Billy reached out and grabbed his boyfriend by the back of the neck, pulling him into a real kiss, but soft, so the kids couldn’t hear. “Merry goddamn Christmas,” he whispered, under the annoying, tinny tones of Marie and Donnie Osmond, apparently taped from the TV special. Steve snorted a laugh against his lips, and Billy could feel him grinning.

“Thanks,” Steve whispered, and Billy stroked his thumb over the base of Steve’s skull, and the shell of his ear, feeling the muscles move as he smiled.

“All I did was get out of your way,” Billy whispered. “But I get you tomorrow night, Harrington.”

“No, you—you did all this,” Steve whispered back. “I wouldn’t’ve thought of inviting the Byers. Or the tree. You invited Dustin.”

“Dustin invited himself,” Billy pointed out, and Steve nodded, squirming closer.

“You said it was okay,” he whispered. “I’d be...this’d be every other Christmas,” he laughed, a little catch in his voice, and pressed in for another kiss, murmuring against Billy’s lips, “Except for you. Love you. Babe. Billy Hargrove.”

“...I haven’t even killed you a reindeer yet,” Billy told him, his face so hot he could feel the blood pounding in his ears. “Jesus.”

“I love you anyway,” Steve whispered, kissing his face again. “I’m generous that way. Y’know. Even to losers who can’t even bring me a reindeer.”

Thank god, Billy thought, turning his head to kiss deeper, tasting frosting, and feeling Steve tremble against him, panting for breath. Thank god he shut up about loving me. Thank god he loves a loser who doesn’t bring him reindeer. He slid his hand up inside Steve’s shirt, under his sweater, and felt his breath hitch. Steve slid a socked foot over, hooking Billy’s leg by the ankle to sandwich their knees together, so their bodies were close enough to feel warm.

“Let’s sing carols,” Dustin said loudly, and Steve scrambled away, sat up in the zipped-together sleeping bags, and beaned him with a pillow he yanked off the couch, which had the fortunate side effect of dumping Jonathan Byers' ass on the floor. He yelled.

Billy should have expected the thankfully brief pillow fight, in which Will got the giggles so bad he fell over, Dustin took a three-pointer in the face from Max, and Jonathan Byers threw pillows at Steve, missing every time.

El smacked everyone indiscriminately, and Steve tried to be some kind of stealth ninja slithering around on sleeping bags while Billy called out plays like a sports announcer, but after they all flopped horizontal again, panting, the kid’s giggles finally petered off, and then there was silence.

It was time.

“How come I didn’t get a home run,” Steve whispered as they retrieved El’s bike from where Hopper’d slid it under the table, as Jonathan tiptoed off for the stockings.

“Didn’t hit the ceiling beam,” Billy whispered back, making it up as he went along. “Gotta hit the ceiling beam before it drops on somebody.”

“I should have got a penalty shot when they all ganged up on me,” Steve huffed, sitting out Dustin’s Commodore 64 games, and Will’s new markers. There was a photography book for Jonathan, and Billy waited until Steve wandered off to stick the two albums he’d bought him kinda behind it— Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, and The Police: Synchronicity. Steve used one of his dad’s ski boots to make an ash print by the stove, before helping Jonathan prop stockings up not-too-near the fireplace, so the chocolate inside wouldn’t melt by morning.

Max had new walkie-talkies too, and Billy sat them out with mixed feelings, wondering who the second one would go to—her mom?! He hailed Steve over to have him write a note, too—Dear Max, it said, I have given your step-brother Billy a little Christmas spirit, so he’ll drive you to get a skateboard repair kit.

“Why am I writing it,” Steve hissed.

“She knows my handwriting, dingus,” said Billy, knowing she didn’t believe in Santa, but also buying in, a little, to the illusion.

Steve looked at him for a long second, and then yanked him in for a kiss.

They’d barely climbed back in their sleeping bags when Billy heard bells, and thought really, Hopper? Fuck you. Really?!

El sprang up, stumbling sleepily over Dustin and Will to the window, and from their grunts and muttered expletives, possibly doing internal damage. “Bells,” El mumbled, squinting outside just as they all jumped at the loud thud, and scraping noise, and El turned to stare at Max and yell “It’s his sleigh! It’s his sleigh!” before peeling off to run out the back door to stare up at the sky as Max fixed a sleepy, but extremely suspicious, glower on Billy.

“The fuck was that,” she hissed, and Steve said “Santa!”

“Go away, Santa, too early,” Dustin mumbled, and Billy’s liking for the kid grew three sizes that moment.

“It’s not even two in the morning,” Steve whispered, laughing, and pointing to the digital clock on the VCR, but Mrs. Henderson, Joyce, and Susan all stumbled downstairs, shivering and blinking sleepily, followed by Hopper.

He hummed as he put the kettle on, rubbing his hands together as his kid froze outside like The Little Match Girl, looking for Santa in her pajamas, and Billy finally went to the door with Dustin and yelled “El! Get in here, you’ll freeze!”

She yelled something back, but it got lost in the arctic wind, until she ran back, shivering, and held out a half-eaten carrot like she’d found the Holy Grail. “They dropped this!” she whispered, and Billy dropped a blanket on her head, and walked away to stand by the fire as Dustin pulled her inside, and Will saw his Santa-given markers and yelled.

Steve came up and threw his arms around Billy, either out of joy, or the realization he needed to stop his boyfriend from murdering the sheriff.

The kids all milled around the tree, Dustin’s fingers actually twitching towards the games, but they all noticed the time, and stared warily at their parents—except El, who was wrapped up in a blanket in the arms of the main offender, her snowflake-patterned socks sticking out as she yelled something muffled about Santa.

“Guess we’re opening presents now!” said Joyce Byers, grinning as she watched Jonathan catch sight of the photography book, and Will sitting, cross legged in front of his markers, his eyes wide and fixed on their target. El found her bike and yelled, snatching the note, and Max frowned at the handwriting over her shoulder, then fixed a startled frown on Billy, who shrugged. Max's eyes narrowed as El ran to show Hopper the note, and Billy looked away, watching Dustin rub his face briskly and trundle over to sit under the tree.

Dustin passed his mom a package, grinning up at her, and she crouched to hug his head.

“You’re all insane,” Billy whispered, warming to the idea of Christmas, a bit, as El passed him more hot chocolate, even though Jonathan immediately ruined everything by putting the Rudolph Christmas special on the VCR.

“Euuuugh,” Billy groaned, leaning his head against Steve’s.

In the ensuing melee, Billy ducked around flung Star Wars toys, Legos, what looked like a camping tent, a Ghostbusters baseball cap, and a rainbow of hats and scarves from Mrs. Henderson, who’d apparently made some for everyone there.

“How’d you have time,” Joyce breathed, running her fingers over a pattern in brown and green, and Claudia Henderson shrugged.

“Dustin’s cousins never send thank you cards anyway,” she said, grinning and handing packages to Billy, Steve, and Hopper.

Billy squeezed his, blinking at her, and she patted his shoulder. If Claudia Henderson could brave the wrapping-paper explosion, so could he, he figured, so he edged around to grab Steve’s stocking, and handed it over. “I’m giving this to you on one knee,” he whispered, and Steve blinked at him, then stared down at the stocking.

Instead of pulling out orange after orange, as Billy’d anticipated, Steve dumped it over his lap in a shower of fruit and walnuts, and burst out laughing at the ring-pop Billy’d stuck in the bottom. He yanked the wrapper open and put it on his finger, admiring the huge cherry candy gem, and leaned to whisper “I do.”

Billy flushed and scrambled away to find his actual presents for his boyfriend, rather than watch Steve stare into his eyes, swirling his tongue around his ring-pop, his mouth already red from the food coloring. Billy scrambled half under the tree and yanked out the first aid kit, and the cold-weather kit with handwarmers and foil blankets, and passed them up to Steve, who looked startled unwrapping them, then fond.

“I’ll be ready for anything,” he said, and Billy snorted.

“Can you be ready for anything in Hawkins?” Billy shot back, and Steve beamed at him.

Billy’s Santa presents for Steve, the albums, had been snatched up by Will and Jonathan, he realized after crawling around. They surrendered them after arranging some copies in trade, and Billy handed them over to their proper recipient while Steve stared at the pile of presents growing around him, and agreed to give one of his new walkie-talkies to Dustin.

Which made sense, Billy thought, it wasn't like Billy even knew how to use the damn thing. He didn't even know if he lived close enough to Steve for the damn thing to work, and it was probably more important to Steve that the kids could find him when they found monsters.

Steve was wearing one of his new mittens on the hand without the ring-pop, and the matching burgundy scarf, and Billy sat and watched him as he opened the note from Joyce, inviting him for New Years, and grinned at her.

Billy forgot he was in the middle of the whole Christmas mess until Max punched him in the shoulder, and shoved the note Steve had written in front of his face. “This true?” she asked, scowling. “You’re gonna take me to buy a skate kit.”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging, and she stared.

“Santa is real,” she muttered, crawling back over to where El was trying on her new bike helmet.

Steve pushed his haul aside, pausing to blink at a wrapped package from Susan, and waved Billy over as he slowly ripped it open. Two packaged Hot Wheels cars spilled out into his lap—a BMW and a Camaro, and Steve looked delighted. "They're our cars," he whispered, grinning at Billy, his eyes sparkling in the lights from the tree as he ripped the cardboard off the backs, and touched their front bumpers gently together.

Billy shoved them down, hissing, "Don't make our cars kiss."

"But they're in love," Steve whispered back, bumping them together again, and Billy leaned his face in his hand and groaned.

He glanced over at Susan, sitting next to Max and El as El told his stepmom about things you could put in bike wheels to make noise. He couldn't picture Susan Hargrove going through the toy aisle, finding their cars, and he wondered for a wild moment if Max had, but that was even harder to picture. Steve kissed the cars bumpers together again, making a smoochy noise, and Billy elbowed him. He couldn't figure out what the cars had even been for—she wouldn't have given them to him—so the remaining option was Susan had shopped for Steve, intending the whole time to give him little toy cars in a mismatched pair.

Steve put both cars in his hand, their undercarriages pressed together, and rolled their tires together with a sly grin, and Billy smacked his hand again, reddening. “Okay, so,” Steve said finally, “—I didn’t know you’d want to come.”

“It’s fine,” Billy laughed, but Steve shook him gently by the shoulders.

“No, it’s not, but I gotta find you something better than what Bradley's Big Buy had, okay. All I got you was this—” he pushed a squishy package into Billy’s hands, and Billy ripped it open to find a soft sweater, clingier than the horse blanket Steve had pulled over his head earlier. “It’s the color of your—no, it’s not,” Steve said, squinting into his face, and Billy started snickering as Steve grabbed him by both arms and pushed him closer to the tree, then pulled him back, then walked him through the all the sprawled kids and around the other side. “There,” Steve said proudly. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

“I can’t see them,” Billy reminded him, grinning, and Steve stared at his mouth, licking his own lips, then groaned quietly in the back of his throat and stalked back to the couch, sucking on the ring-pop.

“Billy,” said Susan, holding out two rectangular department-store boxes with fancy bows, and Billy bit his lips together and sat down right where he was, lifting the lid on the top one. It was a button-down like he liked, the same brand he was wearing, in a deep oceany blue, and he bit his lips together, frowning into the box.

“Neil was busy, so I told him he didn't need to...supervise the shopping,” she said. “It should be the right size.”

Billy nodded, putting the lid back on, and opened the other, bigger box to see a wool coat, thick but tailored. He narrowed his eyes and put it on, and Steve whistled like a goddamn train. Billy ignored him, tugging at it and zipping up the front, and for once, dressed for the outdoors, didn’t feel like he was wearing an entire mattress tied to his chest. “...thanks,” he said, feeling his face heat, and avoiding looking up at her face by testing the size of the pockets.

“Don’t freeze to death,” Susan told him, sighing, and handed him his stocking. He pulled out Mr. T’s Candy Cups, and Nerds, and some oranges, and Starburst, and then felt something thick. He thought this better not be a fucking bag of coal, after she said she didn’t even think it was funny.

It was a pair of socks, warm and soft, and he considered them for a second before placing them in his lap, and reaching in to find a cassette of David Bowie’s Let’s Dance. He was just pulling out some Twix bars when Max dropped next to him, and he pulled his candy back towards him, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I got my own candy, dipshit,” she said, rolling her eyes, and fiddling with her new, shiny walkie-talkies. "The hat's warm."

Billy grimaced. "We'll get you the board repair kit."

"...he told you not to buy it, didn't he," she said heavily, and Billy winced, opening his mouth.

“Everybody done?” Joyce yelled, and Max opened her mouth and closed it again, gripping the walkie-talkie, but Joyce walked by and patted her shoulder, calling out, “Everybody done with presents? Okay! Go the hell to bed.” Max scuttled away to her sleeping bag, and Joyce prodded Hopper in the side, which he ignored. She cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting up at him. “Bedtime!”

“It’s morning,” Dustin said, snickering, but he covered a yawn, and Will walked over to his side of their shared sleeping bags, his arms filled with loot, and collapsed in a smiling pile.

“Fine, fine,” Hopper said, clapping his hands. “Everybody back to bed! G’night!”

Max opened her mouth, frowning at him, then sighed, and lurched tiredly to her feet, stumbling away. Steve came over and sat in her spot, throwing his arm around Billy, and sucking his ring-pop, and they sat and stared at the tree as the kids crawled back into their sleeping bags, Rudolph’s dad was terrible on the TV, and the adults all shuffled back upstairs.

“Love you,” Steve whispered.

“I heard those were invented to stop kids sucking their thumbs,” Billy whispered back, flicking Steve's hand with the ring-pop.

“It’s definitely been handy when I wanted to suck on things,” Steve said agreeably, and Billy choked, coughing, as Steve slurped away at his cherry ring-pop, looking smug.

Billy woke the next day alone in the sleeping bag, and tender where he’d rolled on his belt, and where the seams of his jeans had sanded his legs. He groaned into the soft blue-green sweater he was using as a pillow, and smelled food .

Nancy’d shown up, he found out, when he sat up like a groundhog blinking at the sun. She was on the couch with Jonathan, flipping through a different photo book in black and white. They both blinked at Billy, and then waved silently, and he waved back, looking around for Steve, and hoping Steve’s ex and her new beau didn’t try to include Billy in their conversation.

Steve was running back and forth from the kitchen, carrying plates and wearing an intent grin, and Billy watched him for a few minutes before clambering out of the sleeping bag. The others were rolled up, he noticed, and tried to zip his apart. He caught the ties in the zipper, somehow, and was trying to figure out whether he could just roll them together when Will dropped to sit next to him, eager to leverage his sleeping-bag-taming knowledge for copies of all Billy’s music.

Billy considered, aware of Nancy and Jonathan trying not to watch him repeatedly lose his battle with a squishy inanimate object, and finally agreed. “You figure this shit out and I’ll copy you the new Def Leppard,” he whispered, and Will hugged him, which was just—weird, so he waited until it was over, and walked away, trying to fix his hair by feel.

Lucas and Max showed up that afternoon, Mike was there, Billy registered vaguely, giving all the appropriate compliments to El about her bike, and Billy dozed on Steve’s shoulder in a turkey coma and let the Christmas carols float over him.

Just after he thought they’d left again, the floor pounded as Max stalked up to him and slapped the new walkie-talkie in his hand. “Everybody else has one,” she said, glaring at it, turning on her heel, and stalking off. Billy stared after her, wondering whether she honestly couldn't find someone to give it to. He'd seen Lucas', and it was twice the size.

“Ooo, I have one!” Steve said excitedly. “We can talk when you can’t get to the phone!”

Billy glanced up at him, and back down, imagining being able to call Steve when his door was padlocked from the outside, and bit his lips together. He nodded, and cleared his throat. “I, uh, yeah. I’ll...get some batteries.”

“I’ve got some,” Steve said, squirming away, then dropping beside him again to hand over an eight-pack of Energizers. “Dustin gave me some for mine.”

“...might use this thing a lot,” Billy said warningly, flicking the buttons, and Steve laughed.

“Good, I don’t wanna feel needy.”

Before everyone left, Billy got hugs from Joyce and Mrs. Henderson—he couldn’t think of her as Claudia, not when she was wearing an apron and reminded him so much of Mrs. Claus—a companionable shoulder-squeeze from Hopper, and a tense smile from Susan. El asked whether they could come back next year, explaining how Santa got lost sometimes without woodstoves, and Steve nodded seriously, agreeing to everything she said.

Jonathan shook Billy's hand like an awkward nerd, while Will tried to convince them to hang out and listen to music together, until El started questioning them all about music, and Hopper drug her away. As Jonathan, Will, El, and Hopper stumbled off in a hand-holding chain like Billy's paper-doll garland, Billy felt a tap on the shoulder, and turned to see Joyce Byers again.

"Jonathan and Will showed me the car," she said. "It looks really nice."

"They vacuumed it," Steve said, laughing and waving his hands, and Billy rolled his eyes.

"Steve fixed it so your battery will charge right, and changed your oil," he reported, and Steve laughed, grinning, then went wide-eyed as Joyce hugged them both around the necks, yanking them down even though she stood on her tiptoes.

"Thanks so much, you two," she said, sounding a little choked. "You're such good kids. You're such good kids."

Steve made a weird noise in his throat, and Billy's eyes skipped the stinging and went straight to blurry with tears, so he pulled away, clearing his throat, and made a show of lighting a cigarette.

"A-anytime," Steve said, laughing a little unnaturally. He folded his arms, unfolded them, and bit his lips, and Joyce squeezed his shoulder.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, and he nodded.

Billy threw an arm around him as Joyce walked away. Dustin glanced between Billy and Steve and saluted, laughing and shaking his head, and Nancy waved again from the car window. Steve waved back.

“We look like the parents in a Christmas special,” Billy said, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Steve, and waving at departing cars. "Like a sitcom." Steve snorted a laugh, wiping his eyes.

After they’d all gone, Billy leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room, watching Steve pick up a couple pieces of wrapping paper, and sigh. He sat under the tree, holding a piece of Mrs. Henderson’s ugliest wrapping paper, covered in brown and orange angels that looked like a hollow-eyed Strawberry Shortcake. Steve stretched it flat, and bit his lips together, before crumpling it, his shoulders a little bowed.

