#if i have to write one more essay its all over i will drop out im so . look fellas i wrote 7 essays this semester and i missed four | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adyophene · 2 months

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lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming

literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy

i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off

Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.

I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.

Okay. On we go!

How they met;

We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.

(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.

[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]

Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'

Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.

Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.

His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.

[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!

This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.

And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.

Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.

Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.

Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.

I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)

I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.

I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.

Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.

But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.

And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!

@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!

How they started dating;

Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.

Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.

I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme

Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.

How much it'd piss Alastor off;

In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.

And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.

#not art #this is long #like really long #like don't open it unless you want 25 paragraphs about a crackship that like 12 people ship #royalflush #lucihusk

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cemeterything · 8 months

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im curious about your thoughts, would you talk a little about the theme of gender in the terror? i just enjoy your perspective!

okay i can't promise you the properly formatted essay with footnotes and citations i would love to write given the time and energy, but sure, i'd love to. because the theme of gender is central to the terror, particularly regarding the victorian ideal of masculinity, as a part of the greater overarching narrative theme of social constructions and structures being stripped away, and what and who remains after (crozier even explicitly remarks to fitzjames at the beginning of episode 7 that the remains of their civilization which they're clinging to for a sense of comfort and stability will begin to 'fall and drop away' as they travel further). we see this not just in the case of fitzjames, whose national identity and sense of selfhood we're given some insight into through the lens of gender, both with the iconic dress scene and his subsequent choice to dress as britannia, the feminine symbol of british imperial power, for carnivale - a juxtaposition which emphasizes the contrast between his private and public personas, and between the moment of vulnerability and honest self-expression in the scene where he holds up the dress and smiles at his reflection, and the ironic mask he dons for carnivale as a shield to conceal his doubts and insecurities, and any 'shameful' desires he might have - but also, for example, in the case of collins, who in the same episode seeks out goodsir, whose emotional availability and honesty have earned him the derision of his crewmates in the forms of scornful looks and derogatory comments denouncing his mannerisms as 'womanish' and thus shameful, but which only become increasingly necessary and shared amongst more of the men as they're forced to rely more and more on one another for support, and societal expectations of how they should conduct themselves become increasingly irrelevant, their fragility exposed and found wanting. collins is rebuffed and reprimanded by dr. stanley in episode 6, who dismisses his emotional distress, but in the following episode with goodsir he's encouraged to confide in him and, upon doing so, breaks down in tears and shares a desperate hug with him in full view of their camp; actions which would have been confined to privacy if they were allowed to be expressed at all earlier on. everywhere, cracks are beginning to show in this ideal construct of masculinity that the men were once expected and so proud to uphold.

silna's presence also highlights the themes of gender, and how they intersect with race and ethnicity; she is almost exclusively referred to as a 'girl' by the men of the expedition despite clearly being both a grown women and far more competent at surviving in the arctic than they are. the empire and its subjects' unwillingness to accept that someone who is both a native to the region and a woman could be more knowledgeable and better equipped than they are to deal with the situation leads them to assert their perceived superiority through how they address and refer to her, using the infantilizing language of 'girl', which although i believe the use of was more common in victorian england than it was today, nonetheless carries these implications, particularly when it's almost exclusively the only term they use to describe her. even those men who are more open to accepting the need to rely on the knowledge and support of the indigenous peoples of the region in order to survive there, such as crozier, don't begin to realize this until it's already too late. we also see the weaponization of femininity as a badge of shame of weakness with, as aforementioned, goodsir, and with hickey when he says to gibson that he "was such a good wife to me all these months" in order to get under his skin after gibson declares their relationship to be over.

we also see this victorian ideal of masculinity physically begin to 'fall away' as the men's bodies and minds deteriorate due to the extreme conditions they find themselves in. as sickness and despair set in, the men are no longer physically able to uphold this construction they've been told their whole lives it is vitally important that they strive to maintain in all their undertakings, further compounding the horror of their experience, but also liberating them. hickey again takes advantage of this, too, demonstrating his intelligence and quick, pragmatic thinking when he castrates irving's corpse after murdering him in order to threaten the remaining shreds of the men's masculinity and inflame them into rash, reactive action. and fitzjames comes full circle in his own gender-influenced narrative when he confesses his long-carried shame to crozier, finally unburdening himself of the idea of 'james fitzjames' that he built on the foundations of that masculine ideal the society he lived in values so highly and as a result is able to let himself lean on a fellow man for support and shed tears for the first time (that we see onscreen at least), and when he asks crozier to euthanize him to help him out of his suffering in his final moments - both poison and suicide have traditionally earned a reputation as means used by 'women and cowards' to escape the brutal reality of death, but they allow fitzjames to die with as much dignity and the least amount of suffering as the at that point truly desperate circumstances allow, and far more than the more ideally masculine, imperial british glory he once aspired to of death in combat or without any medical assistance to ease his passing would have.