“...you don’t think Chriatmas is over, do you?” Billy asked, wandering closer.

“What?” Steve laughed, his eyes lowered. “I mean, it’s still the 25th. I guess. Christmas until midnight.”

“Yeah, that too,” Billy agreed, coming up behind him to reach around with both arms and take the sad crumpled Christmas paper away. He tossed it behind the tree, and Steve snorted a laugh, leaning back into his arms. “But we haven’t even gotten our best present yet,” he whispered, letting his breath tickle Steve’s ear, so he shivered. “This is the part I’ve been waiting for.” Steve opened his mouth, shrugging, and Billy yanked him around so they were nose to nose. “I got the biggest present under the tree,” Billy hissed, “—and I’ve been so patient, don’t you dare tell me Christmas is over now.”

Steve grinned at him, wide and delighted, and Billy squished his face with both hands, making his grin kissable.

Having had plenty of time to plan, Billy grabbed one of the sleeping bags, unrolled it, and tossed it under the tree, towards the fire. Steve pulled him over for a deeper kiss this time, soft and exploratory, as though he didn’t know every hitch of Billy’s breath, and the way he trembled when Steve bit gently at his lower lip, and let it pull through his teeth. “Jesus god of reindeer,” Billy whispered muzzily, and Steve burst out laughing.

“What,” he said. “What?”

“You,” Billy said hoarsely, and cleared his throat, trying to remember his script. “You wanna put on, like, your Christmas songs. Or—or movies. Or something.”

“...you wanna fuck me to Rudolph?” Steve asked, looking a little weirded out, and Billy gritted his teeth, and committed, for the sake of love.

“You want your Christmas shit playing when you get presents, right.”

“...jesus,” Steve whispered, head cocked like Billy was crazy, but beaming all the same. “Uh.” He flushed, biting his lips as he narrowed his eyes at the TV and VCR, and then the tape player. “Uh, just music, maybe.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about Rudolph,” Billy grimaced, imagining the little reindeer’s nasal tones, and the nitwit misfit song. “I mean, if you want to, but I’m gonna...good thing I already know how fucking weird you are—”

“I didn’t come up with—with this Rudolph sex orgy idea,” Steve hissed back, poking him in the chest.

Billy shrugged, rubbing it. “I really don’t know what’s weirder about that than listening to, like, The Carpenters, or John Denver and the Muppets,” he said, waiting while Steve blew the dust off the record player, and frowned between The Jackson 5 Christmas Album and A Partridge Family Christmas Card. “Or those,” Billy said, making a face at little Michael Jackson, and sitting on the sleeping bag, waiting while his dick strained against the inside of his jeans.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Steve muttered, crouching down to put on A Partridge Family with pink cheeks, and Billy waited until the speakers crackled and Mr. Partridge started singing to grab Steve around the waist.

Billy pulled his boyfriend's butt half into his lap, where he could slide his hands up Steve’s sides, lifting his sweater and shirt, and kissing the skin between his shoulder blades. Steve laughed, and leaned his head back against Billy’s shoulder for a kiss. Billy gave him one—then two—then stared at Steve’s startled grin, and sighed, brushing their lips together as the magnetic pull hauled him back in, and Steve gave a muffled laugh and a contented noise deep in his throat, closing his eyes. He tasted sweet, like the cookies he’d been eating, even sweeter than usual, and Billy groaned and shoved Steve forward again in order to push his sweater and shirt up over his shoulders, white from winter, and scattered with birthmarks. Billy kissed a few of them.

“Better keep me warm,” Steve whispered, curling up in his arms, and Billy pulled him in as tight as he could, burying his probably goofy-looking grin in Steve’s hair.

“Oh, I’ll warm you up,” he whispered, and Steve snickered, relaxed against him as Billy slid his hands around Steve's waist, and down to undo his boyfriend’s jeans. Steve groaned, shivering as Billy pulled his cock out—it was already satisfyingly hard in his hand, and Billy rubbed the edge of his thumb across it, so Steve grunted and squirmed in his lap. “...guess the Partridge Family really does it for you,” Billy whispered.

“Shut your face,” Steve mumbled, panting. “You do it for me, we could be—we could be listening to like. Bird calls, I don’t give a fuck—”

“You saying Tweety Bird gets your motor running,” Billy whispered back, and Steve elbowed him, mostly hitting sweater.

“Fuck you,” he hissed, his hips jerking so his dick bumped against Billy’s thumb again, into his hand, and Billy squeezed it, the wetness letting his thumb slide easily over the tip. “Oh jesus,” Steve whispered. “God…”

“Lay down,” Billy said, biting his shoulder gently, and Steve arched against him, groaning. “Come on, your majesty, I’m not even done unwrapping you yet.”

“...nerd,” Steve snorted, panting, but he let himself be pressed back onto the sleeping bag, his cock sliding against Billy’s hand as Billy held him down, gently, by the lower belly, tugging his jeans off. Steve bent his legs up to let Billy yank the legs off without having to move, and Billy laughed as he tugged Steve’s socks off, and tossed them away. Steve grinned up at him, his face lit by the lights on the tree, making him look a little starry.

“There,” Billy said, rubbing his free hand up Steve’s thigh. He leaned in to kiss his boyfriend’s naked dick, and Steve yelped, moaning in the back of his throat.

“What—about you,” he grunted, his voice a little rough. “You gonna raw me in your jeans?”

He sounded hungry at the thought, and Billy filed that away for later. “Nah,” he whispered, swinging a leg over so he was sitting across his boyfriend’s thighs. “Thought I’d make you watch me, for a bit,” he said, sliding two fingers in his mouth, and sucking on them.

Steve muttered “Oh, shit,” and propped himself up on his elbows.

“Now you got me in this damn...Mr. Rogers sweater,” Billy said, keeping his voice low as he drug his fingers down it, Steve’s gaze fixed on them as his dick leaked.

“Don’t talk about Mr. Rogers, gross,” he whispered, and Billy grinned, swinging his hips a little from side to side so Steve's naked thighs could feel the warmth of his ass through jeans. “Jesus,” Steve muttered, clenching his fists as Billy slid both hands around his own waist just under the edge of the sweater, lifting them up underneath against his sides, and Steve laughed a little unevenly, his eyes widening.

Billy lifted the sweater a little more, running his fingers lightly over his abs, and then his pecs as they flexed with his arms up in the damn sweater, and Steve swallowed visibly. Billy pulled the sweater off his shoulders and head, shaking his hair back, and flexed his arms as he pulled the sweater sleeves off.

Steve threw his head back laughing. “Love you,” he said, always picking the weirdest times.

“We’re boning to the Partridge Family,” Billy hissed, instantly irritated. “If this fuckery isn’t love I don’t know what is.”

“I know,” Steve said, his smile soft even as his cock dripped on his belly. “Thanks for boning me to the Partridge Family.”

“Shut the hell up, I’m stripping,” Billy growled, and Steve started laughing again, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, and Billy swore and leaned in to kiss him, flattening him to the ground, and wiping the wetness away from his boyfriend’s eyes with his knuckles. “The fuck is wrong with you,” he muttered, and Steve snickered, sniffling. “You want me to hurry up?”

“No,” Steve laughed, swallowing a suspicious gulping sound, and Billy frowned harder. “I just like this,” Steve whispered, laughing, his eyes welling up again. “I like this Christmas.”

“Are you gonna do this every year?” Billy asked in horror, imagining his boyfriend crying through sex while puppets wailed in the background, and Steve laughed harder, wiping his face.

“You saying you’re gonna bone me under the tree every year?” he asked, and Billy felt his face heat. Steve grinned, reaching up to tuck Billy’s curls out of his face, behind his ear. “In sickness and in health?”

“Why are you so weird,” Billy groaned, rocking his hips, so Steve grunted, closing his eyes. “Yes. Yeah. Next year we’ll fuck to Frosty, can I get back to stripping now?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, sniffling. “I love you. Yeah.”

“Christ,” Billy muttered, wiping his boyfriend’s eyes and cheeks again, his own eyes stinging a little—probably with embarrassment, he thought, fairly sure he was gonna get a half-chub every time he heard the Partridge Family playing, for the rest of his life.

Steve was still hard, at least—which was more disconcerting than anything—so Billy sighed, and rolled his hips again, as a reset. Every time he did, his fly brushed the bottom of Steve’s dick, and he groaned, rocking his head back against the sleeping bag. He was starting to sweat, and the light of the tree made him glisten.

“Look at me,” Billy told him, and Steve folded his arms behind his head to see. Billy ran his fingers up his new blue shirt—cupping his sides like his hands were Steve’s, and then running his hands up along the buttons to undo the first one.

“Never seen you with your shirt all the way on before,” Steve whispered, his eyes fond, and Billy snorted.

“Can’t let up on the advertising campaign,” he said. “Gotta show you the goods.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve reached down to squeeze Billy’s thigh through his jeans. Billy undid another button, parting the fabric over his collarbones, and running his hands down his neck, and Steve leaned his head on one shoulder, smiling up. “I’m not gonna...forget, jesus,” he whispered. “Never gonna forget what you look like, babe.”

Billy grabbed the sweater and leaned in to lift Steve’s head into a kiss, tucking the sweater behind it as a pillow.

“God,” Steve whispered against his mouth, running his hands over Billy’s half-unbuttoned shirt.

Billy sat back upright again, while Steve groaned and grabbed at his shirt as he pulled away. Billy undid another button, letting his nails scrape along his skin as he scooped his pendant into his mouth, swaying his hips. He slid his fingers down over the remaining buttons to brush over the edge of his belt, raising his eyebrows at Steve, who laughed, panting.

“Yeah, I’m watching, loverboy.” Steve leaned back on one elbow, smiling smugly, and Billy watched the low golden light on his boyfriend’s face and hair.

Billy ran his fingers over his fly, and down in his pants, tugging his shirt tails out one by one, and swayed his hips in a slow figure-eight as Steve bucked a little under him, grinning.

“Gonna be New Years by the time you’re done, jesus,” Steve said, his gaze riveted to Billy’s hands.

“Can’t keep it up, there, pretty boy?” Billy asked, arching his back as he undid the lowest button, and then parted his shirt like a curtain and undid the one above it to show his taut belly and the trail of hair leading into his jeans.

“Not the problem,” Steve said through gritted teeth, the fingers on his free hand digging into Billy’s thighs.

Billy stopped, looking down to unbutton his cuff and roll it up a couple of times, humming carelessly as Steve squirmed under him, smacking his leg.

“Hurry up, you bastard,” he demanded, and Billy smiled, unbuttoning the other cuff.

“You gonna ask nicely?” he asked, and Steve laughed, shifting under him with a grimace. “You’re leaking like a hose connection with a bad washer.”

“Shut up,” Steve hissed. “Like you aren’t making me.”

“Maybe I should stop,” Billy said, stretching so his shirt lifted.

“Please, please, you dickhead,” Steve broke. “My legs are fucking going to sleep, and my dick’s gonna explode—”

“Thought you loved me,” Billy said, licking his lips, and leaning in so his stomach brushed Steve’s dick. Steve yelped, groaning, and bucking up into the friction. “Isn’t that what you were saying earlier? King Steve, the chosen one?”

“Love you a lot more if you let me touch,” Steve growled, laughing. As Billy sat up, Steve reached out and yanked at his belt, and Billy laughed, smacking Steve’s hand away.

“Thought you didn’t want Christmas to be over,” Billy whispered, and Steve laughed harder, his cock dripping across his stomach.

“Yeah,” he admitted, leaning back with a shaky breath. “Yeah, I don’t. Never want this to be over.” His knuckles went white as his fingers tightened on Billy’s swaying thighs.

The Partridge Family switched to Winter Wonderland, and Billy’s side was warmed by the fire. He knew the light of it gilded his hair and skin as he flexed his bare forearms, sliding a finger under the leather strap of his belt as Steve groaned.

Billy flicked it out of the belt loops, tugging it off the tongue of the buckle and slowly drawing it loose over his fly. Steve twitched under him, swallowing back a noise as Billy’s jeans brushed his cock. “You want me to fuck you?” Billy asked, undoing the buttons of his jeans one-by-one so Steve could see he was going commando, and pressing his thumb and forefinger together in a tight circle over his own dick, so Steve’s bounced untouched on his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed, looking him over, and Billy grinned.

“Want me to do all the work,” Billy whispered, swaying his hips with the music, “—so all you have to do is lie there?”

“Anything,” Steve said. “Love you, jesus.”

Billy’s hand stuttered, and he leaned forward again, bracing himself over Steve’s chest. “Tell me,” he said. “You want me to ride you? What?”

“I want everything,” Steve said, his eyes wide and soft, and then he grinned. “I mean, we got so many leftovers to get through. Whatever we don’t do now—”

“How can you be such a romantic and such a shithead,” Billy muttered, reaching down to squeeze his boyfriend’s hand.

“Fuck me just like that,” Steve said. “Your party jeans and that shirt. You look like—you’re a wet dream, jesus.” Billy grinned, cocking his head and licking his lips, and Steve laughed shakily. “Yeah, come on, asshole,” he whispered. “Billy.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, scrounging around in the back of the TV cabinet where he’d hidden the lube, and pulling the condom out of his back pocket. He squirted some lube in his hand, and pushed Steve’s legs up to slide his hand between them, watching him squirm against the cold.

“Warm it up, dickhead,” Steve muttered, grabbing his wrist, but as soon as Billy started sliding his fingers up and down, Steve relaxed, going boneless with one leg bent up, the other sprawled to the side. His eyes went half-lidded as he grinned up in the starry rainbow lights.

Billy watched him pant in the light of the Christmas tree, and smiled, holding Steve’s hips flat to the floor with one hand, and bending to slip his mouth over his boyfriend’s cock.

“Jesus christ,” Steve grunted, shifting under Billy’s hands, and Billy hummed along with the song, knowing he could probably shove on in, but taking it slow, swirling his tongue around Steve’s dick as his fingers worked. He rubbed over the edge of Steve’s hole, over and over, until he was squirming, red-cheeked, and biting his lips together, and he finally said “Jesus, fuck me, god—”

Billy lifted his mouth off Steve’s cock with a pop. “His majesty’s getting impatient,” he said, and Steve yelled “Yes, I fucking am.” Billy laughed, leaning his head against Steve’s knee, and then kissed it, before crawling up to kiss Steve’s mouth.

“Fuck you,” Steve muttered, panting, his skin gleaming with sweat in the light of the tree. “God…” he whispered against Billy’s mouth, whining softly, and Billy grabbed the sweater and shoved it under Steve’s back, pushing his legs up so Billy could push slowly in.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, and Steve started snickering, grunting as Billy’s weight pushed the air from his lungs, but pulling him in for a kiss, bent nearly double.

“God, you feel good,” Steve grunted, as Billy narrowed his eyes, checking his boyfriend’s sprawled limbs for tension before thrusting his hips. “God, yes,” Steve moaned, kissing hazily at anything of Billy's he could reach.

It wasn’t so bad, Billy decided, boning Steve Harrington under the Christmas tree, and watching the Christmas lights reflect off his eyes. Even the music wasn’t too awful—he mostly tuned it out—until Billy went too hard, rustling the nearest branch of the tree as Steve writhed beneath him, and a popcorn ball smacked right between his shoulders and bounced off Steve’s knee, and they both had to stop while they laughed themselves breathless.

“Let’s do this every year,” Steve whispered into his shoulder once they’d finished, sweaty and smiling, and Billy snorted a laugh, pulling him closer.

“...yeah, okay,” he whispered back, running his hand around his boyfriend’s ass where it was still a little sticky, and considering Round Two. “You’re worth it.”

“Good,” Steve laughed, squirming closer. “You’re worth it too. This. Anything.”

“...love you too,” Billy whispered, hugging him close.

#harringrove #Finally the pornz #Found family #Boyfriend cookies #platypan FINISHED FIC

[unordinary-analysis]

This might be a super dark question, but if beating up Low-Tiers is so acceptable in unORDINARY's world/society, then are more severe crimes performed by High-Tiers excused as well? (Rape, Armed-Robbery, ETC.) so long as a Low-Tier/Cripple is the victim? (Or does the law step in at that point regardless of the Attacker's rank?......). Sorry if this is somehow an problematic topic, It's just been a question that's been eating at me ever sense I read the story and got to start analyzing it! ^^

Sorry its like months late lol

But this prompt is actually an interesting one. In the UnOdinary world, the limits of what is acceptable by society and what is not is difficult to comprehend purely based on the complete difference in natures of the UnO universe and our own. Because people have abilities in the UnOrdinary world, laws and government obviously have to be amended to include limitations and restrictions regarding these items, which leaves us readers to wonder exactly what those rules are.

So far, we havent outright gotten a layout of what is socially acceptable or legally acceptable for our UnOrdinary characters, but we’ve gotten many hints or references. I think I can piece together what the laws regarding tier, ability, and power are.

I want to first address what can be understood and easily comprehended from even the most limited look into UnOrdinary: the obvious bias and favor of those with power. The whole premise for the UnOrdinary hierarchy and societal structure is that those with power are on top. They’re the ones running the game. Those with power are in charge. They make the rules. At least in day to day matters. For instance, we have no idea if politicians and world leaders have to be the most powerful, but at schools and remember that bomb lady from the mall from the beginning of the comic?? That kind of stuff. And also likely government too, don’t count that out.

Obviously, if someone with lot of power (ability-wise) is in charge, the rules, or maybe a better word is expectations, are going to be somehow biased upon that. Maybe not all, but total fairness is completely impossible to expect. A rule in the UnOrdinary universe that demonstrates this bias is that those with more power are expected to repeatedly establish themselves as dominant over anyone below them in the hierarchy. I’m not actually sure if this rule is the best example of hierarchical bias because I mean it isn’t some far fetched idea. it makes sense for this to be implemented into the UnOrdinary universe, not only from high-tiers, because establishing hierarchy reaffirms who should lead, it exposes the strongest. It prevents situations like Wellston students under Rei’s reign (I struggled with wording that :/). But for that very reason, it could also fit under a power bias so yeah.

So basically, there’s this definite bias towards those with power, even if everyone agrees that that’s the way it should be. Is that still a bias? I’m not sure. note: Rei is an outlier here, and, to be honest, almost everywhere. It’s natural for people to look to those more powerful for leadership and guidance.

Anyway. Those with power are encouraged to show it by publicly defeating those weaker than them. That’s probably the easiest thing to understand if you’ve read the story. Hell, the main sport in the UnOrdinary world is trying to defeat someone in combat (Which I’m actually getting more and more intrigued by... is this sport just something in schools? Is there a professional league? Is there any Olympics? Then the winner would just be the most powerful person in the world, right? Anyway. That’s off topic for this post lol).

Something that I’ve noticed, though, is that the higher tiers don’t always act like they think what they’re doing is right. Let me explain. In episode 2, John approaches Gavin, a kid who is bullying someone that obviously has a lower ability than he does. Because of UnOrdinary’s structure, by the rules of the universe, if what I’ve said previously is correct, Gavin shouldn’t feel like what he is doing is wrong. He should just think what he is doing is regular and actually encouraged. However, after John approaches him and tells him to back off of the other boy, Gavin asks: “Trying to play hero, huh?”

Now, personally, that threw me off. The use of the word hero by Gavin in reference to John completely contradicts what core knowledge I thought we’d establishished already (excuse my dramatic ass lol). If high-tiers are allowed to prey on anybody weaker then themselves, why would Gavin use the word hero, indirectly calling himself a villain, during the scene. If what he is doing is acceptable in UnOrdinary society, why would he be the villain?

Obviously: it means that what Gavin was doing was not acceptable by common social standards. I think this means that there is some sort of line between what is allowed and what is not. Maybe to what extent showing dominance is tolerated. Because there is a line. But so far, I’ve gotten nowhere. This is where the question started, where I started.

I do think, however, that this example I’ve brought up is a very good demonstration of the answer we’re trying to find, even though it comes from the very first chapters, maybe from a period where uru-Chan had not yet decided the laws of the world she’d created. There’s also loads of other examples of the hierarchy forming through domination (after note: not sure what this means lol i forgot what i was trying to say but it looks cool so I’ll keep it kjdbsfksjb) such as when Arlo lured John out into that clearing, or when The mid-tiers captured Seraphina. There’s a lot more, but I’m not about to list every single example lol. Also, however, there is a lot of evidence of authorities or other people stepping in to break apart fights or stop someone from getting beaten up. Darren did this for John before in the scene where his nightmare power was first introduced to us. Darren also stopped Blyke and Isen from fighting at the very beginning, when Blyke broke Isen’s pen.

But I haven’t found any scene that disagrees with that initial Gavin scene, so I’m going to be using that for my main evidence even though by looking at all of the examples for everything I’ve used above, whenever someone fought someone else, it was students, and whenever tried to break it up, it was a teacher or an authority. I’ve decided to rule out the possibility that as a general rule students aren’t supposed to be harming each other because of pure base knowledge about the UnOrdinary world. There’s too much evidence to cite and put in here. I- I don’t think I have to, honestly. if you’re this far down in the post, it’s like a fact that you’ve read the comic and understand enough about it to know what I’m talking about. More likely, battles between two people are okay, as long as it is established that it is a fight for a place in hierarchy. In episode 125, when John, as Tuesday, approaches Isen looking pretty, well, pretty scary, Isen waves him off and says, “I don’t have time for a rank-match right now.” A rank-match. The word implies that a fight would be one purely for the purpose of seeing who is stronger, seeing who outranks the other. This is what I believe the acceptable form of fighting in the UnOrdinary world. As long as the battle is clearly to establish authority, it’s okay. We see this in Turf Wars, and even when Arlo first becomes king and absolutely annihilates everyone. Then, Arlo was just trying to prove his dominance over them, showing them that they had to listen to him because they were not above him. The excessive amounts of bullying and assault behind closed doors obviously evolved as a bit of a bad side effect of the concept.

The bullying concept is one I’m saying is similar to the situation in our world. The real world lol. It’s not allowed. But it’s everywhere and most students have accepted it. You know how some of the high-tiers shrug it off whenever they see something happening to a low-tier? It’s because it’s expected. The accepted societal rule that higher-tiers are meant to establish their ranks by fighting their way up the chain feeds as the core idea for higher-tiers shitting on lower-tiers, so it’s not like bullying is some random thing happening, it has, like i said, evolved from that basic fact of the UnO universe.

So: bullying is not allowed, but is common (like our own world)

And,

Basically: fighting is only acceptable (by everyone) when the fight establishes rank.

More specific to your question, however, is other crimes such as rape and robbery as done by high-tiers to lower-tiers. There are little to no examples of such things happening in the UnOrdinary universe that we’ve been shown so it’s a very good question and yet a very difficult topic to discuss. I did not spend all this time talking about limits that high-tiers can go to when opposing lower-tiers for no reason, though.

Because of what I’ve already said, I think it’s pretty safe to rule out the possibility that it is legal to rob or rape in any circumstance, if even some fighting is off limits. Y’all, if teachers step in sometimes when someone was getting bullied, do you think that if they knew someone was being raped, they would shrug and accept it? No.

There are already examples of people stepping into situations that aren’t allowed. A better example of this, though, is when the superhero posse, a.k.a. Remi, Blyke, and Isen, a.k.a. I’m pretty sure I have another name for them that is like detective themed but I can’t remember it right now, yeah them, when they go to the mall that one time and the whole incident with the ability gauge happens. The cops bust them for setting of a smoke bomb (later cleared, but that’s what they thought at the time.) I would also bring up Levani, and how John stepped up to her, but that was basically just the whole bullying thing I explained earlier, just on a bigger scale. And we all know that John has been kind of an outlier when it comes to accepting bullying like the rest of the student community has.

So, I believe I’ve answered this question well. I know my answer might be a bit basic and obvious but the other answer isn’t exactly one people would like to see, is it? Lol. Anyway, feel free to put your opinion on this too. Debunk me, please that would be fun lol.

As an extra thought to this post as a whole: the whole suspicious situation with the authorities doesn’t really interfere with this, I just want to clear this up. There’s been this background plot going on, we all know, and one of the factors is that it is likely that the authorities keep the hierarchy and enforce it so that the high-tiers will stay under their control. Either the hierarchy a. Distracts high-tiers by giving them responsibility (Remi, episode 50) or b. Gives them power so that they don’t fight for it. Maybe both. Probably both. Anyway, I already said that we don’t know exactly the situation with governmental positions and politicians, or those head authorities (or whoever’s on top of that). But this post doesn’t really rely on why the hierarchy exists as much as the fact that it does.

#webtoon #unordinary #unordinary webtoon #uruchan #uru-chan #line webtoon #webcomic #unordinary analysis #official

[mara-tevith-solo]

Real Funny - part 2

Something I’ve been slow cooking for a few years, a little all over the place. Some plot pieces aren’t mine, just something I played with.

Trigger Warning; Contains swearing, violence, mentions of nudity

I grinned cheekily before we all left. When we got back, the war was minutes from starting up again. When we finally got the Separatists off of the planet, we were allowed to rejoin the rest of the fleet and I was allowed to walk around in something other than armor. "Isn't that against regs?" That all too welcomed voice practically purred as they finally made their presence known. 

I sat up from the crate I was laying on, smiling broadly "General Kenobi allows me a few freedoms." I retorted, looking up at Wolffe. His expression was particularly warm that evening. 

Without any warning, the particularly sarcastic clone pounced, collecting me into his arms and capturing my lips with his as though they were prisoners of war "Do you have any idea how hard it is to be so close to you and act like you're just another soldier?" He growled against my lips in our secluded little spot.

"I have an idea." I purred in response, smiling coyly "So, your place or mine, Commander?" I asked with a low, seductive tone as I looked up at him through my lashes. We both already knew the answer; as a Commander, he had his own quarters. I still shared a bunk bed with Waxer in the main sleeping area for visiting legions. He left our little spot first, and I followed a few minutes after, taking a longer way around to get to his quarters. As soon as the door closed behind me, he lips were on mine again, his hands holding me against his body tightly. We helped each other out of our clothes and laid in his bed, more interested in each other's company, than sex.

As usual, I woke up before everyone else and was out of the room and hid in the mess, sipping caf until everyone else was moderately awake "Missed ya last night." Hardcase yawned, plonking his tray down before joining it.

"Couldn't sleep." I gave him a tight lipped smile before turning back to my caf. I hated lying to my friends and brothers. But if it leaked that Wolffe and I were... it would end very badly for everyone. He gave me an understanding pat on the shoulder, thinking that my nightmares were acting up again. I mentally beat the crap out of myself for keeping a most trusted vod in the dark.

"Anyone up for Nega-ball?" Cody asked, Wolffe and Rex on either side of him. Three quarters of those in the mess stood up and made to follow the three commanding officers, Hardcase included as he tried to pull me up. When that didn't work, he threw me over his shoulder and made his way after the group.

"Caught a live one, didn't ya?" Fives laughed, slapping my thigh as Hardcase fell into step beside him.

My squeak caught the attention of a certain, maybe slightly overprotective, Commander "What are you doing to Sergeant Val?" Wolffe scowled, coming up from behind the two. He was very much not pleased with how the two were conducting themselves with me.

Hardcase couldn't put me down fast enough as he whirled around, blushing and saluting hurriedly "S-sorry sir, we were only fooling around." His scowl deepened into a glare and he had to put his hands behind his back because, bet you ten credits, he was clenching them into fists.

"It's alright Commander, they're on my 'top three most trusted' list. They didn't mean anything besides camaraderie." I stepped up, approaching him to show that I really was alright while essentially telling him that they were my best friends, topped only by him. I felt the two staring at me, wide eyed, as the Commander deflated a fraction and his expression softened. 

"Get to the gym." Was his parting order before he moved around us and down the abandoned hallway. 

"Dude!" Hardcase exclaimed when the commander had turned the corner, the three of us following at a slower pace.

"How did you talk him out of handing us our asses?" Fives finished, staring at me as though I had grown a third head.

"The Commander and I are friends. He and Master Plo were the first ones to find me and bring me to the Temple. Why do you think I have a grey Loth-wolf on my shoulder?" I tapped my shoulder piece to reinforce my point as they started freaking out, having never made the connection.

"So you're an honorary Wolfpack member?" Fives gushed as Hardcase practically jumped on my back and made me give him a piggyback ride. Bastard. 

"I think the more appropriate answer is that I was adopted by Master Plo as one of his many children." I groaned, my knees shaking with every step. I dropped him unceremoniously with the other troopers as Cody and Wolffe were picking teams. 

"Val, get over here!" Cody called, waving me over as I tried to retreat to a safe spot to sit.

"Nah, I think I'll sit out. Both Kix and Wark look like they'll fill me full of needles if I joined in." I laughed, warily watching the two glaring medics who had had to patch me up last time we had all played Nega-ball. 

He glanced at them, equally as wary "Sounds like a good plan." He nodded, clearing his throat as they resumed picking. "So what's the wager?" Cody asked, hands on his hips as he faced Wolffe and his team.

"Winning Commander gets Val to tag along next mission." Alright, so I was a bit of a floater. Sue me.

"No can do sadly, Skywalker already reserved her for the 501st's next mission." Cody frowned. Wolffe scowled and couldn't resist looking at me from the corner of his eye. "How about this, next time we get leave, winning team gets a day with her." Oh if Cody only knew. They shook on it as all of them stripped off their torso armor and Wolffe's team took off their blacks shirts. I blushed at the sight of Wolffe's barrel chested glory, several small white scars dotting his waist and arms. He knew I blushed at the sight of him, he puffed up almost as soon as I did. The game was certainly as hairy and brutal as usual. Sometimes it was like the clones just kind of disregarded sport safety rules.

Of course, we never went back to Coruscant, instead, moving cruisers so that we could have a better spread in our attack of Umbara. Of course, the Umbarans changed over to the Seppies after their Senator had mysteriously been assassinated.... most likely by the Separatists... but that's just my opinion. The Republic was outmatched, out classed, and out teched, but by Odin, we were going to fight the good fight. It wasn't until the surface of the dark planet that I realized just how much my warnings had gone over the heads of the Council. Krell swooped in and took over command of the 501st, saying that the Chancellor needed Skywalker for some benign reason. 

First thing I did as soon as I saw Krell exit his gunship was hide behind Fives and have a panic attack, bucket removed as I pressed my forehead against his back, mumbling numbers in as many languages I knew, as high as I could go and back. He just stood there, one hand squeezing the one that he had pried from trying to scratch at the chinks in my armor. "Stand in attention, in my presence trooper!" Krell barked in my general direction. Fives stiffened as I quickly put my bucket back on and stepped out from behind him.

"S-sorry sir." I stuttered, still trying to regain total control over myself. I knew exactly what that motherfucker was going to do, and my attempt to stop it, had been brushed aside. 

"What's your number, Trooper." His eyes narrowed as his lower set of arms folded behind his back and his upper set crossed over his chest. He moved so that he was behind me, ignoring the others as they tried to close ranks around me as subtly as possible. 

"Sergeant Val, sir." I couldn't let him know that he bothered me, that he was getting so far under my skin that I was shaking. My head was full of nothing but white noise.

"Are you such a deformed clone, that not only your height and voice are wrong? I asked for your number, Clone." He snarled, stepping closer. I was filled with sudden, blinding rage as he went on a racist rant "You can't even put your armor on correctly!" He spat. 

My resolve rocketed out the window at that last comment as I whirled around, taking off my helmet and getting closer to the vulgar behemoth "I am a woman, General! Are you satisfied?" I snapped, feeling Fives frantically hook onto my belt and attempt to pull me back closer to himself and Rex. But I was planted, I would not back down, willingly or not. "My name is Sergeant Valeri MacCloud, I am from a planet called Earth and I am twenty six years old. I asked, are you satisfied, sir?" I barked, using my best drill sergeant voice as I glared up at the rogue Jedi, daring him to court marshal me, or worse, kill me. 

#general krell #commander wollfe #oc #arc trooper fives #hardcase #kix #Commander Wollfe x OC

[vivienncs]

❧ make sure you KISS your fist before you PUNCH me in the face ❧

❝  Forgiveness is a war between the head and the heart and my body is a battleground. This is how it ends. I'm built of speed but nobody ever taught me how to back down. I wouldn't know how to outrun a war. ❞

BRIANNE TJU? No, that’s actually VIVIENNE ‘VIV’ CHANG from the NEXT GENERATION ERA. You know, the child of CHO CHANG and NICO TEJA? Only 21 years old, this GRYFFINDOR alumni works as an INDEPENDENT CURSEBREAKER and is sided with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. SHE identifies as a CIS WOMAN and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be CRITICAL, ABRASIVE, and UNFORGIVING but also DAUNTLESS, UNSTOPPABLE, and QUICK-WITTED. — &&. ( JANE, NZT, SHE/HER, 22. )

hellooooo this is jane

viv’s pinterest is here!!! ( she also has a smaller section HERE in my general quantum leap board ) 

viv is mostly a chaotic competitive

this is the girl who decided to try in her classes bc some asshole annoyed her and she decided the appropriate response was to beat him at everything he loves so

anyway it worked out! she found the academic half of her nerdjock truth and ended up taking way too many fucking newts and owls

her history of magic project in sixth year was about how the founders are fake/fables (the real people still existed probs but certainly the names and traits make more sense as fables and anyway surnames didn’t exist like that at the time and she has a lot of points and i bet someone tells her it’s a dumb idea so she devotes herself to it as her history of magic project) so get ready for her to tell u about that if she remotely values ur academic opinions/thoughts

tiny™

like 4��11″

maybe she’s hit 5′0″ now that she’s twenty one (good grief) but chances are no... also wouldn’t make a difference anyway —- she’d be an inch closer to some people and still over a foot shorter than her bf

she was a chaser for gryffindor from a young age, and until she was in sixth year, she’d really intended on playing professionally and had been involved in the sport from her youth, playing in younger leagues and being part of professional youth teams during her hogwarts years. it’s something she’s still v passionate about, but what it really comes down to is that when she was having her academic careers meeting in fifth year, she realised: there were other things she equally wanted to do with her life. before that moment, it had never really been framed that way, like there was anything else she cared enough about to do for the rest of her life, that there was anything else she was good enough to do, but after that meeting and during the months following, she really came to understand that while her notable speed and physicality would always be things she connected to, she truly loved history and academia, and the theory of magic (as well as the practical execution of curses / unravelling them), and something about combining those aspects with her determined and dauntless spirit set her on track for cursebreaking (independently —- we aren’t here for destroying magics of antiquity and other cultures for capitalism n banks y’all)

don’t fuck w her gals 

will break ur nose and not apologise

will help lily bury a body if need be

cho is younger child of weisheng chang, who was brother to jia chang, mother to marlene mckinnon —- marlene and cho were cousins, except marls died when cho was a baby, rip (jia was younger and had her children when she was young, whereas weisheng had them later in life, and cho was his younger child). seeing as jia’s estrangement from their family was due to their parents and weisheng had no beef with her, they reconnected properly a few years before the mckinnons died (except now marlene is alive again, adult!cho’s popped out of existence, and viv’s now got a teenage mother who doesn’t know her and also her mother’s dead war hero of a cousin. it’s a Time™ aight)

in fourth, year she once paid the quidditch commentator a galleon to call al “prefect potter” during an entire game and her defence to her mother was “listen he likes it and anyway it’s re-establishing his authority and reminding all the youths which one he is, as if they could forget a walking mountain”