#WHEW #posts all this then goes back to feminizing that man (james fitzjames) and dressing her in outfits #the terror #long post #suicide mention

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tokio-motel · 9 months

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i wanna laugh and i wanna laugh rn😪

its been so long(literally a few days) since i sent smthhh

ill boost u bae dw

AHEM

mk so the whole band(um seperate fic duh) with a bf who be freakishly nice n shit(i feel like ivd sent this bf dont expose me if i did) like if a band member accidentally hit him in the face he would say sorry and say some dumb shit like "im so sorry i shouldn't have been in the way of your elbow. " like what💀💀

or if someone was trying to confess or smth he'd be like "i really don't want to hurt you but no." maybe even as a band memeber is right next to them

and arguments with this mf is probably hell like if it was a band members fault he would accidentally make them think it wasn't and it was his(sometimes its on purpose but they figure it out later) OFC these r examples use what u want🧍🏾

BAHSBDKDBDO I CANFT STOP LAUGHING ON THE FIRST ONE

THE BAND X EXTREMELY NICE READER

teehee i have an essay to write but ummmmm that doesn't matter rn 😇 uhh also if it's bad sorry idk what's going on with me

BILL:

・He's so confused how you can be nice all the time

・He really does try to be nice but he just snaps sometimes omg 💀

・He wonders when your breaking point is

・Like if he turns around carrying something and wacks your fucking face he's so confused why you're not YELLING at him

"Yeah and then- *WHACK* -OH SHIT M/N I'M SO SORRY ARE YOU OKAY?! -"

"No, no Bill I'm fine! It didn't hurt that much."

"..what."

・He just stares at you with his jaw dropped low, slowly nodding to himself

・Or like if he knocks something over and you apologize for it

(I've done that so many times...)

・Reassures you it's not your problem 🤞

TOM:

・nahh you got him FUCKED UP bae.

・He doesn't understand how you can be so nice, I feel like he's a brutally honest mf 💀

・If your in public and somebody is being rude to you and you're just kinda standing there, still staying calm???

・He's just looking at your features trying to find ONE small piece of anger or frustration

・I feel like y'all are couple opposites.

・Like he'd obviously have a soft spot for you 🤗 but he doesn't see the reason to be nice to others when he knows it's not his fault

・Arguments with him oh my god...

・If you keep apologizing and saying it's your fault he eventually sits next to you to comfort you, assuring you everything's okay.

"It's not your fault, M/N. I promise.."

・You'd somehow warm him up a bit, he barley notices himself becoming more kind and carefree.

GEORG:

・was his color green or blue omg i can't remember

・He's...so confused.

・Like if he accidentally smacks you with his elbow and you aren't crying or cursing

"M/N? M/N ARE YOU-"

"I'm okay! It just stung for a second haha..!"

"..."

・He gets you but he doesn't.

・He just can't see himself being so giddy and happy and nice.

・Anger turns into confusion in arguments, why are you so mad at yourself?

・Loves you so fucking much though, always reminding you that you are amazing and didn't do anything wrong.

GUSTAV

・AHHHH HE GETS YOU!!!!!

・He understands you so much oh my god, he just loves you even more now.

・He'd also try to keep you from blaming yourself.

・Like if he knocks something over and you apologize.

"Oh shit I'm sorry I should have moved it-"

"No honey you're fine, I should've looked where I was going.."

・MWA MWA HE LOVES YOU

・Very slightly confused on how you never snap, how you always keep calm

・He wishes he could be like you bae 💔💔

・In arguments he just tries to calm himself and you down, actually sitting down and talking about how you both feel

OH SHITTT I NEED TO DO THAT ESSAY

#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x male reader #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x male reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #georg listing x male reader #georg listing #georg listing x reader #gustav schäfer x reader #gustav schäfer #gustav schäfer x male reader #gustav schafer x reader

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trigunbookclub · 8 months

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TrigunBookclub Afterparty!

Hello there! As bookclub winds down to a close, there a few things to announce:

Bookclub Afterparty!

Bookclub may officially be over, but the Trimax brainrot continues! There are some bonus comics, the Multiple Bullets anthology (with all its great and terrible stories), and some folks have fallen behind, have essays left to write, or have things they wanted to create or share and haven't had a chance. I myself fell behind since life has been a bit hellish on my end, I'm two volumes behind--and I don't seem to bethe only one in that position!

So, I want to invite people to keep using and watching the tag until the end of October! Discuss, share theories, thoughts, art, shout-out posts and ideas that you love, just have fun! You can discuss the entire series and all related materials--hell, you can even do a read/reread it if you want to. Whatever goes, so long as it follows the guidelines.

Bookclub 2.0!

I've been talking with the @trigun-manga-overhaul team, who we all know has the best Trigun manga translation out there--but it's about to get better with Overhaul 2.0! When it drops probably next year, it will be at the pace of a chapter a week, and I plan to run the bookclub during that time to celebrate! This gives much more time for discussion, comparing, analyzing, and keeping up with posts. Since it will be a longer reading time and it's round two, spoilers will be allowed, though I will ask that they be tagged.

I also highly encourage everyone to feel free to use the tag when the hardcovers from Dark Horse are released to celebrate and discuss!

Bookclub Archive!

Since social media has a tendency to be ephemeral at best, the lovely @versaphile has taken it upon themselves to archive the bookclub posts of everyone who gives permission for them to do so! This way you can binge meta and posts and find everything much more easily. You can find the archive here, and see an example of archived posts here. If you're interested in or okay with being included in the project, please contact @trigunreferencelibrary!

Bookclub Stickers!

Multiple people have talked about wanting a badge of honor for participating in/keeping up with bookclub, and I think that might be a bit tricky... but how about some stickers? I figure that this way, the shipping is affordable even for international folks since I've seen a good amount of people around the world participating and lurking! I'm going to try and find printing for as affordably as I can (if anyone out there knows any good distributors for smaller batch sticker orders, please shoot me a DM!), and it won't be something to profit off of--just in memory of a great time! The only thing is I have two options, and I don't know if either of them are even what folks want. So...