(she does call him prefect potter)

v ride or die

loves dogs and magical creatures, hates birds and cats

just…. she’s tiny but believe she will fling herself at u if need be

an aries!! god no wonder she’s so competitive

SUUUUUPER into types of magic and magical knowledge like girl took way too many owls just bc she’s so fascinated in the nature of magic and how it can be used and magic from other cultures bc of how magical linguistics work and it definitely fed into her becoming a cursebreaker

v loyal friend but also highkey has excellent side eye for when ur being a dumbass

loves sugar quills and chaos

tends to take her time on some issues bc logically she sees pros and cons from both sides but when she makes an Emotional Decision™ on it, she’ll stand by it. until then, it’s mostly deliberating from a logical standpoint, which is prone to change with new info (things like joining the order tho are like… in her opinion, there’s nothing to debate with that?? like, that was the obvious right choice, it’s not something less clear cut)

dropped herbology and astronomy so fuckin quick after fifth year —- she liked neville a lot, but herbology is just not her cup of tea

stans viktor krum so fuckin hard

she has wanted connections that i will Think About More And Post but i have to send my ass to sleep asap

[ parental death tw ] her mum raised her by herself at first and then reconnected with her dad but he died when viv was about ten [ end parental death tw ]

scottish (always lived in glasgow area)

“swearing in a scottish accent is patriotic, minerva”

recalcitrant, reckless, harsh, impatient, unforgiving, highly critical, abrasive, sharp-tongued, blunt, not... super comforting

but also: loyal, ferocious, tough, determined, dauntless, quick-witted, unflinching, clever, dedicated, wry, perceptive, protective

currently dating al potter, timeline tbd (but recent-ish), lives w lily potter

travelled a bit/was in and out of the uk during her training but is Firmly Back Now other than any work trip she may have

re: time clash —- oof. ooooof. ok. well, not thrilled that her mother has, for all intents and purposes, disappeared. she realises that the cho currently around is literally her mother, but also she very much isn’t, and it’s a weird situation. trying to be there for her though, and also marlene & other mckinnons who have popped up, though from what she’s heard abt the mckinnon side of marlene’s family, she’s not super inclined to be welcoming (touched on in marls’ bio, but seeing as that’s only linked in discord bc her intro is still drafted for now, tl;dr is that the mckinnon grandparents were racist, mostly in the like... ‘i voted for obama!! how can i be racist, even w all these microaggressions??’ sorta way, though there were a few more Explicit Incidents). still, having her family around is weird, but it’s far, far from the worst of it all.

really interested in the actual logistics of the timeclash and is someone who is thinking abt the logical progressions that can occur from here, but also —- in line w being unforgiving, she’s... in theory, she does agree with the idea that you can’t punish someone for something they haven’t done yet. but she looks at people like theodore nott & peter pettigrew & that just burns away, and all the theory and thoughts go out the fucking window and she wants to step on them and grind them to dust with her heel.

character parallels: holly short (artemis fowl), maya hart (gmw), elizabeth swann (potc), zoë nightshade (pjo), leia organa (star wars), thalia grace (pjo), kat stratford (10 things i hate about you), patty (she’s out of my league), xena (xena warrior princess), paris geller (gilmore girls), isabelle lightwood (the shadowhunter chronicles), hands holloway (accepted), drainpipe edwards (vinyl 2012), james rhodes (marvel), and apparently fuckin’ legolas greenleaf lmfaaaaaaao [ many of these r from charactour so... watch me add some as actual ones come to mind, probably ]

#quantum intro #i feel like i'm missing things but?? i want one intro up at least dfgjldjal #it was gonna be marlene's but i'll try finish hers after work tomorrow #maybe ronan's too but his is like... a fucking Lot #emotionally speaking #parental death tw

[nogoodmox]

since it’s late n u guys have been so encouraging

i wanna preface this by saying....im not a Writer and this is pretty much the first wrestling-related thing i’ve ever written. also this was written at 3 am yesterday so pls keep that in mind ALSO it’s not very. romantic bc 1.) im not good with that stuff and 2.) it’s kinda covering the early stages of their relationship so they’re barely even friends yet! (this takes place right before war games!)

that being said thanks for being so nice abt it guys ur all the sweetest and i love u and i’m sorry this isn’t Better but constructive criticism would be appreciated! mwah!

Pete tapped his fist against his jaw in a needless effort to hype himself up.

The guaranteed brutality of his upcoming match didn’t faze him—brutality was his specialty, after all— but despite that, he couldn’t shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

Maybe it was the thought of having to rely on others for his victory, or maybe it was the thought of them relying on him. Neither were things that he was exactly used to.

He wondered, when the time came, if he would put himself in harm’s way for the sake of the others.

Pete thought of the last time he had relied on someone. It was ironic in a way, how the same person he had tentatively began to trust would be one of his opponents tonight.

He had never really thought of Roderick as a friend, just a sort of unavoidable ally. His eagerness had been irritating as was his general disposition, but Pete had chosen to put his trust in him. A choice he’d come to regret.

He liked to believe that the betrayal had made him all the more dangerous now. Not only could he use his desire for vengeance to his advantage, he’d also be sure not to make a mistake like that again.

Pete had operated just fine on his own for as long as he could remember. There were a select few times where he’d tried opening up, and each time he paid for it. It took a few experiences for the lesson to be drilled into his brain, but at least now there was no way he could forget it.

He should stick with what he knew best, and what he knew best was solitude.

Keep interactions short and bitter. You look out for one person, and that person is yourself. Everyone else is simply an obstacle or dead weight.

It was a philosophy he lived by, and one he truly believed in. There just happened to be times where he’d let it slip and thought maybe, just maybe, someone could be an exception. But they never were.

A steady knock on the locker room door disrupted his thoughts. A faint feeling of pain registered in Pete’s jaw as he realized he’d been tapping his fist against it this whole time. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Ricochet’s head popped in.

“You got a minute?”

Pete didn’t answer, he just raised an eyebrow when he noticed something in Ricochet’s hands. It looked like a tube of toothpaste.

Ricochet followed his gaze and held up the object, wiggling it in his hand. “Oh, this? Yeah, it’s kinda why I’m here, actually.” He walked up to Pete and held it out to him. Pete read the label, which only confused him more.

“White….face paint?”

The other man adjusted his North American Championship on his shoulder. “Yeah. Y’know, war paint for tonight. It was Hanson and Rowe’s idea. They figured we should at least look like a cohesive unit.”

“What’s the point of that?” Pete deadpanned. “Face paint won’t get us a win against Undisputed Era.”

Ricochet looked at a loss for a second, then sighed. “C’mon man. It’s to pump you up, get you excited to kick some ass. Plus it’ll look cool, yeah?”

Pete wasn’t very convinced, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He did admittedly like the idea of amping up the intimidation factor, not that he was going to tell Ricochet that. “Fine. Might as well fool people into thinking we’re a real team.”

“S’that supposed to mean? We’re a real team. Cole and his cronies are gonna see just how real we are tonight.” Ricochet declared, giving Pete a few taps on the chest.

Pete stiffened at the contact and glared at the highflier. Ricochet was someone who currently fell under the obstacle category in Pete’s eyes. He hadn’t forgotten the match where both their titles had been on the line. They never received closure, and Pete intended to change that next time they crossed paths in the ring.

He’d prefer for Ricochet to stay an obstacle rather than become dead weight.

“I’ve said it before, you’re just a guy carrying a piece of gold that I want. As for the other two, they’ve already got each other. We may be on the same side, but we’re not a team.”

The grin on Ricochet’s face weakened a bit. “Man do you like, practice this stuff in a mirror before you talk to anyone?” He chuckled at his own joke—was it a joke? The weight of Pete’s words didn’t seem to mean much to him, however, as he quickly bounced back. “Anyway, face paint, yes or no?”

“Sure.” Pete said.

“Great.” Ricochet tossed the tube of paint to Pete. “Doll me up.”

Pete barely caught the tube in time. He whipped his head up to face Ricochet, trying to make sure he had heard him correctly. “What?”

Ricochet had placed his title on the bench next to him and met Pete’s gaze expectantly. “What? I can’t put it on myself. There’s no mirror in here.”

“Then find one.”

“No can do.” He almost looked smug, as if he had planned this. “Bathroom’s closed for repairs, apparently Kyle and Bobby thought it’d be fun to flush Sullivan’s gear down the toilet. He caught ‘em in the act.” Ricochet let out a whistle. “It wasn’t pretty.”

Pete didn’t want to hear any more. For whatever reason, Ricochet was intent on sporting war paint, he might as well indulge him. After tonight, he could set his sights on what really mattered.

“Alright. C’mere.” Pete placed his championship on the bench opposite of Ricochet’s and squeezed some paint onto his fingers.

He lifted his hand only to pause suddenly, leaving it hovering in front of Ricochet’s face. “What’s their paint look like anyways?”

Ricochet thought for a moment. “It’s like…a V shape on each cheek.” He explained, tracing the motion over Pete’s cheeks with his finger. “Simple enough.”

“Right.” Pete grunted, doing everything he could to ignore the way his face had heated up. He pressed his fingers to Ricochet’s face and began painting the design, trying his best to keep his hand steady.

Pete came to a halt when Ricochet started giggling quietly. He gave him a strange look, pulling his hand away.

The other man took a moment to compose himself, then cleared his throat. “Tickles.” Came the simple explanation. Pete rolled his eyes and continued with his work, retracing the lines to smooth out the jagged edges.

He paused again to add more paint to his fingers, avoiding Ricochet’s gaze. Pete could feel the man looking at him and unconsciously tossed his head a bit to let his hair cover his face.

As Pete started on the other cheek, he noticed Ricochet hadn’t stopped staring at him at him, almost amusingly.

“What?” Pete finally asked, with a hint of challenge.

Ricochet seemed unbothered. “You’re just a lot more careful than I thought you’d be” He said, a little quieter than usual. It was unclear if the remark was meant to be teasing. It seemed sincere enough, but even if it was Pete wasn’t sure what the implications were.

Pete said nothing and averted his eyes again, finishing with a final swipe. “There.” He muttered. “All done.”

“Great! I’ll just have to trust that it looks good.” Ricochet reached up to touch his freshly painted face, then decided against it. “Alright, your turn!”

Pete froze, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He wasn’t particularly keen on anyone paying close attention to his face.

It was bumpy and weird; he knew this. Acne scars and uneven stubble were just the beginning of it. It was something he’d learned to accept, but he wasn’t exactly dying for others to get a good look at it.

Regardless, he knew Ricochet wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he had, Pete wouldn’t have just spent the past few minutes spreading paint on his face in uncomfortable silence.

Ricochet took the paint tube from Pete’s hands. “You mind uh…” He made a hair flip motion. “Getting that out of the way?”

Pete looked down at his hands, covered in white paint, and decided to go with option two. He swung his head to the side—a little too forcefully—and flipped the blond mess back. He was satisfied for a moment before it came toppling back down in his face.

It was times like this where he seriously reconsidered growing out his hair.

“I gotchu.” Ricochet intervened, looking even more amused than before. He tucked Pete’s hair behind his ear to keep it from coming loose again. “Sure got a lot of hair homeboy.” He commented.

“Guess you can’t relate.” Pete replied bluntly.  

Ricochet laughed out loud at that, almost too eager to make fun of himself. “Guess not.” He emptied what was left of the paint into his hand and got to work. Pete winced at the cold feeling, trying not to pull away. “But you know,” Ricochet continued. “The lack of hair could be the secret to my speed.”

Pete wasn’t fully sure if he was joking. “I reckon that’s why you got pieces missing in your eyebrows too?”

The highflier laughed again, this time not as loud, but a huge smile graced his face. “Man, you’re alright.”

Ricochet spread the paint on Pete’s cheeks with ease, moving just as smoothly as he did in the ring. Pete fought with everything he had to try not to break out into a fit of laughter. Ricochet was right, the feeling made him ticklish. His lip curved upward in a smile that he quickly pushed away.

“All set.” Ricochet finally announced, looking proud of his work. Pete didn’t doubt that the man had probably done a better job than him. “Now we look like a force to be reckoned with.”

Pete held couldn’t help but soften his expression a bit. He felt cool, and far more relaxed than earlier. Once again, he wasn’t going to tell Ricochet that, but he appreciated the feeling. “If painting faces keeps you from screwing up tonight, then so be it.” He replied with a shrug.

Ricochet shook his head, and if Pete didn’t know any better he’d say he was annoyed. “You never quit do you? Y’know we can do this whole rivalry thing without all the little remarks, yeah?”

“Cause make no mistake,” Ricochet’s tone grew serious. “I’m just as focused on that title of yours as you are on mine.”

The sudden change surprised Pete, but it didn’t faze him. After all, this was why he kept up his guard so high. He knew behind every person there was a set of intentions, and each interaction with him was a means of achieving them.

“I’m well aware.” Pete said evenly. “S’why I’m not buying this partner ruse. We’re not friends, and we never will be.”

Ricochet paused for a moment. “Just ‘cause you’re a future opponent, doesn’t mean we can’t be on the same page now. It’s no ruse, I’ve got your back tonight. I mean that.”

“Better to have your own back first.”

Ricochet lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking unsure of where to go from there.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” He said finally, leaning down to grab his North American championship. When he came back up, he was smiling again. “But I’m willing to prove where my loyalties lie out there. There’s no hiding in the ring.”

Pete eyed him for a moment, then nodded briskly. “That’s one thing we can agree on.”

“I’ve got another. We both wanna beat the hell out of those undisputed assholes, right?” Ricochet offered. “That snake Roddy’s gonna be out there tonight. If you ask me, you should focus on giving him the ass whopping he’s had coming instead of making enemies out of your partners.”

An odd silence followed his words. Pete didn’t know how to respond, and Ricochet’s intense gaze wasn’t making it any easier. In his heart Pete knew he had a point.

He was more than willing to take on all four members of the Undisputed Era himself, but he knew realistically he wouldn’t come out victorious. He needed Ricochet and the War Raiders whether he liked it or not.

Just one night couldn’t be so bad, right? Even if it involved putting his faith in other people. Ricochet had nothing to gain from betraying him. Hanson and Rowe, he wasn’t so sure, but considering how fixated they had been on the Undisputed Era for the past several weeks, it was unlikely.

Ricochet saved Pete from having to muster up an answer by reaching over and picking up his United Kingdom Championship. Pete’s eyes widened and he tensed up, ready to snatch it out of his hands.

There was no need to, however, as Ricochet placed it snugly on Pete’s shoulder.

He gave it a few pats, admiring the intricate design on the belt for several moments.

Ricochet took a few steps back, his own title sitting around his waist. “You look good.” He said finally. “Let’s do work tonight, mate.”

Pete’s partner tossed the now empty paint tube in his hand once, then turned to saunter off.

“Not your mate.” Pete replied in a half-hearted protest. He couldn’t see Ricochet’s face as he left the room, but Pete knew he was smiling.

“By the way, the bathroom’s perfectly fine. Just figured we could use a team bonding exercise.”

#heh #there u go #like i said not very romantic #but idk ihope u enjoy! thanks for being so nice guys <3333333 #mine #ig #writing for wrestlers like pete or dean is really really hard #cuz i love them so much im afraid im gonna mess them up

[thesportssoundoff]

Everybody is winning except us

Joey

October 7th

Of all of the ways this could've gone, I'm really surprised I didn't figure this would be the EXACT way it would go.

You can't predict Khabib going feet first into a melee outnumbered like 5 to 1, you can't predict Conor McGregor having a "Greedo shot first" moment by actually throwing the first punch (although in his defense, as he scales the cage, someone else is scaling it and I would've assumed anybody from Khabib's corner is going to be after me or my team at that point), you can't predict riots or a full on culture/nationalistic war.

You can always predict chaos in MMA. You can always predict the WORST CASE SCENARIO in this sport.

If you think of all the positive aspects from just the fight alone, you could be here for a while. Conor McGregor took two years off of MMA, came back to fight the scariest dude and had an actually not half bad performance given the stylistic match up, the rust factor and his natural shortcomings as a fighter (quick twitch high reflex muscle memory guy with poor cardio). If anything he could have/should have been applauded for taking the risk and we'd all be asking how a run back goes with an additional six-ish months of training. For Khabib, he once again answered another litany of questions and for the most part aced the toughest test of his career. For the UFC, they put on a tremendous fight card without a hitch, made massive money and set themselves up for another run of successful fights for both guys including a rematch. Everything could've been positive.

But this is MMA. The Worst Case Scenario more often than not will rear its ugly head at the most inopportune time. There's no point in step by stepping anybody through the brawl. What's done is done, what happened happened and everybody and anybody has their opinions on it. We all gain nothing from replaying it over and over. It's more about how we leave this entire fiasco with perceived egg on the faces of everyone involved.

I feel like we have to begin with Khabib Nurmagomedov because at the end of the day, he's the guy here who took this entire joke to the next level. You can't go and fight dudes at the cageside area. That's basic common sense stuff. The problem is that this isn't the first time Khabib has been involved in utter tripe before and maybe this is just who he is. To me, nobody has had their public perception hurt the way he has over the past few weeks from the homeless guy push ups to the presser comments to the open work out fiasco. If "gotten to" is a deal then Khabib epitomized it this entire weekend. Even his brief press conference was a trainwreck as he went from contrition for his behavior to wondering why it was a big deal and dare I even say, attempting the tried and true Whataboutisms that ultimately lead down a road to nowhere. It takes great skill to talk for a minute and reveal you still don't quite get why you're going to be a in a world of trouble.

Now if you believe in the receipt then Conor McGregor's been way overdue for one. This is an act that's spiraled out of control since his KO of Jose Aldo (and perhaps maybe even a bit before that happened) with an eventual "Oh Shit" coming at some point. You don't continually win in shit situations of your own making before something eventually backfires on you (unless you're Jon Jones) and Conor's last two years have exposed the very worst of the act. The Andre Fili/Artem Lobov situation, the Bellator incident, bar fights, speeding tickets of a dangerous sort, the ENTIRE Mayweather-McGregor fight lead up, the bus incident and the presser that was basically a collection of "Too far!" material in an already "Too far!" situation. Conor's gone for it on 4th down a lot recently and every situation he's either scored or gotten a penalty bail out from the bad decision. Eventually those do catch up with you and here we are now. Again, the erosion of SBG; it's image as a gym full of average dudes accomplishing great MMA shit evolving into the world's biggest collection of fake McGregor's has to be mentioned. What do you do when King Midas' left hand turns everything to gold but his right hand turns everything to shit?

Of course we can also bundle up everybody else into one neat and tidy paragraph here; the UFC for being a business first and not a common sense machine second. The bus attack was part of the story in my opinion and couldn't be neglected BUT somebody with a hint of common sense should've said "tone it down" to Conor and Khabib about religion, this that or the other thing. Instead they played it fast and loose, like they did/do with DC vs Jones, without realizing that Jones vs Cormier was a really personal rivalry about two people who for the most part kept it at two people. Hell taking it one step further, we can say that the UFC should've told Conor to tone it down in 2016 or 2017 or 2018. This is what happens when a fighter gains power and becomes TOO big to say to no to. You get this. Conor should've been told "No!" faaaar sooner than this. How about SBG and Khabib's cohorts who seemed to want to interject their asses into this as much as the two fighters themselves. We can also turn a sarcastic thumbs up to the majority of the MMA media; the ones who bloviated "Conor's back!" as he poured out his presser best but not once stopped to ask if maybe this whole religion/nationalism/family feud was going a bit too far. The same ones who refer to last night as a disgrace (which it was) without stopping once along the way to ask if we were heading into this situation by virtue of nobody wondering if this was spiraling. The ones who are SO reliant on MMA (and ergo the UFC and ergo Conor) to do well that they, like the UFC, allowed anything to go in the pursuit of the traffic. Lastly and perhaps most painfully? Us as fans. When the things that sell are always the worst, the bar is always raised. As consumers we have the ability to dictate what we receive and if what works is the dirt worst? Well that's on us, no? If we ascribe to the "We fight in a cage, nothing is bad for the sport" mantra then we wear this. We may not have asked for THIS specifically but that's neither here nor there because we've asked fore more of the bad shit. We ASKED for this.

And ya know the sick part? Everybody wins here really if you think about it. Assuming Khabib isn't suspended for life and incapable of getting back into the United States? He'll have a Conor McGregor rivalry for years to live off of. The same goes for Conor who has mastered the "losing the fights where you have an out" approach. Vs Nate? Well that was on two weeks notice at 170 lbs! Vs Floyd? First fight in boxing! This one? Two year layoff vs the world's greatest wrestler! Once Dana White gets over his personal shame and disappointment? The business man is going to make him realize that he'll have general wealth for every generation he's ever going to have with a Khabib vs Conor rematch. The folks decrying this as shameful will playfully bite their nails and play the "Who knows what's gonna happen!" gimmick at every presser, every face off and every single day leading up to the rematch. Those who shout about how "passionate" these fanbases are will continue to do so while also saying "they're not ALL like that!" when confronted with every social media clip of fans brawling and fighting outside the venue. Even Dillon Danis, a less self aware Robert Drysdale who fashions himself as a bootleg Conor McGregor, has basically made himself into a household name now. Everybody wins because so long as consumers want it? Business ALWAYS wins. That's the nature of the game. It's MMA at its dirt worst and there's perhaps no other place MMA shines then when it's at their dirt worst. Be it boxing or MMA, business booms at the dirt worst level. This is seemingly where the sport actually wakes up and decides to perform.

There are basically just two losers here really. The first is the lightweight division which sure looks like it's careening towards yet another stripped champion. And potentially yet another interim champion. And potentially  yet another year of question or determining just what the hell is going with the most loaded weight class in sports with fighters stuck on a broken elevator that's going neither up nor down. We have the most blessed division in the history of this weird sport and right now we have a champion who's about to be suspended, a former champ who is probably going to chase "money fights" now and the real champion who seems one poorly timed stunt away from ripping everything on the lower half of his body. The world's most talented division is about to get its dick buried in the dirt again for no reason other than the guys at the top of the helm can't control themselves. The other loser? Those of us who cling to the hope that one day this sport won't be like this. At the end of the day, we need to stop assuming MMA's going to one day grow up and just resign ourselves to the knowledge that it is what it is. For those of us who believe this thing is going to clean itself up? Probably not happening. The idea that one day in the not too distant future fights will be able to sell on the basis of being great fights and we won't need to squeeze every bit of juice out of it by resorting to the dirt worst (be it DC referring to Jon Jones as a junkie, anything Colby Covington does or the latent ethnocentrism used to sell this feud) should be dead now. As much as we all want MMA to treat itself like a sport, what the people want---and seemingly what EVERYONE involved in this sport wants---is this. We built this sport on it and now we gotta own it. All sports have brawls/fracases but they're not the drawing point to drawing people in. We WANT this. We OWN this.

If you don't believe me, wait until Covington vs Woodley to confirm it all over again. Prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

#MMA #UFC #UFC 229

[italicwatches]

My Hero Academia, season 2 - Episode 15

So the car’s dying again. Such seems to be its lot in life. Anyways, it’s My Hero Academia, episode 15! Here we GO!

-Opening!

-Episode 15: Roaring Sports Festival

-So we get a super condensed version of the stuff from last time, right up to where we left off. And Deku really processing the idea of what this sports festival is going to mean. And a very brief form of the tournament format; basically all the first-years get mashed together into one big pool that’ll round-robin their way to the top.

-Also Deku is already having an anxiety mess. I know that all too well. And No Might has to pull him out of it, though time will tell if Deku can get his game face on…

-Later that day, after everyone’s next class…They find the doorway out of the classroom totally impossible to pass because of the massive crowd here. Katsuki tries to put on his mean face, but that leads to this one purple-haired guy coming through the crowd…Who reveals that those in the support or general-studies sections have one final lifeline. They can get transferred into the Hero course if they do well enough at the sports festival, and take someone’s place…This isn’t coming to scout out the enemy, this is a declaration of war.

-And there’s other more traditionally hot-blooded types. And Katsuki continues to be an asshole to everyone and doesn’t care about how many people hate him if they hate him from below. He’s a fuckin’ stubborn ass.

-But it also gets Deku realizing that he’s got to shove the anxiety aside, and make himself move forward. And he realizes what he needs to do, where he needs to go…

-Soon, he’s upping the exercise regimen, running through that beach he cleaned up last year, doing pushups every night, and generally trying to push his body to a new level…And he’s not the only one. We’ve got Tenya doing engine-boosted laps around the campus. We’ve got Tsu snatching little robot fish out of the pool as a moving target. The four-armed guy pumping tons of iron. Invisible girl trying to do one little pull-up. You get the idea. Some of them even do teamwork, like Ochaco helping put together floating targets for some of the ranged types, or learn to really try different shit, like earphone-girl putting some actual strength into her cords…

-Two weeks pass in a single montage, and then it’s the morning of. Deku’s packing up to get to school, and his mother’s got that unique mix of deep worry and intense excitement that any parent feels when their child’s about to embark on something truly ambitious. And of course the media’s already here in force…There’s tons of vendors all around the facility…And tons of people are talking about class 1-A after the attack.

-Also, Mt. Lady shamelessly uses her body to get free food out of a vendor. She’s a terrible person and it’s hilarious.

-In the locker rooms, everyone’s getting dressed and trying to put their game faces on…They don’t get to take their costumes out there, they’ve got to go in just their PE uniforms. This is going to hinder some folks more than others, but it’s the closest thing to a level playing field. …And that’s when Shoto corners Deku up. On paper, he thinks he’s stronger than Deku. But All Might sees something in you…And he wants to see what it is. They’re going to encounter each other during this. And when they do…He intends to win.

-Everyone gets a little freaked out at him going so ferocious within the class, and Deku admits that of course Shoto is more skilled than him. Shoot got in on raw skill and training. He knows it. But…Make no mistake. He’s not going to fall behind. He can’t. He won’t be holding back either, when they meet…

-And now it’s showtime! Class 1-A pours out into the stadium, as Deku steels his will and prepares to show the world what he’s capable of…! Oh god there are thousands of people here. Oh god this is real. Oh god panic.

-And we’ve also got their counterparts, over in 1-B, and the general-studies, support and business courses! It’s the whole damn mess of people, and some of them have very different levels of motivation…But now, they must pledge honor and respect for this most noble of sports, as led by…

-You know I didn’t expect them to be so explicit about it.

-The R-Rated hero, Midnight. She is a dominatrix. A dominatrix superhero. And she calls Katsuki up as a representative of the students as a whole to lead them…

-But as soon as he gets on the mic, Katsuki just pledges one thing. That he’s going to win, and be number one. Yet, Deku notices something. He’s known Katsuki for a long time. The guy he knew would laugh while saying something like that. Would make it part of the game. This time…He’s serious. He’s too serious. This is eating at him.

-Now it’s the first game, the big place that’ll define a lot of what’s to come…It’s an obstacle course race! Set up around the outer circumference of the stadium, roughly 4 kilometers…And you can do whatever you want so long as you stay within the course barriers!!! Get ready!

-Deku’s in his head, trying to figure out a plan. With a very limited ability to regulate One For All, he’s not going to be able to risk popping off right now. Standing out is going to be hard if he has to still be able to survive the results…And then it’s go time, as the first test is getting through the incredibly narrow passage. Anyone who can’t make it through in time, is on a disadvantage! And Shoto freezes the entire area around him, locking up the entire crowd as he sprints ahead…!

-But he’s not alone! Several of the 1-A heroes manage to burst through in their various ways, while the others are forced to do it old school…But even they dodged the actual wave that locked up most everyone’s feet. Hell, even trashball managed to get through, using his orbs to bounce around and avoid having to actually navigate the ice and get into the early lead…Whennn he eats a robot punch to the face.

-The course has the same robots from the entrance exam, the Robo Inferno squad! The gigantic zero-pointers…

-Shoto starts pouring on the ice, building up a field around him, and kicks up a massive wall that locks the first zero-pointer up cold before it can reach out to him! In the confusion, there’s a moment where some can get through…But with him having frozen the crowd with them unbalanced, the huge zero-pointers start falling over, turning into chaos! The others start pouring in, and what options do they have…?

-As back home, Deku’s mom watches with horrified tears in her eyes oh god those robots are going to tear her baby boy apart!

-But in the field, Deku’s trying to think, trying to focus…The last time he faced these things down, he locked up and panicked…But he’s not that man anymore! Come on, focus, figure out a plan and execute…!

-Credits!

Oh shit, we’re getting real right away. Also Shoto is clearly carrying some hefty baggage. I assume we’ll be learning more about that as we go on. Possibly even next time, in episode SIXTEEN of My Hero Academia! Wait for it!

#where I watch #recap #anime #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[mercyedes]

tagged by @emptymasks  ; i would tag u if you hadn’t already done it LOL

rules:  answer these 85 statements and tag 20 people

tagging: uhh i tried to avoid people who had been tagged already which is usually the whole hbo war chat lmao, @damnyoualex @allstarrnicky @hoosiersblanket @skipsmalark @spartan-in-a-b-25 @hellyeahcanofpeaches @huhjean @hobbitonamission @221bcastielst

THE LAST

1. drink: water 2. phone call: my mom 3. text message: a skype to emma 4. song you listened to:  Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco 5. time you cried: I cry at least one every two days tbh  6. dated someone twice: no i am too committed to my one friend  7. kissed someone and regretted it: no again 8. been cheated on: no 9. lost someone special: yeah !! a pet ! and a fictional character  10. been depressed: currently am my dude bro 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: i would have ,, to drink first

3 FAVOURITE COLOURS 12. blue 13. purple 14. shades of pink or red? 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU 15. made new friends: lmao hah 16. fallen out of love: no emma ily  17. laughed until you cried: we made her eat a combination of all the expired foods in my fridge. she was still awake and turned over with her ipod light. punched in the back of the head, that one girl last year who slammed into my forehead, “why is that ross from friends”, this is just a list of a lot of inside jokes  18. found out someone was talking about you: I have good hearing and a good friend it comes back to me eventually, so yeah  19. met someone who changed you: emma watching IT changed me  20. found out who your friends are: i kno who she is  21. kissed someone on your facebook list: no lmao nasty 

GENERAL 22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them  23. do you have any pets: yea a lot of them but it changes a lot  24. do you want to change your name: yes but also it wouldnt happen im too lazy  25. what did you do for your last birthday: actually nothing if i remember 26. what time did you wake up: 6:00 in the gotdamn morning  27. what were you doing at midnight last night: sleeping 28. name something you can’t wait for: to get out of work tonight  29. when was the last time you saw your mom: this morning 31. what are you listening to right now: Nothing atm  32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: nope 33. something that is getting on your nerves: work, having to do work, having to do anything tbh 34. most visited website: def tumblr, youtube, skype if it counts 35. hair colour: dark brown 36. long or short hair: too long i should cut it more than a few inches lmao  37. do you have a crush on someone: someone real and not a celebrity? no  38. what do you like about yourself: i one day will kill myself we just dont know when  39. want any piercings: not really lol  40. blood type: no idea !  41. nickname: i mean not really enough to put down lmao  42. relationship status: single 43. zodiac: virgo  44. pronouns: she/her 45. favourite tv show: band of brothers, i only like the pacific for any scene snafu is in, i used to like game of thrones but then ramsay died and now it sucks ass, (cry) bates motel, sort of american horror story but eh. 46. tattoos: i dont have any ? i should get one of emma’s name tbh  47. right or left handed: right handed 48. surgery: not really i got stitches once  49. piercing: my ears but i dont wear earrings lol  50. sport: fucki christ no im a lard ass, sometimes i ride horses but its literally two or three times a month if that  51. vacation: no i aint no rich bitch  52. pair of trainers: huh 

MORE GENERAL 53. eating: nothing right now i just had some cereal  54. drinking: water 55. i’m about to: get ready to work, should probably write a lab really quick 56. waiting for: nothin, honestly to go see IT again tho lmao its a good ass movie and emma needs to win me a fuckin stuffed animal again  57. want: to fuck the goddamn clow n the fuck  58. get married: they rich ?  59. career: to do nothing and get money 

WHICH IS BETTER 60. hugs or kisses: neither !! 

61. lips or eyes: no theyre gross  62. shorter or taller: emma is one inch taller ; )  63. older or younger: soldier : 76 or gtfo  64. nice arms or nice stomach: hanzo has a nice stomach and arms  65. hook up or relationship: do i look lik e the kinda bitch to care  66. troublemaker or hesitant: fuck outta here w/ either of those 

HAVE YOU EVER 67. kissed a stranger:  no 68. drank hard liquor: no 69. lost glasses/contact lenses: not yet lmao  70. turned someone down: no who tf  71. sex on the first date: bruhhhhh stop  72. broken someone’s heart: probably any character i end up liking is ruined  73. had your heart broken: mrs mallard  74. been arrested: no but thats shocking  75. cried when someone died: yes !!! norman !!! ramsay !! the fuck  76. fallen for a friend: i mean 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN 77. yourself: no 78. miracles: no 79. love at first sight: no 80. santa claus: no 81. kiss on the first date: who cares 82. angels: i am one 

OTHER 83. current best friend’s name: emma, that is current past and future  84. eye colour: brown but like really dark brown i hate it  85. favorite movie: brother bear of course, literally any movie about a horse, any lame amazon horror movie (aka bad ben which wasnt lame and terrified me), uh IT is now a damn good film, most marvel movies, the mad max franchise, honestly transformers, a lot more 

#tag game

[illneverrecover]

the biggest tag ever

@joz-stankovich tagged me in this because they are so sweet and kind, bless.

THE LAST:

1. DRINK:  water, I’m lame. 2. PHONE CALL:  today at work, I call patients all day long. Last personal call was to the doc for my kid. 3. TEXT MESSAGE: my last text was to a group text with my husband and our two friends - “We still bringing yeungling to Denver though, right??” (We leave for Denver Comic Con on Thursday morning and Yeungling is a good ass beer, ok???) 4. SONG YOU LISTENED TO:  Black Sheep  - Metric 5. TIME YOU CRIED: Oh god, probably two days ago or so? HAVE YOU: -6. DATED SOMEONE TWICE:  yes, then I married him, so it worked out alright. 7. KISSED SOMEONE AND REGRETTED IT: eh, not really?  8. BEEN CHEATED ON: yes 9. LOST SOMEONE SPECIAL: Yeah - my husband’s granny passed away last year, and we were super close. She always supported us even when we were young and dumb, and inspired me to become a nurse so she is missed immensely. 10. BEEN DEPRESSED: yes 11. GOTTEN DRUNK AND THROWN UP: ugh yes, though its been quite some time since that’s happened (thank god)

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14: purple, black, red

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. MADE NEW FRIENDS: Yes! I’ve made so many awesome friends through tumblr and mystic messenger, it’s kind of crazy and I love it. 16. FALLEN OUT OF LOVE: no 17. LAUGHED UNTIL YOU CRIED: Yes, so many times, most recently yesterday. My husband took me on a date to celebrate our dating anniversary (13 years we’ve been together, wtf) and was being stupid in Target and I couldn’t handle it 18. FOUND OUT SOMEONE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU: yeah, but that stuff doesn’t really bother me. 19. MET SOMEONE WHO CHANGED YOU: Yes - in the last year, I met my daughter, and she’s changed me the most. 20. FOUND OUT WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE: I mean, I’ve always known. There are a few people I’m not as close with but I wouldn’t say we aren’t still friends. Life happens. 21. KISSED SOMEONE ON YOUR FACEBOOK LIST: Yes, I kiss my husband daily (I can almost hear @feelsgood-anon saying GAAAAAAAAY) 

GENERAL:

22. HOW MANY OF YOUR FACEBOOK FRIENDS DO YOU KNOW IN REAL LIFE:  All of them. I don’t use FB as much as I used to but I keep it pretty private. 23. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS: a cat Harlow, and two corgis - Eevee & Winry. 24. DO YOU WANT TO CHANGE YOUR NAME:  I’ve never been a huge fan of my name but I’m used to it, I don’t even know what I would change it to. 25. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY: Every year for my birthday, God blesses me with a new Star Wars movie (seriously, they either come out near or on my birthday - December 15th) so it usually evolves going to see those. Last year we saw Rouge One & I also did a Krampus Pub Crawl and it was awesome. 26. WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP: 11:30 pm, 12:40 am, 1:30 am, 4:00 am, and then for good at 6:33 am (thanks a lot, tiny human). 27. WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT MIDNIGHT LAST NIGHT: Sleeping, I’m an old ass woman. 28. NAME SOMETHING YOU CAN’T WAIT FOR: I’m so excited for Denver Comic Con this weekend! A week away from work in a different city, dressing up and nerding out with my friends. It’s gonna be dope. 29. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU SAW YOUR MOM: December. I live across the country from my family. 30. WHAT IS ONE THING YOU WISH YOU COULD CHANGE IN YOUR LIFE: Oh god, I’m really not sure? I wish I could spend more time doing things that I love and figuring out myself, I guess. 31. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING RIGHT NOW: I am watching The Bachelorette because I have a trash kink and I enjoy screaming about it weekly with @zombolouge 32. HAVE YOU EVER TALKED TO A PERSON NAMED TOM: My first crush was on a kid named Tommy if that counts. 33. SOMETHING THAT IS GETTING ON YOUR NERVES: Work being stupid. 34. MOST VISITED WEBSITE: Tumblr, AO3, my email, reddit. 35. MOLE/S: I don’t have any, just some freckles. 36. MARK/S: I have a scar from an ice skate (lmao true story) on my wrist, two surgical scars (one on each wrist) from my carpal tunnel surgery, a c-section scar, a scar on my knee from a door jam, and numerous tattoos and piercings. 37. CHILDHOOD DREAM: A singer who ONLY sang slow songs. Obviously. 38. HAIRCOLOR: Right now, it’s bright red again (yaaaassss). Naturally, I’m poop brown. 39. LONG OR SHORT HAIR: In general, or mine? Mine’s medium ish I guess. 40. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON SOMEONE: Saeyoung, Jumin, Zen, Masamune, & @serensama 41. WHAT DO YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF: I like to think I’m funny and I’m fun to be around? Physically probably my eyes. 42. PIERCINGS: my ears & my nose. 43. BLOODTYPE: B+!!! 44. NICKNAME: Jackie is a nickname, haha. My real name is Jacqueline. Other than that? Jack, Kiki, JG, Nurse, Hey you, Have you ever seen that show Nurse Jackie?, Babe, Mama, Babes, other inappropriate names my husband gives me. 45. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: married 46. ZODIAC: Sagittarius & Dragon 47. PRONOUNS: she/her 48. FAVORITE TV SHOW: I recently just finished The Handmaids Tale, Seraph of the End, and American Gods, they were awesome. Game of Thrones, Westworld, Stranger Things, and so many anime that I probably shouldn’t list.