And that's all that I can think of for now! I'm a bit exhausted and run ragged at the moment, so feel free to ask for any clarification on anything. When I started this project, I honestly didn't think I'd get many if any people following through--I know people lose their focus easily (myself included). But instead it turned into a huge celebration of a beautiful manga that is finally getting the attention it deserves after kind of getting buried by time. I've met some absolutely amazing and brilliant people throughout this event, and I just want to say thank you to every single person who made a post, supported others, and/or just lurked. You guys are fantastic and made this an amazing experience.

#Trigun #Trimax #Trigun Maximum #TrigunBookclub #I can't believe it's over ):

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faebaex · 1 year

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author note: woohoo assignments are finished so i can write again! also my first Riddle fic! i found his character quite endearing recently, i don't know why. i wanted to pair him with a more carefree, chaotic reader who'll help loosen him up since his overblot. so have some Riddle who still takes himself a little too seriously, who also doesn't understand his feelings (*≧ω≦*) i think its cute!

characters: Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

"Off with your head!!"

The familiar sound of clanging metal resounded through the air before you felt a heavy weight settle around your neck. You ran a finger along the cool metal lock as your Housewarden glared at you, cheeks red with anger.

A small laugh bubbled from your chest before you gave Riddle a huge, glee filled grin. "Thanks, Housewarden! I've always liked how the collar goes with my uniform!" With that, you spun on your heel and walked off with a skip in your step, leaving Riddle sputtering behind you.

"Y-y/n get back here! I expect a 3000 word apology essay and--"

Your good natured laugh was the only response he received, sending his face redder and redder.

Ever since his overblot incident, Riddle had been trying his best to change his ways. He tried his best to not react so violently when rules were broken, to keep cool headed when things sprung out from his control. To his credit, he had been doing quite well. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but he was able to overlook small rule breaks, and was getting better at approaching slightly more serious rule breaking offences with more composure. But there was one exception.

You.

Riddle believed you had some uncanny ability to get under his skin. At one point he even theorised that it was your unique magic. All Riddle knew was that every time he saw your carefree smile, his cheeks would flush and his stomach would twist and turn into knots.

He chalked it up to anxiety you caused him with your antics. Yes, that must be it. That was the reason that his palms would sweat every time you approached him, why his throat would tighten every time you gave him an excuse for your behaviour, why his cheeks would suddenly heat up every time he saw your cute, little smile--

Riddle startled as that rogue thought popped in his head, feeling blood rush to his cheeks at the subconscious omission. He shook his head fiercely, as if that would chase away his illicit thought. Where did that come from? Whatever, it mattered not. He was your Housewarden, and as a student of his dorm he would bring you into order.

It had been a week since he had collared you and tasked you with an apology essay, yet he had not received it. Clearly you intended to continue your unruly behaviour, and he would nip this in the bud before your actions encouraged your impressionable freshmen friends.

It did not take Riddle long to track you down. He found you in the Heartslabyul lounge, sitting on the floor with papers fanned out around you. Riddle cringed at the sight, even if you weren't breaking one of the Queen of Hearts' rules, you were certainly breaking basic dorm rules of keeping areas clean and tidy.

"Y/N."

You looked over your shoulder, a smile blooming across your face at the sight of your Housewarden standing over you. You dropped the papers in your hand, swiveling on the tile so your back was no longer to him. "Hello Housewarden! How are you today?"

"Ahem. You owe me an apology essay, Y/N. Why haven't I received it yet? May I also remind you that such mess is not permitted in the lounge area." Despite his cold response, your smile didn't shift and you reached behind you blindly, grabbing hold of the papers you were previously holding.

"Oh! I was just sorting all of my homework into order by deadline. Because I haven't been able to use magic in class, I've been assigned extra homework so I don't fall behind..." you explained, having the decency to look a bit sheepish before your smile suddenly turned a tad cheeky, "since you didn't give me an official deadline, it hasn't been a priority. Sorry!"

Riddle's previous severe expression morphed into shock. You had actually attended classes, even with the handicap of the collar? He had half assumed you'd follow Ace's lead and skip your classes in hopes of getting your collar off quicker some other way.

"See, I didn't forget!" Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you waved a piece of A4 paper, which indeed was titled "apology essay to Riddle". Riddle's eyes slid past your face to the papers in your hands, and the further papers scattered around you.

"... I'm impressed you still endeavored to attend classes," You beamed a smile at him and his cheeks flushed, "h-however, I am not willing to wait much longer for you essay. In consideration of your circumstances..." Riddle paused, his traitorous cheeks flushing further as you looked up at him with hopeful eyes, "I-i will give you one more week. By the end of that weekend, I expect your essay in my hands."

If your smile was bright before, it was absolutely dazzling now. Riddle cleared his throat and started to step backwards, planning his retreat before his thoughts betrayed him again and he risked embarrassing himself. "Of course, I trust you will manage your time effectively to ensure all homework is completed on time."

"Thank you, Housewarden! And don't worry, that's what caffeine is for!"

Riddle's step faltered and he felt affronted, quickly whipping his head around to scold you, "Do not forget that rule 153 states that only herbal tea may be drank in the evenings!" Your carefree giggle floated through the air and you sent a wink his way, and Riddle felt his ears burn. How did you manage to make him feel this way with such simple gestures? It was maddening. He quickly stormed out of the lounge before he embarrassed himself any further.

You had been working through most of the nights since your conversation with Riddle in the lounge, trying to get through your mounds of homework. Ace mocked you and Deuce sympathised, but you didn't mind so much. Sure, you didn't have any free time and you were barely getting any sleep, but you'd rather not deal with a detention from Trein, or worse - Crewel.

You had decided to set your workspace up in the library today, knowing you'd be able to get through a fair bit of your work as Ace wouldn't follow you in here, and Deuce had club activities. But there was one thing you didn't expect...

With the library being so warm, and so quiet, you weren't expecting to get so comfortable. You were fighting against your drooping eyes, constantly having to restart the line you were reading when you realised you hadn't been paying attention at all.

... Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if you took a nap. Just a little nap. Like, five minutes... Before you had even finished fully convincing yourself, you had already pushed your book back and rested your head on your arm. Yeah... You'll just rest your eyes for five minutes...

As you slept peacefully, way over the five minutes you had allotted yourself, you were completely oblivious to the person who stopped beside you and the sigh that fell from their lips. Your exhaustion played its part, as you didn't wake at the soft sound of shuffling, and didn't even twitch as a school blazer was gently laid over your sleeping form, simply cuddling into its warmth, much to the fluster of the one who laid it upon you...

#twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x y/n #twst x reader

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wannab-urs · 1 year

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Build Me Up, Buttercup | Professor!Joel Miller x Student!Reader

Summary: Reader confronts Dr. Miller about her grade in his class.

Warnings: Not much yet. Reader is of legal age, no less than 22 but not specified, she's about to graduate college. She’s an English major. This is grumpy x grumpy. Lots of snark, eyerolling, etc. Not-Quite-Enemies to Lovers. And no she doesn’t blow him to get a better grade! (I would, but reader is classy).

Word Count: 1.1k

Why Do You Build Me Up

(Buttercup)

Dr. Miller’s Foundations of Architecture class was supposed to be a fun elective for you. You could learn a little more about architecture, something that has always been a mild interest for you. You like pretty buildings and you think it’s a cool subject. It’s your last semester of college and you deserve to take something fun to fill in that last elective requirement.

You certainly were not supposed to fail the fucking class.

“He’s so rude, Cooper,” you tell your friend. Coop looks up at you over their laptop, red curls springing in every direction and glasses sitting on the tip of their nose. They’re feigning interest while they hammer away at some graphic design assignment.

“One time he made a guy who said he liked 432 Park Ave leave the class. Like just kicked him out for the rest of the day! I mean that building is awful, but still!” Coop heaves a sigh and shuts their laptop.

“Is this that hot professor you told me about or is it the one who always wears really weird outfits?”

“No! The weird outfits guy is my Chaucer professor,” you choose to ignore the first half of that question. “I have words for him too, actually. He keeps-”

“Focus! Why are you failing Arc?”

“His essays are insane! Like, this is not English class, my guy, why are you grading me so hard? I’m literally an English major! You’d think my writing would be more than acceptable for a freshman level class.”

He had given you a D on your paper about gothic architecture. You’d chosen to write about the Santa Maria del Fiore in Italy and he took off THREE letter grades because they finished the construction in the neo-gothic style… which you had made a whole section of your paper about. It’s perfectly valid. It’s not like he really gave you much to go on.

“Did you follow the prompt? Sometimes your brain takes you places the question didn’t exactly call for…” they give you a knowing look.

“This isn’t a fanfic writing challenge, Coop, I can follow a damn prompt. He doesn’t give us anything to go on at all for these essays! Or for anything else, really.”

He is the least verbose professor you have ever had. It’s honestly kind of refreshing for a man to not love the sound of his own voice, but you’re also paying him to teach you something.

“The essay prompt was literally ‘Gothic Architecture’ and the guidelines were ‘12 pages, double spaced, due March 19th.’" You drop your voice into its lowest register, mimicking Dr. Miller's deep baritone. "And that’s what I wrote!” Someone shushes you from behind a bookshelf. You’re getting a little over excited, borderline yelling in the library about this infuriating man.

“Have you tried going to his office hours?” God why are they always so reasonable?

“Have you tried going to his office hours… No. I have not. He’s rude, remember?”

“Just try it! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could drop my paper down to an F.”

“And you could report him for unfair grading practices. Go. Shoo,” Coop starts pushing your books toward your bag.

“Fiiiiiine,” you relent.

Twenty minutes later you find yourself standing in the doorway of his office. Dr. Miller is sitting behind a large wooden desk. It’s very neat, the only things on it a computer, a picture frame turned away from you, and a stack of books. Dr. Miller has one of the books open and is writing something in a notebook, brow furrowed and tongue poking out between his lips.

“Dr. Miller?” you ask hesitantly.

He doesn’t look up from his work, just lifts a hand vaguely in your direction for a second and keeps writing. You roll your eyes and look around the office. There are bookshelves lining the walls with architecture textbooks in neat rows. A few covers of Architectural Digest are framed on the wall. Is he in those?

Your eyes land back on him. He’s wearing a dark grey Fleetwood Mac shirt that looks old as hell. The collar is stretched, revealing a bit of his chest. Your eyes trace a line up the column of this throat… He has a nice neck.

You had called him your hot professor at the beginning of the semester, regardless of how you felt about him now. There’s just something about that fluffy bed head he always has, like he couldn’t be bothered to run a comb through it. And the scruffy beard laced with grey he doesn’t seem keen on trimming. And the way his mustache frames his pouty lips. And his prominent nose that looks straight out of a painting. And okay that’s enough.

“Dr. Miller, I need to talk to you.”

“M’busy,” he mumbles out, still not looking up from the textbook.

“Okay, well it’s your office hours, so technically you have to talk to me.”

“Technically, little miss, I don’t have to do anything.”

“Excuse me? Let’s not speak to grown women like they’re children, sir.” Is he fucking for real right now?

He closes his notebook and looks at you for the first time since you walked in. Probably the first time all semester. He kind of pauses when he sees you, hopefully realizing he isn’t talking to a freshman. It wouldn’t make the little nickname okay, but it would make more sense at least.