49. TATTOOS: I have 7 - a huge shoulder/back lace piece, a sugar skull & French phrase on my back, a sparrow on my chest, a tree of life on my hip, a shooting star on left foot, and a phrase in Italian on my right foot. I need mooooooreeee 50. RIGHT OR LEFT HAND: right 51. SURGERY: bilateral carpal tunnel surgery bc I’m an old ass birch, c-section, wisdom teeth removal. 52. HAIR DYED IN DIFFERENT COLOR: My hair has been every color, haha. I’ve been dying it since I was 13. Brown, Blonde, Red, Pink, Purple, Blue, Orange/copper, combinations of all of those. 53. SPORT: I like watching football, hockey & baseball 55. VACATION: I’ve been on a bunch throughout my life all over, though my most recent favorite was my trip to Mexico with husband & friends after his most recent deployment. 56. PAIR OF TRAINERS: I legit couldn’t think what trainers were?? why am I so stupid??? Probably my grey chucks.

MORE GENERAL:

57. EATING: dick. I mean... what? 58. DRINKING: nothing, currently. 59. I’M ABOUT TO: fart around on tumblr, catch up on AO3 61. WAITING FOR: Wednesday to be over with, so I can get ready for my long weekend and Denver! 62. WANT: uhhhh a million dollars? not to work tomorrow?  A PONY. 

63. GET MARRIED: I already did, hopefully won’t need to do that again 64. CAREER: I am a Registered Nurse & BSN and I currently work in a Gastroenterology & Hepatology clinic.

WHICH IS BETTER

65. HUGS OR KISSES: I love hugs but there is just something special about kisses. 66. LIPS OR EYES: eyes 67. SHORTER OR TALLER: I’m pretty fucking short, so I need someone taller to reach all of the things. 68. OLDER OR YOUNGER: eh, I don’t really care. 70. NICE ARMS OR NICE STOMACH: oooooh arms 71. SENSITIVE OR LOUD: I like both. 72. HOOK UP OR RELATIONSHIP: I’m a relationship kinda gal. 73. TROUBLEMAKER OR HESITANT: I’m a well known troublemaker, woops.

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. KISSED A STRANGER: No. Well, kind of? I kissed a girl who I didn’t realize I knew but apparently we went to high school together. 75. DRANK HARD LIQUOR: of course, probably more than I should. 76. LOST GLASSES/CONTACT LENSES: Not my glasses but I’ve totally lost contacts and it suuuucks 77. TURNED SOMEONE DOWN: yup 78. SEX IN THE FIRST DATE: No 79. BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART: Yes, though it was never intentional :/ 80. HAD YOUR HEART BROKEN: yes. 81. BEEN ARRESTED: nooooo 82. CRIED WHEN SOMEONE DIED: of course 83. FALLEN FOR A FRIEND: yes, this is how most of my relationships started.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. YOURSELF: on occasion 85. MIRACLES: sometimes 86. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: No. I like the idea? But not realistically. 87. SANTA CLAUS: No, though my dad had us fooled FOR YEARS. He even got us gold buttons with the initials ‘SC’ on them and said they were from Santa. He was a sneaky bastard. 88. KISS IN THE FIRST DATE: sure? I haven’t been on a date with not my husband since I was 15 soooooo 89. ANGELS: Of course, it’s the only way I can describe some of the cherubs I’ve met through here.

OTHER:

90. CURRENT BEST FRIENDS NAME: I have many different people that I would consider my best friends that I talk to daily, but if I had to pick one, It’d be my husband probably - Aulin. 91. EYE COLOR: green! 92. FAVORITE MOVIE: Too many to name, once again (i’m awful at picking favorites) but Howl’s Moving Castle & The Princess Brides are two classics.

This thing is a BEAST so I won’t tag anyone - if you are interesting in doing this, consider this your tag! 

#ooooh boy this was a long one! #i love doing these things though haha #and i love reading them #i'm nosy #but i don't blame anyone if they don't want to #tagged #jackie gets tagged #jackie jabbers

[thetygre]

Dark Souls Lore Ramblings #1

So before I go on, I guess I should make it clear that I haven’t played DS3 or DS2. So, if there’s any information that contradicts or explains something, I probably don’t know about it. I’ve just got what I absorbed through pop cultural osmosis. 

I don’t really have any particular order or priority in mind for what I’ve got to say, so this could be kind of all over the place. If you want to know my opinions on something in particular, you should probably drop me a message or a leave a comment or something. With that said, let’s start at the very beginning. I understand that it’s a very good place to start.

Dragons in Dark Souls

So, the Everlasting Dragons. I guess they’re the start of Dark Souls. In the beginning, it was all stone and mist and arch-trees and dragons. Everybody and their mother knows from the interviews with Miyazaki that the dragons are more like elementals than flesh and blood creatures. Their scales are made of stone, the same way the arch-trees are made of stone. So the dragons, the trees, and the earth are essentially all one in the same, to some degree. At the very least, the dragons are part of the landscape and the trees might be their own separate things, what with being the pillars of worlds and all.

Anyway, this is all to get around that whole disparity of existence thing. Rocks don’t die; they’re not alive, but they don’t die, or become undead, or whatever. They still succumb to entropy, but that’s real-world science being applied to a very broadly painted mythic portrait. The way I figure it, the dragons just sat around for millennia, fusing with the ground, coming out of the ground, going back to the ground, all in an endless cycle with no actual beginning or end. Seems appropriate.

Now here’s where things get tricky; did the Everlasting Dragons know about the First Flame and the Lord Souls? Were they trying to keep them down? If they didn’t, then the war against the dragons was perpetuated solely by the Lords; they began a fight with creatures completely beyond their comprehension and perspective. But then, why have a fight? The Lords didn’t even want the place that the dragons had; that would become Ash Lake. The Lords wanted the luxury suite in the arch-tree’s branches. (Whether that refers to exclusively Anor Londo or reality as a whole, I don’t know. We’ll get there when we get there.)

The way I see it, the Dragons did have some agency in this conflict. They didn’t just happen to be there. They were guarding the arch-trees, trying to stop the Lords from establishing reality. They actively opposed the First Flame and the cycle it brought. But why exactly? Well, the obvious, existential answer is that they wanted to avoid the pain and chaos of being. Why go through life and death and all that humdrum when you can be an Everlasting Dragon? Then I thought that it might be to avoid The Dark, or Death, or whatever else; something so horrible that the high point isn’t worth it, that an eternal purgatory is better than having to live with the worst. But then I started noticing details about the dragons;

Stone Dragon. Last of the OG Everlasting Dragons. Hatched in secret or hid away somewhere. Possibly also a Bonfire Maiden, but that doesn’t make any sense (or does it?). Offers Nirvana by offering an escape from the cycle of Light and Dark by becoming somebody’s scale-sona. Anyway, count the limbs on this guy and the dragons from the opening cut scene; four legs, four wings. That’s eight limbs in total.

The Gaping Dragon. Coolest dragon in dark fantasy. Succumbs to the pleasures of the flesh and grows a giant ass mouth to feed its gluttony, because Soulsborne runs on that kind of fairy tale logic. Locked up in Blighttown for a long while until its jailers were too weak to contain it or feed it; probably both. Got hungry, escapes, rampage. I like to think it was worshiped as some kind of sewer god for a while, but that’s pure fancy. On topic; four wings, and... well, eight legs. Twelve limbs in total, but I think we can make an exception given the whole freakish mutation thing.

Now Seath? Seath’s another horrible, freakish mutant. He’s got two arms, six wings, and a whole bunch of tentacles/tails. So that’s eight limbs plus whatever’s going on down south. I’ll be honest, I was going to cover Seath as his own separate business later. But Seath is important; Seath is described as being born. Not fissioning out of the stone, but being born. Birth is tied to death, implying that Seat, unlike the Everlasting Dragons, is tied to the cycle of existence. The whole point that I’m making over these last three is that the original Everlasting Dragons come with eight limbs.

Cut to Kalameet. So called by Gough as the ‘last of the great dragons’. Big boy. (That gemstone in his head might be a nifty callback to draconic lore; in both the East and the West, dragons were described as having magical glowing gems that they stored in their head. In the East, these were the pearls that lung used for flight and to control the sea, while in the West, these gems were the dragon’s actual brain, and had fantastic divinatory and alchemical properties.) I imagine he started rampaging around Oolacile after the Dark hit and the Four Knights fell to shit. But count his limbs; two wings, four legs. Six limbs. If Kalameet is the ‘last’ of the great dragons, then that means he is well after the Lords won against the Everlasting Dragons. He may even have been born in the last days of the war proper. But in any case, Kalameet is literally lesser than the Everlasting Dragons.

Similarly, we don’t know a lot about the undead dragons, but they follow the same basic rules. Four legs, two wings; less than the Everlasting Dragons. What’s more, they’re actually well and proper dead. I mean as much as anything that’s undead (and not an Undead) is dead. They’re corpses animated by some kind of magic or willpower, that’s all. But the cycle of life and death has absolutely affected them.

Also, their asses are in Izalith. I have no idea what that’s about. It honestly kind of infuriates me. I feel like I could just put the word “IZALITH” in great big, bold letters over these things and anybody who actually played this game would understand. Maybe something cool happened. Maybe the Lords fought their last epic battle against the dragons at Izalith, and dragon butts are all that remain. Maybe the Witches tried to enslave or tame the dragons, and when the Flame of Chaos destroyed Izalith, it killed the dragons, and the demons and dragons fought in some Heavy Metal war of fire and claws! Yeah! But probably not. Because it’s Izalith. So the answer is ‘rushed development’.

And at the very bottom are the dragons of today. Interchangeably called ‘drakes’ or ‘wyverns’, they have two wings and two legs; a paltry four limbs compared to the Everlasting. The Hellkite is a dangerous enemy, but the Blues are easy pickings for the patient knight. Ornstein hunts them for sport. (Have to guess that he must have started slacking off if something as big as the Hellkite could grow up there.) Even their habitat doesn’t acknowledge them as dragons; it’s ‘Valley of the Drakes’, not ‘Valley of the Dragons’. In essence, the Everlasting Dragons devolved; over the generations, they became less and less until their current descendants are no better than animals. Could it get any lower than this?

The answer is yes. The hydra is barely even acknowledged as a pseudo-dragon. The only thing that even ties them to dragons is that they drop dragon scales and are in the vicinity of dragons or something that a dragon made. It has no limbs, unless you count its ray-like flippers, and a bunch of seemingly useless tendrils hanging off it. I’ll be honest, the hydras kind of piss me off; the one in Darkroot I can understand, but how the Hell did one get into Ash Lake? It’s one thing for basilisks and mushroom folk to be there; they came in through the arch-tree. But how did a sixty foot long aquatic reptile get there?

I don’t know; frankly, I don’t think there is an answer. The best I can come up with riffs from Norse mythology. If we assume that the arch-tree is Yggdrasil, then the Stone Dragon is Nidhoggr, the dragon at the bottom of the world. In some versions of the myth, Nidhoggr is surrounded by a nest of lesser serpents. So the hydra is the Stone Dragon’s guardian? Offspring?

I guess I’m not really talking about all the dragons of Dark Souls if I don’t talk about the Path of the Dragon covenant as well. It really is kind of analagous to Buddhism in a weird way; through the Stone Dragon, you can escape the cycle of life and death, becoming, like the Everlasting Dragons themselves, something beyond any of the Lord Souls. In a way, it’s perfect for Undead; as a being already outside the cycle of life and death, an Undead is closer to escaping it than almost any other creature in Lordran. All they would need would be that final push to make the transformation a permanent part of themselves.

Of course, there may be a more petty side to the covenant; given that the covenant operates on dragon scales, it might be that the Stone Dragon intends for its servants to hunt down lesser dragons like the drakes and hydras. There’s no evidence to that, however, and it frankly seems beneath the Stone Dragon. Remember, its motivations and mindset are unknowable to anything derived from the Lord Souls. Petty vengeance doesn’t seem like it’s M.O.

So what’s all this add up to? Nothing much, really. It’s just what motivated the Everlasting Dragons, the setup to the establishing conflict of the Dark Souls mythos. The Dragons weren’t afraid of dying or the Dark; they were afraid of watching their own devolution. Somehow, I think, they knew that the cycle would wear on them, generation after generation, until dragons were little more than animals. Time ruins all things; it’s one of the big recurring themes of the Souls series. Even Dark Souls 2 (which, as I understand it, is stuffed to the gills with dragons) understood that.

The Dragons’ fight was the fight against definition itself; not as simple as stagnation versus chaos, but against the very act of being in and of itself. And I guess that adds up to what’s valued as important in the Souls universe; ‘existence’ is synonymous with ‘definition’. The very act of perception and processing that perception is the heart of reality, a notion that goes all the way back to Demon’s Souls.

Ultimately, like I said, it doesn’t really matter. The dragons are dead, stupid, or in hiding. But they tell us about the tone of the universe, and I had to start somewhere. Thanks for reading this far! Anything to add or ask for the next rambling?

#Dark Souls #Dark Souls lore #everlasting dragon #stone dragon #seath the scaleless #dark souls lore ramblings

[dystopialiving]

Case Study #10: Let’s Play

Some Background

Documenting video game play-through is an activity that’s been undertaken by disparate groups more or less since the popular inception of video games.

Probably.

The creation of the specific Let’s Play genre is credited to Something Awful forum user Michael Sawyer, A.K.A. slowbeef, in the mid 2000s. Inspired by a thread wherein screenshots of Oregon Trail gameplay were posted to the forum to provide users the opportunity to collaborate on a play-through of the classic game, slowbeef made the jump from posting game screenshots and commentary on his personal site to the Something Awful forums. He posted these image commentaries, for which he coined the Let’s Play name, until 2007, when he introduced video into the mix. And so, from the loins of slowbeef, a genre was born.

Today, Let’s Play takes the form of recorded or live streamed video wherein a gamer documents and provides commentary on his or her experience playing a video game. Put more simply, remember when you were little and you would go over to David’s house because he was the only one with a Super Nintendo? And then, instead of letting you play Super Star Wars, he just made you sit on the couch and watch him play while he said “let me show you something cool” over and over? It’s that, but in video form.

“Let’s Play” my ass

Let’s Play videos are distinct from walkthroughs or strategy guides in that their primary purpose isn’t to provide information on how to to progress through the game. Instead, they document a gamer’s subjective experience in order to entertain and, as the name implies, attempt to include the viewer. Serialization or live-streaming of play-throughs allows the audience of Let’s Play videos to provide feedback on how the gamer should complete play-through, though this isn’t a necessary component. In many instances, the viewer is simply included through the comment section of the stream or video. The format of Let’s Play videos is relatively loose, but they can take the form of criticism, unique challenges (i.e. complete a game without killing any enemies), or play-throughs of user-made mods to well-known games.

If you don’t spend a lot of time in the world of online video, this might seem like a niche form of entertainment, but it’s important to know that Let’s Play video content is popular. Like, really, really popular. Twitch.tv, a site dedicated to live streaming video game-related content, including a huge chunk of Let’s Play video, sees 45 million unique users per month. Similarly, Let’s Play content is extraordinarily popular on YouTube, with the honor of the most-subscribed creator on the entire platform belonging to Let’s Play superstar Felix Kjellberg, more popularly known by his handle PewDiePie. Kjellberg has more than 50 million subscribers on YouTube, and his videos have seen nearly 14 billion views combined. Framed in YouTube Standard Units, that’s 5 Gangnam Styles worth of views. His annual income from this activity approaches $50 million, which is more than all but the wealthiest professional athletes make. Suck it, jocks.

Oh, and Time magazine named him one of the 100 most influential people in the world in 2016. So, yeah. It’s kind of a big deal.