He looks you up and down and his jaw ticks, “Sit.” His eyes flick to the chair in front of his desk. You drop your bag on the floor and slide into the seat. “So. What can I help you with?”

You take a deep breath. “You gave me a D on my last paper.”

He just stares at you.

“And considering our prompt was all of 8 words, I think- I know I met the requirements and that I did a good job. It was thoroughly researched, structured well, copy and content edited, and turned in 2 days before deadline. I would like an explanation-”

“Enough,” he cuts you off. “I don’t have to justify my gradin’ decisions to you.”

You let out a frustrated puff of air. This man drives you insane. “Dr. Miller, I’m a senior. I took this class to fulfill an elective requirement and because I like architecture. I would like to understand what is so egregious about my writing that you would have me fail a class in my last semester of college.”

He considers you for a moment, meeting your eyes. He lowers his brow, screws up his mouth from side to side, like he’s thinking hard about something. “I’ll reread it.”

Not I’ll reconsider your grade, but at least it’s something. “Thank you.” You grab your bag, moving to leave, and he stops you.

“Wait!” You pause, arching an eyebrow. “What was your name again?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

“Seriously? I’ve been in your class since January. Figure it out.”

You storm out, slamming the door behind you.

A/N: This will be my first series! I'm really excited to try some actual characterization and plot, which I've never really played around with before. Constructive criticism in my DMs is always appreciated <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @wednesdayday, @whoiscaroline, @goldenhxurs, @northernwindd, @djarinxore, @worhols, @amanitacowboy, @silkiers, @4ueijos, @livinxdeadxgrl, @serenaxpedro, @huffle-punk, @elvn011, @thepriceofpepper, @lexic-22, @sunshinebtrfly, @strang3lov3, @virgogaia

#joel miller #joel miller fics #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #Joel Miller AU #Professor!Joel #Professor!Joel Miller

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ctrl-alt-vibeshift · 3 months

Text

in defense of the brat album art

my feed stopped when charli xcx dropped the album art for her upcoming sixth studio album "brat" a few weeks ago. like many angels, i was confused at first, as the image staggered out of the code on her merch site unannounced through a vinyl preorder link that originally had no image to go with it (and yes i ordered one before seeing any visuals...). even after she tweeted it, and the creative team posted about their contributions to it, questions were left unanswered. was it real? was it just a placeholder? was it an alternative cover for the brat_360 exclusive vinyl? this is not the album cover right? one angel dared ask our god in her twitter replies.

even before i got official confirmation that this was indeed the official cover, which i think came from charli's interview with vogue after the release of lead single von dutch, i was obsessed. the green: neon, but not tacky like the overdone highlighter trend already claimed by k-pop boy group nct, rather a muted, dull lime, catching your eye but not blinding you. the font: a simple sans serif, slightly condensed and elongated, nothing over-the-top or borderline illegible like the custom fonts artists usually commission. and the blur, the pixelization, the resolution, the quality (or lack thereof)—this is what really does it for me.

they're barely there, the rough, blurred edges of each letter, but once you see them you can't unsee them. the design evokes the feeling of waiting for an image to load in full quality on instagram, a youtube video playing in less than 1080p while buffering, a hi-res photo downloading from the cloud, a show or movie lagging its way into clarity on streaming services. or as oomf (@_alienmelissa) using a fan edit of von dutch lyrics put it:

(trans: lyric videos around 2008 all had fonts and backgrounds like this..........)

while thinking about the many implications of the low quality text on the cover, i read the essay "in defense of the poor image" written by hito steyerl in e-flux journal back in 2009, which perfectly put into words what i had been ruminating on:

[The poor image] mocks the promises of digital technology. Not only is it often degraded to the point of being just a hurried blur, one even doubts whether it could be called an image at all. Only digital technology could produce such a dilapidated image in the first place.

"one even doubts whether it could be called an image album cover at all," as many have due to the "poorness" of the brat art. better yet, steyerl goes on to proclaim "resolution was fetishized as if its lack amounted to castration of the author," also predicting the mass ridicule of charli for choosing and releasing such a "hurried blur" of an album art design.

regardless of what you compare it to, the low-res, early internet digital aesthetic it speaks to is something i haven't seen spoken much about. many twitter gays are up in arms about the lack of an image of charli on it, breaking her faceful cover streak (although she does hide it a bit on pop 2), and not giving them a new image to set their profile pictures to. charli has acknowledged this in the vogue interview: “I mean, as a female pop artist, what’s more bratty than not being on your album cover? Especially when there is so much pressure for women within the pop sphere to do exactly that," as well as in a tweet posted right before i started writing this:

which grimes replied to while i was writing this:

grimes scratches at what i'm getting at, but is more focused on the shock value that comes with its loud simplicity. this sentiment of breaking the feed, cutting through the visual muck and endless faces with a bold monotone color and by refusing to show face, is something i also admire. yet i think why i feel so passionately about the aesthetic value of this cover is that it offers me a respite from the overflow of high-res images mediated through the internet and onto my phone screen.

i'm so sick of the flood of iphone/digital photography, its quality increasing with each new device release. these images try too hard to replicate what they're representing, and create a false reality that many (myself included) get trapped in. we've sunken into the uncanny valley, and it's about time we claw ourselves out. i don't want to experience the physical through the digital anymore. i'd rather see all your pores when you're inches from my face than through the insane number of pixels resting in my palm. i want the images on the internet to be so obviously contained within it that there's no mistaking them for something material. i think this is why i'm such a fan of camcorder style photography and videos: like the chunky pixels surrounding "brat," they whisper i'm not real, i'm flawed technology, i will never replace the resolution of your retinas.

lucky for me, brat isn't the first artwork to do so, as there seems to be a shift back towards the materiality of the offline and the rougher edges of early internet interfaces within the broader art and design world as well. kat kitay describes this as "technoromanticism" in her essay "what's after post-internet art?" for spike magazine:

Exposed circuitry departs from the post-internet gloss typified by DIS Magazine, which shined up or hid away the ugly parts of technology. Hardware is made visible, laying bare the flow of power and information, at the same time transfiguring electronics into sacred objects.

replace DIS magazine with PC music (its audio equivalent imo) and you'll get an analogy more relevant to charli's own aesthetic journey here. the super slick black lamborghini on the cover of the vroom vroom ep has driven off, her impossibly iridescent skin on the cover of pop 2 has shed its shine, and the skyscraper she's perched on for the cover of xcx world (RIP) has long been toppled, leaving nicki minaj's gag city in its ashes. the brat cover is the antithesis to these eras.

while ecco2k croons all i wanna see is 1080p / but reality keep me on 240 on "hold me down like gravity," maybe it's time to embody the "240" of reality again. with charli teasing this record as her clubbiest to date, tapping back into her party girl roots attending uk raves in her tweens, brat offers us a chance, both visually and sonically, to embrace the blur, the sweat, the adrenaline, the tears, and of course, the poppers fumes, of a low-res life.

#charli xcx #brat #von dutch #dis magazine #pc music #drain gang #ecco2k #grimes

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ellabsprincess · 1 year

Note

you told me you wanted to write an ellie smut and i'm desperately asking you to make a college!ellie one with her underneath your desk, eating you out and trying to stay quiet because she doesn't want to disturb you while you're busy doing your homework/project 🛐

OH MY GOD MEIJI BABY YOU DESERVE THE SLOPPIEST HEAD FOR THIS ASK GOOD LORD - wanna recreate this fic? ;)

anyways thanks baby i literally RAN to go write this

enjoy loves <3 <3 <3

"stay quiet, baby"

word count: 1.2k

warnings: 18+, bit of crying (reader is a stressed college student), sub!top!ellie, dom!bottom!reader, fluff, ellie's a good gf, college au, fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink (if you're not into that then look away), established relationship, idk i think thats it

"ughh somebody kill me"

the essay you had procrastinated for weeks was finally due, and you absolutely did not want to write it. it was on a topic you had no interest in, and you just wanted to enjoy the spring weather rather than be cooped up in your dorm finishing this meaningless project.

as you laid you head on your dorm room desk and groaned and complained to yourself, you felt the desk vibrate. lifting your head up and turning your phone over, you saw a message from your girlfriend.

how's the essay going baby?

you quickly responded.

literally horribly i haven't made any progress :( i'm bored and all i wanna do is just spend time with you

want me to come over? i could help you and try to motivate you?

you knew damn well that spending time with ellie never actually helped your productivity, but the need to see your girlfriend overpowered any rational thinking in that moment.

yes please!!

i'm on my way :)

a few minutes later, you heard a familiar rap at your door. rushing up from your desk, you flung the door open and grabbed ellie in a bruising hug

"woah, missed me baby?"

you nodded into her flannel shirt. she just laughed and helped guide you both back inside your dorm. she led you back to your desk, helping you sit down while she crouched beside you.

"how can i help?"

"i really don't know," you responded. "i'm just so burnt out at this time of year and i just have no motivation to do this. i'm fucking bored of this class and i just want to spend time with you."

you felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes, and a look of concern flooded over ellie's face.

"shh baby, oh no, don't cry." she wiped away the wet streaks that had begun to adorn your face. you sniffled and she pulled you in for a quick and reassuring kiss. "i know its hard, but i promise you can do this. i believe in you and we can spend all the time together you want once this project is done, okay?"

you began to catch your breath, and the tears began to stop, thankfully, as the weight on your chest felt like it had lifted slightly.

"are you sure you want me here? i really don't want to distract you, love," ellie posed.

"no no! i promise i really want you here, you're actually helping me a lot. i think i just needed to cry and rant a bit," you reassured her.

"okay, good. i needed to see your pretty face today anyways."

her long hands stroked your thighs, and you giggled. something about the way ellie was so strong and powerful, yet she was willing to drop to her knees at any moment for you never failed to turn you on.

"you know, i think there's one more way you could help me, baby," you said, stroking ellie's hair and leaning in towards her face.

"oh really?"

"yeah, get underneath the desk for me."

ellie's pupils blew wide as she obeyed, keeping her hands steady on your thighs as she maneuvered to kneel between your legs underneath the desk.

god, you loved when your girlfriend was so obedient for you. of course, you loved her dominant side, and sometimes all you wanted was her to take control and fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name. but when she got subby? that made you go feral.

"take off my pants baby"

massaging your thighs as she made her way up to your waist, she unbuttoned your pants and slowly moved them down your legs, enjoying the new sight of your pretty white panties. she reached to pull them off of you as well, but you quickly smacked her hands away.

"i just wanna see your pussy mommy," she looked up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"no, you're gonna be a good girl and taste mommy through her panties, okay?"

she just slowly nodded before leaning in and pressing her tongue to your wet, covered folds. you sighed in relief and relaxed into your chair at the feeling of her desperate mouth on you. finally feeling the relief you had craved the entire day, a newfound sense of productivity washed over you, and an idea was born.

you reached down and grabbed ellie by her auburn hair, pulling her away from you, causing her to whine and moan.