If you’ve never seen one of these videos, their style could best be described as “millennial as all hell.” Here’s PewDiePie’s most popular video, which as of this writing has surpassed 74 million views. If you can through more than a few minutes of it, congratulations: you’re more patient than I am:

The Dystopia

Many works of dystopian fiction explore the concept of what entertainment might look like in their imagined societies, often featuring dumbed-down versions of popular media or barely-disguised advertisements that have supplanted other forms of media. As early back as The Time Machine in 1895, H.G. Wells postulated on the decline of literature and the curiosity that inspires its consumption among the childlike an ineffectual Eloi, descendants of humanity who evolved in an environment in which strength and intelligence were no longer required to thrive:

The irony of presenting the film version rather than a text excerpt is not lost on me.

Similar representations of in-world media, in which content is dumbed-down and designed to promote complacency and consumption, appear in Brave New World, The Marching Morons, THX-1138, and Idiocracy, the latter of which already bears an eerie resemblance to the end-bumper of most YouTube videos:

Criticism of the Let’s Play genre generally follows the same pattern that has characterized criticism of all emergent forms of media throughout modern history. For a pre-internet point of reference, see Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death, which directly draws comparisons to Huxley’s Brave New World in criticizing television as a form of media.

Within this vein, criticism of the Let’s Play genre can roughly be categorized as follows:

It’s dumbing down entertainment/it’s reductive: i.e., why would we watch a video of someone playing games that we can play ourselves? A South Park episode featuring the genre, entitled #REHASH, takes this line of criticism.

It’s encouraging sloth/complacency: i.e., Why are we paying people (in some cases) millions of dollars to sit on their asses and play video games?

It encourages further consumption: i.e., plenty of these videos are just thinly-veiled advertisements for the games themselves.

It’s isolating: i.e., Why are we sitting in dark rooms watching these videos alone when we could be gaming socially?

But Why?

While the Let’s Play genre might seem like the shiniest and newest thing in media, both the form itself and the criticism it has inspired are anything but. In reality, Let’s Play is simply the logical product of existing realities within the media landscape.

Watching someone play a game that you yourself could play is nothing new. That idea has been around basically forever, and it exists in what might otherwise be considered the cultural opposite of video games: spectator sports. The only real difference between spectator sports and Let’s Play videos is the type of game being played. In fact, in comparing the two, we can find responses to the criticisms leveled at the latter:

It’s dumbing down/it’s reductive

We can find value in watching someone perform a task we ourselves are capable of because that person might be more skilled or more entertaining than we are. I can play a pickup game of basketball if I want, but it doesn’t compare to watching Steph Curry sink a half-court buzzer beater. Similarly, I can play through Ocarina of Time and enjoy many hours of interesting story and puzzles, but watching an expert beat the game in under 20 minutes is a categorically different experience.

It’s encouraging sloth/complacency

Given the incredibly high spectator to participant ratio, do spectator sports really discourage sloth any more than Lets Play? The chubby guy in the stands or on the couch screaming about his team is such a common sight that it’s practically a trope at this point. Cheering only burns so many calories, after all. Furthermore, we can’t even argue that spectator sports universally promote healthy habits among those few who they do inspire to become athletes. As our pal Fake Malcolm Gladwell so eloquently put it:

It encourages further consumption

Spectator sports are just as laden with advertising as Let’s Play, even if the latter can obfuscate the matter more. Furthermore, advertising provides a means for content creators to earn money, and it’s broadly a good thing that as the economic landscape is changing, new opportunities for individuals to make a living continue to arise. Advertising within the Let’s Play genre is really only dystopian in so far as it approaches content marketing, i.e. disguising an advertisement as the content a viewer is seeking out, rather than explicitly promoting a product in and around the content itself. This becomes even more concerning when considering the relative youth and impressionability of the Let’s Play audience. While the format of Let’s Play videos lends them to content marketing more than does something like spectator sports, this form of advertising is in no way unique to the genre. As a rabbit hole of its own, it bears more complete discussion in a separate post.

It’s isolating

It’s on this final point that spectator sports and Let’s Play diverge most clearly. Spectator sports are still a predominantly social activity, with viewers gathering at stadiums, in sports bars, or in their homes to watch games. While the act of watching Let’s Play videos alone on a computer or phone screen may seem fundamentally less social, the evidence actually suggests that the genre did not arise to promote solitary behavior, but rather to remedy larger isolating forces at play. The rise of Let’s Play videos is directly correlated with something we’ve discussed in previous posts—the death of local multiplayer games. As video games become more graphically intense, consoles have a harder and harder time processing the multiplayer experience on a single screen.

Furthermore, game and console manufacturers have a strong monetary incentive for favoring online multiplayer over local multiplayer. For example, if you and three friends want to play a game locally, that requires the purchase of one console, one copy of the game, and four controllers. If you and the same three friends want to play a game online, that requires the purchase of four consoles, four copies of the game, four controllers, and, in many cases, a monthly online service subscription. Surprise! Once again, the pursuit of profit plays a large role in the most dystopian aspect of this case study.

Redeeming Qualities

Digging into the Let’s Play community in either the form of video comments or forums, it becomes clear that the social nature of the videos is what draws a substantial portion of viewers in, motivated in part by the aforementioned economic strains that modern gaming places on gamers—particularly those who are younger. Playing the latest and greatest games can be a very expensive endeavor, but watching Let’s Play videos is free, absent the cost of an internet connection. Viewers in many cases are unable to play these games themselves, socially or otherwise, but can find in Let’s Play an experience at least somewhat analogous to playing them—and playing them with friends to boot. Beyond that, it’s hard to ignore the generally positive tone of comments on Let’s Play videos, in particular those as unrepentantly positive as PewDiePie’s. In a very real way, watching these videos makes people feel happier and less lonely.

Beyond social benefits and the mitigation of economic strains, Let’s Play democratizes access to games that are otherwise restricted by region or obscurity, particularly old and out-of-print games. A content creator can invest his or her revenue stream in these types of games and allow viewers from around the world to gain insight into what it’s like to actually play them. Similarly, the Let’s Play genre can provide a valuable platform for independent games that might not otherwise be noticed by mainstream game reviewers. Plenty of genuinely interesting and unusual indie games, including Thomas Was Alone and The Stanley Parable have directly attributed their success to positive relationships with Let’s Play channels.

Can We Fix It?

In an unexpected turn of events, after some research and reflection, I think that there’s much more to like about Let’s Play than there is to fear.

Don’t get used to it.

If anything, Let’s Play is a symptom, not a cause of the larger social isolation—at least in physical spaces—happening today. In many ways, the genre seeks to fight back against that isolation and provide a social outlet for gamers, albeit a digital one. There’s a larger conversation to be had about whether a digital remedy for physical isolation is adequate, though my position on the subject is probably not as full Turkle as you might think, given the rest of this blog’s content.

Perhaps the biggest space for concern is the commodification and corporatization of the genre. As Let’s Play becomes increasingly popular, game manufacturers will seek to increase their presence in the form of content marketing, which will have the effect of reversing the kind of democratization that the genre excels in.

We need to be clear in calling for transparency in advertising and improving our own abilities to discern sponsored content. On that note:

Up next: Content Marketing

#lets play #youtube #video games #pewdiepie #DystopiaLiving #dystopia #the time machine #idiocracy

[arcadeidea]

Death Race [1976]

(Content warning: Vehicular homicide.)

Cliche when it comes to the game is to sensibly chuckle at the quaint moral outrage that made it infamous: all this over some crudely-drawn stick figures! This condescending ahistorical reaction doesn't just sell short humanity's ability to read abstraction and process media, and thus really the medium of video games as a whole, even the ones with Good Graphics, but Death Race in particular. Death Race is ooky-spooky, a power that I think has only been accentuated with time as its graphics age and it gets removed from the hustle and bustle of an arcade. It feels downright haunted. Something is wrong, not with its morality so much as it feels jarringly like it shouldn't exist in playable form. It should be an urban legend like Polybius, or a creepypasta like sonic.exe, or a plot point in a horror movie like the cursed TV broadcast in Halloween III [1982].

The sound design is perhaps the most vital part of evoking this atmosphere. There's a constant low hum straight out of Eraserhead [1977], which clashes with the mid-range overtones provided by the car engine's revving when you move. The high end is filled out with the piercing cry of distress that follows every thud as you ram into people, littering the playing field with the cross-marked graves of innocence and persecution. These pedestrians are absolutely defenseless against the grill of your automobile, and they scramble around frantically changing directions at random, so terrified out of clear thinking are they. This time, it's not the game world that is hostile: it's YOU. You're the villain, animate raw malice in car form, the Heavy Metal cabinet depicting the driver character as nothing shy of the gleeful Angel of Death that you will become for the low price of a quarter and your eternal soul. It's Hatred [2015] [1976], stripped of all pretension. There's not a win state, only a score and a time limit. It's engrossing and addictive and emotionally-involving and and even cathartic. There's a fanmade port out I recommend, keep in mind though that it changes the graphics a bit, such as replacing the stick figure sprites with something that looks more like gremlins, and I'm not sure if the original had its wraparound canvas or not.

It's known that Death Race is a quick-and-dirty reskin of Exidy's earlier Demolition Derby game in the face of business dealings gone awry, but they could have made it a game about, I don't know, garbage pick-up or animal control or something. Completely abstract blocks. It would have been just as much fun, the tank-control game mechanics here are tight but operating them is suitably challenging enough to engage, and every run is fresh. Instead, they put together a horror game where you are a spree killer. Bold! They backpedalled from this precipice of tastelessness, with the concept that the pedestrians you ruthlessly mow down aren't human beings, but they're gremlins, and you are the literal (not metaphorical) Grim Reaper, helpfully sending them back home. Oh, how nice! How completely vacated of any punch at all. It's a paper-thin veil, basically a condescending lie, that asks us to believe ass-covering newspaper quotes and one word on the cabinet over what is plainly obvious to everyone who looks at the game. (The concept of the gremlin, this archetypical post-hoc justification of virtual murder, could come in handy for us later down the line, say, in most any video game with aliens or demons or Nazis.) Before the controversy, Exidy even took out ads that trumpeted precisely how devoid it was of context: "Death Race 98 is what the player wants it to be: mobsters in the 30's, commandos in the 40's, dragsters in the 50's, hells angels in the 60's, street racers in the 70's."

The half-hearted feints at narrative recontextualization are completely dominated, not even by the work itself, but by the then-very-well-known grindhouse film Death Race 2000 [1975], on which it was transparently modeled (continuing the trend of games looking up to movies.) Death Race 2000 was not a horror experience, but an exploitation film, squarely focused on delivering slapstick carnage and bare skin, which was very common in the 1970s USA. It didn't flinch from its premise, where the state gamifies wanton murder, especially those it deems undesirable, like the elderly or any women, who are worth more points for killing. Critics and fans alike could clearly see such a state of affairs as depicted in the film was a satirical and comedic extension of everyday evaluations of the value of human lives. People in the film more or less up and say that the vaunted "American tradition" is but a churning engine of death and automobile worship. The controversy was over if the social commentary was but a feint, an excuse for the immoral spectacle that perhaps was inexcusable; if it was too high-minded or under-emphasized and ended up going over the heads of the literal elementary schoolers sneaking into the R-rated movie, which was very common in the 1970s USA. This familiar line of suspicion (across eras and political lines) demands satire be broad, easily-distinguished, and single-dimensionally didactic enough for a 9-year-old to grasp, even if (in a given particular instance) underestimated children are not around nor invoked. It doesn’t sound much like satire to me — it sounds more like uncut paranoia about irony, ambiguity, open questions, and interpretation as the refuge of evil.

It's hard to argue that Death Race [1976] was intended as a deft satire, but it's almost inarguable that it was meant as provocative, transgressive, and tongue-in-cheek, which for most purposes is the same thing. Keep in mind how it fits in with its arcade brethren as much as it sticks out. Last time we were in the arcade, Atari was trying out the idea that video games could be sexy, but skipping ahead to 1976, familiar notions have set in: Video games are for children. Simultaneously though, it's not as though Death Race was the first violent video game, not by a long shot — video games in the arcade circa 76 are already largely violent-themed, when not directly imitating big brother Sports and other traditional games. There's the war-themed Tank [1974], the grandparent of Counter-Strike [1999], or Sea Wolf [1976], or the western-themed Gun Fight [1975], about which one arcade proprietor had this to say:

"...that's the tradition of the Great American West, having a shootout, a duel, in the street. But deliberately running people down — that isn't an American tradition at all." [Tuscon Daily Citizen, January 14, 1977]

All too true! Intentionally mowing down pedestrians just isn't part of any American cultural tradition. That's what makes it safe. For Death Race to influence kids in the very literal way hypothesized by some at the time including professional psychiatrists, a (one-in-a-million) child who played Death Race and/or saw the film at age 9 would need to hold on to that idea, which gets its potency and appeal from its abhorrent aberrance, as what is in fact good and normal, all the way through their driver's test at age 18, in direct contradiction of every other stimulus surrounding them, like seeing thousands of real life people model non-homicidal driving. This kind of thinking from the alleged Moral Majority was dominant for about 30 years, despite being cuckoo bananas. Gamer culture is, to this day, quite noticeably and understandably once-bitten-twice-shy about talking about the possible negative effects or aspects of media because of it.

The perhaps accidental echo of the "American tradition" that the movie Death Race 2000 spoke of so glowingly is very telling. War is certainly American tradition — why, Tank came out right at the tail end of the Vietnam War! Gun Fight, like The Oregon Trail [1971], also depicts American tradition through the lens of the western! Violence in the name of justice or warfare is not just excusable, but downright wholesome and patriotic. Nevermind that colonial expansion and war are just as much displays of wanton violence against the groups who don't have as much capability with violent force as you that just happen to have been lent institutional legitimacy by the state in a way that Death Races haven't yet. (I do actually like westerns, believe it or not, but one should not mistake them for anything but a flight of complete fantasy.) What's missing from this trenchant media analysis is not just any notion of the comparable death tolls of intentional vehicular homicide versus wars and genocide, but any real concept of hegemony, the normalization of ideas. Kids aren't constantly inundated from all angles with talk of how cool and good it is to kill strangers with your car, but entire industries and large chunks of the population and culture that aren't even being paid off are committed to convincing kids and generally everyone that war is good and normal, worldwide.

Death Race is conspicuous among its peers only in its failure to provide any adequate justification, any way for your opposition to fight back on a level & fair playing field. Maybe they knew what they were doing, maybe they just honestly didn't see this difference. In succeeding as a work and as a commercial proposition, it lays bare the truth that nobody comes to the arcade to model moral behavior. That despite the pretense and illusion, violence is all ultimately just as senseless and abhorrent and and perverse and primal in a warzone as it is in in a parking lot. This is why Death Race must be singled out as both an immoral aberration and a damnation on its whole medium, as a cause of violence and sickness and not a symptom or illustration. To do anything else would be to concede to its implicit indictment, or, you know, to maybe just chill out a little bit, both of which are equally unthinkable.

[oltnews]

Jennifer Lawrence plays the role of 'Katniss Everdeen' in THE HUNGER GAMES. Lionsgate Lionsgate announced a film version of Suzanne Collins Hunger Games prequel, The songbirds and snakes ballad. Fresh out of the press, Lionsgate has announced plans to shoot Suzanne Collins' To come up Hunger Games prequel, The songbirds and snakes ballad, in the next Hunger Games movie. Director Francis Lawrence, who succeeded Gary Ross after the premiere Hunger Games and directed the next three installments (Catch fire in 2013, Mockingjay part I in 2014 and Mockingjay part II in 2015), is back in the director's chair, with Michael Arndt who writes the screenplay and Nina Jacobson and Brad Simpson who produce. No, I have no idea when it will be released, but keep an eye out for available locations before Thanksgiving. The book, slated for May 19, is said to be a story of origin for the villain Coriolanus Snow, starring the possible tyrant at the age of 18 before becoming the genocidal president of Panem. Yes, there have been online discussions about the potential "problematic" notion of highlighting a handsome white guy who ends up becoming the bad guy, and it's no secret that I think the Hunger Games the property must vacate as long as it is early. At the very least, I would say that people presented themselves for the brand character (Katniss Everdeen by Jennifer Lawrence) as much as for the source material, just as they presented themselves for Harry potter and for dusk especially because of Bella and Edward. This is one of the main reasons why Harry potter and dusk turned into cinematic sensations everything (among others) The Seeker: The Dark is Rising, Mortal Engines, The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones and The donor no. People introduced themselves to renowned characters more than the IP or the plot, although an easily explained plot ("children forced to kill other children for television entertainment", "a vampire and a teenage girl fall in love with each other "young boy goes to boarding school for wizards") translates better than convoluted plots of Divergent and the Maze Runner sequelae. In addition, they wanted to see Katniss kick ass and save the proverbial day, to the point where audiences declined when the films moved away from the "hunger games" and started to really dig into politics and entertainment criticism. / media simply implicit in the first two films. Mockingjay Part I ($ 337 million in Canada and $ 767 million globally) and Mockingjay Part II ($ 282 million / $ 648 million) suffered comparative decreases from the first two films as the films moved further away from the "pretty cute girls and boys" gadget that looks stylish and then kills each other for TV sports ". Many moviegoers obviously didn't care about politics or the thematic context and just wanted to watch the hot guys indulge in the very kind of distraction from the bread and circuses that the movies were trying to criticize. This theatrical decline of Hunger Games (408 million national dollars and 654 million global dollars) and Catch fire ($ 424 million / $ 865 million), as well as the presidential election of a budding dictator, seem to imply that the audience did not understand the point (or took the big turn of the fourth film as a parable "Hillary Clinton is evil") or don't don't care about the surface thrills, which is part of the reason why few of us really talk much about the property. However, the source material is not necessarily responsible for the reaction of the consumer, and The hunger Games remains the latest “new to cinema” franchise to shoot leading blockbuster numbers. As I feared in 2015, anything that scored in the range of $ 750 billion to $ 1 billion (or more) was either animated, or a redesign / pursuit of a previously successful property or (in the case of MCU and DC Films). You can say that Jumanji: Welcome to the jungle (a 22-year-old sequel to a movie that earned $ 365 million and reached $ 962 million worldwide) is the closest exception to the rule we've had, and it's possible that John Wick: Chapter 4 could go supernova abroad when the time comes and save alongside Impossible mission and Fast furious, but it is completely speculative. Everything else that has climbed endlessly and beyond since late March 2012, just six weeks before The Avengers changed everything, was either "new" comic book movies (Black panther, Aquaman, etc.) of established cinematographic universes and redesigns or suites (Jurassic World, Star Wars, The Hobbit, Fast & Furious, Fantastic Beasts, etc.) previously successful cinematographic properties. And since then, Lionsgate has had nothing like this except the fifth and final dusk film ($ 819 million) in late 2012 that they distributed after purchasing Summit Entertainment. the Now you see me movies grossed $ 350 million and $ 334 million in 2013 and 2016, while John Wick: Chapter 3 soared to $ 322 million last year and the original, without deductible La La Land danced to $ 441 million in 2016/2017. There is certainly nothing at the $ 650- $ 865 million scale of the four Hunger Games movies. This is not a criticism, as Lionsgate is generally not known for mega-blockbuster tent poles, and it is not a standard to which they should be held regularly. The hunger Games arrived at exactly the right time, with Jennifer Lawrence at the peak of fame, the media all worshiping the "strong, fierce" Katniss Everdeen as a counterpoint to dusk"Will, passive, beholden to a boy" Bella Swan. None of these descriptions is correct and the Hunger Games the films were fascinating as portraits of Katniss struggling with her mythological version created by the media, just as Lawrence was dealing with balancing her true self with the character "cool girl" created by the media. Katniss was not the greatest American hero just because she occasionally fought and shot arrows here and there, and Lawrence was not the ideal "cool girl" simply because she ate burgers and stumbled in stairs. The fourth and last Hunger Games The film showed the cruel fabrication of what it really was, which is why I was disappointed to see it play (only compared to its predecessors) relatively poorly. Of course, this was previewed by my audience's reactions to the first film (cheering when kidnapped children murdered other kidnapped children) and the horribly ironic festivities from the red carpet premiere for the second film (and probably the others ) that looked like high-profile propaganda broadcasts from the Capitol. Like, relatively speaking, the reaction of fans (vocal minority) to Iron man 3 and The Last Jedi, the relative rejection of the most political and deconstructionist Hunger Games the movies (and it's not like the first two were subtle in terms of politics) brought out an audience that really just wanted bread and circuses and / or comforting fantasy tropes. So I can't help but wonder, even assuming the book is solid and powerful reading, how does a new Hunger Games will be received. To be fair, there is a difference between "Here's a new Hunger Games prequel "and" Here's a new Hunger Games frankness, "as I imagine curiosity will do for at least the" first "film. After all, fantastic beasts and where to find them earned $ 817 million worldwide before Grindelwald's crimes dropped to (still solid, poor domestic total and audience buzz aside) $ 659 million worldwide two years later. I am sure we will have more information once people have read the books. And just because I hate to consider the real thematic heritage of the four originals Hunger Games movies don't mean that the movies themselves were bad or that their intentions were immoral. Sometimes you do Fight Club and people come out thinking Tyler Durden is a hero and "Project Mayhem" sounds like a good idea. As for the humanization of the villain, this can prove to be less "problematic" and more "culturally irrelevant". As we've seen in the past four years, the bad guys are sometimes closer to the Cobra Commander than to Anakin Skywalker. https://oltnews.com/will-the-public-still-care-about-hunger-games-without-jennifer-lawrences-katniss-everdeen-forbes?_unique_id=5e9f32c8386a1

[bigmacdaddio]

IOWA Legendary Coach

‘He’s the king’: Remembering the unmistakable charisma and enduring legacy of Hayden Fry

By Scott Dochterman

Dec 17, 2019

26

IOWA CITY, Iowa — An icon. An innovator. A motivator. A legend.

College Football Hall of Fame coach Hayden Fry was all of these. Now, after losing a final battle with cancer at age 90, he belongs to the ages.

No single person wielded more influence at the University of Iowa or was more important to its history than Fry. From inventing the logo that still represents the Hawkeyes to breaking the Michigan-Ohio State 13-year Rose Bowl stranglehold to building one of the sport’s greatest coaching trees to shattering the Southwest Conference racial barrier at SMU, Fry’s influence on college football ranks among the most impactful in the sport’s history.

“Hayden Fry is a college football icon and an Iowa legend,” Iowa coach Kirk Ferentz said in a statement. “His Hall of Fame career is well known, but personally, he will always be the man who took a chance on me at the start of my coaching career. I was proud to coach with him and honored to succeed him when he retired. He’s been a great mentor and a true friend. I am forever grateful to him.”

Fry was born in Eastland, Texas, and grew up in Odessa. His homespun, colloquial clichés were formed in his days as a West Texas youth. His common phrase “scratch where it itches” became his trademark Haydenism. Few, if any, coaches had a better psychological read on a team or a situation. Fry was folksy and funny but could be tough and stern. His military background as a captain in the Marines demanded discipline. He finished his 37-year coaching career with a 232-178-10 coaching record. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 2003.

With unmistakable charisma, Fry developed friendships as a youngster with Roy Orbison and President George H.W. Bush and later with John Wayne and Lee Iacocca, the Ford Motor Co. and Chrysler Corp. CEO. Fry once said that Iacocca was so impressed with SMU’s hard-fought loss to Michigan that he named Ford’s muscle vehicle “the Mustang.”

Fry became Iowa’s coach in 1979 and ended a 19-year streak of non-winning seasons with a Rose Bowl appearance in 1981. It was the first time since 1967 that a team other than Michigan or Ohio State represented the league in Pasadena. Fry won Big Ten titles in 1981, 1985 and 1990 and guided the Hawkeyes to 14 bowl games over a 17-year period. His 96 wins in Big Ten play sit fifth in league annals.

Fry’s coaching tree ranks among the elite in college football history. His 1983 staff included Bill Snyder, Barry Alvarez, Kirk Ferentz, Dan McCarney and Bob Stoops, all of whom became the winningest head coaches at their respective schools. Others like Bret Bielema, Mike Stoops, Mark Stoops, Bo Pelini, Jim Leavitt, Jay Norvell and Bob Diaco started their coaching careers under Fry.

But of all his many accomplishments, Fry was most proud of giving Jerry LeVias a scholarship at SMU to integrate the Southwest Conference in 1965.

“That is the greatest thing I did in 47 years of coaching, from high school to the Marine Corps to college, is to give the first black player a scholarship in that part of the world because it opened up the door for all the other fine black players to at least have a choice of where they wanted to go to school,” Fry said. “Because at that time they had to go to the Big Ten or the Pac-10 or whatever.

“That was a very difficult thing to do. I’ve been told repeatedly by law enforcement, specifically by the FBI and CIA and other people I had to deal with, not to discuss it publicly because what it does is it triggers all the other people in the world that are sick or as I call the rednecks who are still fighting the Civil War and they do bad things. So you don’t discuss some of those things. But I can just tell you briefly I would say 95 percent of you present would not believe what Jerry LeVias went through, what I went through, what my coaching staff went through from examining our locker room on out-of-town trips, to checking the airplane that we flew on to see if there was a bomb on it, whatever. We even had a sniper in the stands at one of the games that was going to kill Jerry.

(Bettmann / Getty Images)

“We screened all of his mail, all of his telephone calls. But he had real problems on campus, from his own teammates, some of the faculty members. They just weren’t used to dealing with African-Americans and it was bad and to this day it was bad. A lot of it is not publicized. And I would never tell Jerry all of the things that were bad because it would have scared him to death. He was scared enough as it was.”

In a statement Tuesday night, LeVias said, “Coach Fry caught a lot of hell for doing what he did.”

Fry led SMU for 11 seasons. In 1966, he took the Mustangs to the Southwest Conference title and a Cotton Bowl berth. In his final season, SMU finished 7-4 but Fry was fired after a 49-66-1 overall record.

“I remember as a kid watching the Hayden Fry Show in Texas at SMU,” said longtime Iowa assistant Don Patterson, who was Fry’s offensive coordinator from 1989-98. “Anybody who knows anything about Texas football understands he’s a living legend in Texas. To this day he is. He can’t go anywhere in Texas without being noticed.”

After leaving SMU, Fry spent six years at North Texas and posted 10-1 and 9-2 records in his final two years, respectively. His Mean Green squad, however, was not invited to a bowl game either year and it frustrated him. In late 1978, he met with Iowa athletics director Bump Elliott to discuss the vacant Hawkeyes job. That meeting changed the course of Iowa and the Big Ten forever.

Picking Iowa

The Hawkeyes had become a college football wasteland. Iowa hadn’t posted a winning season since 1961, and from 1970-78, the Hawkeyes were 25-71-2. Yet with a strong fan base continuing to fill Kinnick Stadium, Elliott tapped the confident, loquacious Texan to reverse the generational decline.

Fry held a news conference on Dec. 10, 1978, and vowed to change the culture.

“We will be colorful, tough, and we will have exciting football,” Fry said that day, as reported by the Cedar Rapids Gazette. “I’ve always been a passing coach. We throw the football to open up the defense so we can do what we want to do — run the football.

“We may run the Statue of Liberty play out of the end zone; that’s my style of football. We are exciting, but we do this in order to win.”

In the Hawkeyes’ home opener, the Hawkeyes faithful gave Fry and his team a standing ovation as they shifted into multiple formations. Iowa blew a 26-3 lead in a 30-26 loss to Indiana, which was coached by Lee Corso. The following week, Iowa traveled to Oklahoma and competed against the mighty Sooners and Heisman Trophy-winning running back Billy Sims, but still lost 21-6.

In what initially seemed like a moral victory, Fry, a psychology major at Baylor, saw it differently.

“I just told my football team that’s what’s wrong with our ball club,” Fry said, as reported by the Cedar Rapids Gazette. “We get our asses kicked and we get complimented. If I see one guy with a smile on his face, I’m gonna bust him right in the mouth.”

Iowa finished 5-6 in his first year and 4-7 in 1980. Still, the vibe had changed around the program entering his third season.

“I think people sensed that Hayden was different, that the program he brought was different than what they had seen before,” said Alvarez, then the Iowa linebackers coach. “We were very competitive.”

Fry wanted to change the image of Iowa football as much as the on-field product. He gained permission from the Pittsburgh Steelers to pattern the Hawkeyes’ black-and-gold uniforms in a similar fashion. He opted for a different logo on the helmet, so he solicited ideas from fans and partnered with an advertising firm. After a weekend of sketches, Bill Colbert of Three Arts Advertising in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, designed the TigerHawk.

“From where I come from, it’s called selling the sizzle before the steak,” Fry said.

The players were instructed to enter and leave the playing field in a “Swarm” formation, which signifies both the team aspect and also was designed to prevent energy burnout.

Fry also had the Kinnick Stadium visiting locker room walls painted pink because he considered it a passive color. For 40 years, different teams have papered every inch of the locker room to try to alter its effects on their players. When Iowa faced a tough opponent, Fry was loose with his players and quarreled with media over trivial matters to deflect attention. When the Hawkeyes played an inferior opponent, Fry drilled his players like a taskmaster.

“He was a wonderful head coach,” said Phil Haddy, a member of Iowa’s sports information department from 1971-2011. “He was a wonderful administrator. At the same time, a huckster. He could sell tickets. He was good. Whenever he went to a press conference, I’d go up and visit with him first. He’d always be sour. ‘It’s not in my contract. I don’t have to do these things.’ When he’d walk into the room, every week, ‘How y’all doing?’ He’d be smiling. He’d be 110 percent professional.

“He was a dying breed. He did everything. He sold tickets. He coached. He got everybody interested in things. He did it all. Today, the coaches want to coach. Hayden would go to I-Clubs and he’d get there early and he’d stay late and shook every hand. Hayden was a one-of-a-kind. He’s the king.”

During the farming crisis in 1985, Fry had a sticker with the initials “ANF — America Needs Farmers” placed on Iowa’s helmets. He also sang and danced “The Hokey Pokey” in the locker room after victories and wore white pants and sunglasses on the sidelines.

(Iowa Athletics)

“I’m not sure there’s another person alive who could come in and accomplish what he did in terms of turning things around, changing attitudes,” Ferentz said in a previous interview. “The impact he had, not just on the program, but the entire state was just unbelievable.”

Magical year

In 1981, Fry finally had a team that could match his marketing. With a defense that still sits among the best in school history, the Hawkeyes stopped No. 6 Nebraska 10-7 in the opener. Two weeks later, Iowa beat No. 6 UCLA 20-7.

“Gee whiz, how about that!” Fry said afterward. “We got two of the top 10. How sweet it is!”

With a 9-7 upset over defending Big Ten champion and No. 5-ranked Michigan and a 33-7 win against Purdue to stop a 20-game losing streak to the Boilermakers, Fry finally pushed Iowa to its elusive winning season.

“Waaa-hooo,” Fry yelled when he met with reporters. “Twenty cotton-picking years, and we finally did it. We had a great opportunity to fold our tent for the season after last week (a loss to Illinois) and we didn’t do it.”

Entering the regular-season finale, Iowa needed Ohio State to beat Michigan and then topple Michigan State to reach the Rose Bowl. By the third quarter, word of Ohio State’s victory reached Kinnick Stadium. The Hawkeyes crushed the Spartans 36-7 to claim a share of its first Big Ten title since 1958 and earn a trip to Pasadena.

“It was a group of young men that were very hungry, been kicked around, had a hard time,” Fry said on one of his final trips to Iowa City. “To see them win the Big Ten championship was one of the highlights of my career.

“They hadn’t had a winning season in 19 seasons and psychologically, I had a great advantage because they were easy to motivate. They were told they couldn’t win, and they were determined to show people that they could.”

Starting safety Bob Stoops, who later became a national championship-winning head coach at Oklahoma, said Fry’s motivation was what propelled the Hawkeyes to the Rose Bowl.

“He had swagger. He projected confidence,” Stoops said during an Iowa City appearance. “That’s what we needed at the time at Iowa. We’re like, ‘You know what, we can beat anyone.’ Hayden gave us that swagger and that attitude, and I’ve always remembered it.”

The Hawkeyes became a formidable Big Ten program for the rest of the decade. In 1985, Iowa was ranked No. 1 nationally for five consecutive weeks. In the first No. 1 vs. No. 2 game in Big Ten history, the Hawkeyes beat Michigan on a game-winning field goal on the game’s final play. The Hawkeyes won the Big Ten title outright and earned another trip to Pasadena. His quarterback, Chuck Long, was a two-time consensus All-American quarterback and finished second in Heisman Trophy voting that year.

“Hayden was disciplined, but he made it fun,” Long said. “There’s times you don’t want to even go to practice because it’s drudgery and it’s mundane. It was never mundane under Hayden Fry. Every day you’re like, ‘What he’s going to say next?’ You couldn’t wait to get to practice because it was so much fun. Now we worked hard. We worked extremely hard, but we always had fun. I think that’s a special trait.

“We ended with what we called a cheer. It was on the script. Cheer. C-h-e-e-r. So he gathered up the team, whether it was a good practice or a bad practice and said cheer. Led us with a story or a joke. Something funny and end on a good note every day. Regardless of how the practice went.”

In 1990, Fry took the Hawkeyes to the Rose Bowl for the final time. A year later, Iowa finished 10-1-1, the school’s best single-season record under the coach. Twice, Fry’s teams finished in the top 10 and placed in the top 25 eight other times. From 1981-91, only Michigan won more league and bowl games among Big Ten teams than Iowa.

(Wally Fong / AP)

Fry’s 143 wins were the most in school history until Ferentz passed him in 2018 and rank sixth all time among Big Ten coaches. Fry’s 96 league victories are fifth, one shy of Ferentz.

“Coach Fry probably doesn’t get enough credit for just the impact he had on this entire conference, let alone our program,” Ferentz said.

Legacy

Fry’s coaching tree is what defines him outside of Iowa. His first offensive coordinator was Snyder, the architect of the sport’s greatest turnaround at Kansas State. Alvarez, who achieved similar success at Wisconsin, coached the linebackers until 1986. Both are in the College Football Hall of Fame.

Joining them in the hall of fame one day will be Stoops, who was 190-48 in 18 seasons at Oklahoma with 10 Big 12 titles and a national championship in 2000. Ferentz coached Iowa’s offensive line and has 161 wins at Iowa. Defensive line coach Dan McCarney has the most victories in Iowa State history.

“Coach Fry would say, ‘If I had one particular skill, it was probably my ability to judge who to hire,’” said Patterson, who is one victory shy of becoming Western Illinois’ all-time wins leader. “He always famously said, ‘I won’t hire coaches who don’t have an interest in being head coaches.’ That wasn’t always true. (Defensive coordinator) Bill Brashier had opportunities to be a head coach and passed them up to stay at Iowa. I think it generally was true.”

In 2018, Mark Stoops guided Kentucky to a 10-win season for only the third time in school history. Bielema took Wisconsin to three consecutive Big Ten titles from 2010 through 2012.

“The day he retired, he came into my office and he sat and he said some really cool things,” Bielema said. “He wrote me a letter that I carry in my planner to this day and said ‘You’re a good coach, you’re going to be a head coach someday, make sure you’re prepared when you get there.’ I was crying my eyes out because the biggest mentor in my life was retiring.”

Fry’s legacy within Iowa encompasses all of his accomplishments. The football complex around Kinnick Stadium is named for Fry. In Coralville, First Avenue was renamed Hayden Fry Way. In 2009, FryFest debuted, which celebrates everything associated with Iowa athletics. In 2016, Fry’s bronze likeness was unveiled with a 6-foot statue. Fry, then 87, made his final public appearance and smiled, waved and spoke before a crowd of about 800. In typical Fry fashion, Fry offered up a quip before the statue was unveiled.

(Scott Dochterman / The Athletic)

“The main thing is, be sure you put me high enough on the foundation that the dogs can’t urinate on my shoes,” Fry said to laughs.

There never will be another Hayden Fry. Not in Iowa. Not in college football. Not anywhere.