"okay, you can take mommy's panties off now, but you can't make any fucking noise, baby. i'm gonna work on this project while you make me cum over and over, okay?"

"yes please mommy just let me taste you, please," ellie was so desperate when she was subby. it was almost pathetic how addicted she was to your taste.

"such a good girl, begging for mommy's pussy," you said, releasing her hair and allowing her to slide your soaked panties off, leaving you bare to her.

ellie wasted no time before attaching her mouth to your clit, sucking lightly and causing you to let out a near pornographic moan. her skilled tongue traced eye-rolling patterns over and over on your sensitive and throbbing clit, almost causing you to forget your project. but when she relented to move her tongue from your clit to your hole, you returned to your computer screen.

you typed out boring word after boring word, but you didn't mind, not when you had ellie's tongue fucking in and out of you at a seemingly impossible speed and causing wet and sinful noises to fill your dorm.

she was trying so hard to stay quiet, but the taste of you was so intoxicating, and ellie began to let out a few whimpers and quiet moans.

"baby, what did i say about making noise?" you corrected her. She quieted herself and muffled her noises by taking your clit into her mouth once again.

"ellie, be a good girl for mommy and put those fingers to work too," you breathed out, overwhelmed from the pleasure as you tried to keep focus on the project.

ellie obeyed and brought two fingers up to your hole, circling it before plunging them inside. you were so wet from her mouth that she easily slide in. she felt you clench around her digits and let out an accidental moan, but you let it slide because the vibration of her moan on your clit made you see stars.

the wet squelching sounds of your pussy grew louder as ellie quickly pumped her fingers in and out of you, sucking harder on your clit. you were near the edge, you knew it.

"oh my fucking god"

"yesyesyesyesyes"

"such a good fucking girl"

your praises were music in ellie's ears as you begin to lift your hips and grind against her face, desperate for release.

as ellie added a third finger, repeatedly reaching that spongey part inside you, you moaned ellie's name loudly and finally came all over her face.

catching your breath, as you felt ellie's fingers leave your quivering hole, you pushed away from your desk to find her beneath you. she had a blissed-out on her face, and her chin and mouth were still shiny from your release.

"holy fuck baby," you exclaimed, growing more aroused at the sight of your perfect subby girlfriend, on her knees and pussy-drunk for you.

"how much of the project do you have left?" ellie asked.

"a few more paragraphs?"

"then let me taste that pretty pussy again."

#ellie williams smut #college au #fluff #smut #ellie williams #tlou2

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stardustizuku · 1 year

Text

PART 5: The Core of Everything and Why Thomas is BAD

As I said.

The moment I realized that this show was losing its footing, was when they started to mess up Mairinette.

The moment I realized this was going to be bad show, was when they messed up the Love Square.

The moment I realized this show was going to mess up the Love Square, was the introduction of Rena.

But.

That’s not when I dropped the series. That’s not when I became disillusioned with it. Because, as I said, I could overlook that.

I don’t care, as far as this essay is concerned, if it’s a good or bad show. I don’t care if it has cringey writing. I don’t care if it’s a mess.

What I care about, is how it treats the magical girl genre. What it borrows from it, how it interprets it, and what it transforms it into as a westernization of the genre.

That’s what this is about.

The moment it fucked over the magical girl genre, was when they destroyed Chloe.

People have a variety of different opinions on Chloe. Hate her, love her, think she’s wasted potential, think she’s a villain beyond redemption.

But the mere fact, we can all think about her and have an opinion, proves she was the best thing the show ever had going for itself.

Not because she was likable, but because it spoke. It dared to say something. That something being good or bad, it’s irrelevant to this point.

It said something. For the first time, since the fucking series debuted, Miraculous Ladybug dared to say something. Make a bold statement.

I think we can all agree that the show was trying to do something with her. It build her up through many episodes as a sympathizing character.

I did have my suspicions that it was going to fumble her arc, when a lot of the time these small details of her character got introduced - just to be dismissed by the narrative a few episodes later.

She was always back to being a villain and acting in reprehensible ways, even when previous episodes attempted to give her character growth.

But, I truly wanted to believe. I kept trusting this show. Over and over again. Because it was finally, finally, saying something. And most importantly, it finally touched the core of Magical Girls.

But everything crumbled away when Mayura happened.

Marinette never gave Chloe a miraculous back again. And while she claims it was (mostly) because she’s not someone Marinette trusts, someone who reveled her identity to the world…I don’t buy it.

(Also sorta weird that Ladybug is the one who forbids it when it Chat Noir who continued to seek Chloe as Queen Bee, and it was his choice but…we know how Ladybug never treats Chat as equal at this point)

Time and time again Chloe showed she is very willing to help. Yeah, sure, she is not good at it. But it was also showed that her not being able to be good was linked to the neglect she suffered as a kid.

I mean, she couldn’t remember someone’s birthday because her own mother forgot hers. This clearly upset her. She wanted to care for Mrs Bustier’s birthday, but her own trauma was making it extremely difficult. And in an attempt to to rid herself of the guilt, she lashed out.

That’s a realistic way in which hurt people, hurt others.

But she also proved that, if given a chance, she is more than willing to resist those urges to hurt others. In Miraculer, she fights off an akuma. She wants to be Queen Bee, she wants to believe in Ladybug.

While her trauma makes her prone to lashing out to others, by having Ladybug in her life as a role model, she wants to be better. She wants to heal. She wants to be a hero.

In a GOOD series, this is a way of proving the MC that not everyone who is annoying or a missy, or has a different attitude than Hers, is a bad person. That are people who are willing to do good, if given the chance to do good.

But this is not a good series.

The reason behind this…can’t call it anything other than insulting take, is that Thomas claimed in various tweets that “bullies can never be heroes”.

This was the last straw for me.

I truly do believe I snapped and it was the moment I stopped watching the series altogether. This is spitting on the very sacred name of Magicals Girls and everything that came before it.

Never mind that Chloe is a neglected teen - this is show inspired by magical girls. Name ONE magical girl anime where the girl who’s kinda mean to the MC but WANTS to do better - is shown to actually be cruel.

None.

Princess Tutu has Rue.

Shugo Chara has Utau.

Sakura Card Captor has Mei.

Sailor Moon has - well not girl but Fisheye -.

Mermaid Melody has Sara.

Mermaid Melody PURE has Michelle.

Madoka has Homura.

Lyrical Nanoha has Fate.

Pretear has Mayune and Mawata.

Tokyo Mew Mew has Mint AND Zakuro-

THIS IS THE CORE OF THE MAGICAL GIRL GENRE

I don’t know WHO in the name of FUCK does Thomas think he is to imply he knows more about this genre than the women who created it. But he always hides under the defense of “this is a little girls show for little girls and they need to have a positive role model”

It’s not.

I have already said that Marinette herself has failed as a protagonist. Not only is she unlikable, she fails to represent anything. She fails to stick to a theme, she fails as both a role model and a flawed character.

And it speaks to me about Thomas incredible misogyny how he keeps treating this genre as nothing more than excuse to fulfill his thinly veiled fetishizes and power trips.

He has no right to be in show linked to the genre of Magical Girls, or anything related to its westernization.

Magical girls are about forgiveness. They’re about kindness and the power of perceived feminity. It’s about offering a helping hand, when the world is cruel to you. A magical girl doesn’t raise her sword first. She talks. She asks. She feels. And only after all has been exhausted, she fights.

It’s something you can’t get in media catheter to other demographics, where kindness and love is seen as weak or corny.

If a girl wants to be better, it doesn’t matter what she did before. She is allowed a second chance.

Even in Madoka, the “darkest” magical girl - she saves every girl who wanted to do better. She stopped them from becoming witches, because they didn’t want to. But they were forced to. Forced to become horrible monsters, until someone killed them. But Madoka saved them.

The fact is, even other children’s show about, borrowing or alluding to Magical Girls touch upon this theme.

Have Star and Eclipsa for example. Eclipsa is a person who’s done everything wrong in the book of Mewni magic. Even when she herself and narratives admit she has done wrong things, it still brings forth the main issue. She was hurt too. Her family was taken from her, her baby, her husband, her Royal linage, her magic, her own history got erased and rewritten. She’s shown as someone who did bad things but ultimately who meant well. In the end, she is granted by Star redemption. By giving her her child, and her wand back.

Steven Universe touches upon it too, via all the other gems that are from Homeworld, mainly Peridot and Lapis, who despite having a hard time, after getting kicked out of Homeworld, make an honest attempt to integrate into Earth

As I’ve said, She-Ra is perhaps the best integration of Magical Girls into western children’s show. The way they handle Catra is the perfect example of why I say that. She is the best example of someone who wants to do good but can’t because of the trauma she’s faced. She’s extremely sympathetic but her actions are undoubtedly wrong. Even so, Adora’s adversion is never towards Catra, but Catra’s action. Because she knows she’s a good person, but until she admits fault and asks for help - she can’t really help her. Even if she tried (and she did) Catra would simply lash out. This drives home the message “you can’t save or help does who do not want to be saved or helped” but it also reinforces to girls the idea that - no matter how late your change of heart is, that’s all you need. Admit your mistakes, try to do better, and you’ll find a place where you’re truly happy.

But, if you wanted a slightly more cynical look at it - we have the Owl House

That’s one of the few that say “some people are straight up evil, don’t try to sympathize with them or they’ll trick you”. Belos is bad news, period. No matter how human he may appear to be, he’s far more of a monster than the witches he hates. But that’s an adult man.

The teenagers around Luz’s age are just that. Teens. Amity is not a monster, Hunter is not a monster. And Boscha is annoying but not a monster either. Nor is she irredeemable. In fact, she’s portrayed in the last season as more of a lost child without Amity’s mean girl guidance. Yeah, she’s a mean girl but she cares for her friends, she misses them and cries when she reunites with them. That said, for every Boscha we had, we also had an Amity, a Mathomouel, and a Hunter. Three other mean or bully characters that were shown to be secretly good or with the need of nothing more than a push in the right direction to become good.

(Also, side note but if you’ve noticed, Magical Girl stories are extremely intertwined with queer stories. I do find it extremely odd that MLB never touches on any queer main story - aside from Marc and the subtext of Rose and Juleca. Which again, subtext. Most westernizations of magical girls make it explicit and risk cancelation over it. All more to say that the creators of MLB have a complete disregard and outright contempt to the genre they’re stealing from, if this is as far as they’d go.)

Their attitude towards Chloe, in comparison, is nothing short of petty.

Why would Chloe be beyond sympathy? Beyond empathy? Beyond an attempt to a second chance?

If she truly showed that she’s remorseful, if she truly tried to become better, why would a man like Thomas deny her that simply because “bullies can never be heroes”?

BULLSHIT. That’s a terrible terrible message to send to kids. We all want to believe the ones watching are perfect girls who get bullied and have never done anything wrong - but a lot of them aren’t. And you’re essentially telling them “if you made bad choice in the past you’ll never be a hero. You’ll never be good enough”

You’re hurting little girls. You’re hurting this genre.

THIS IS WHY CHLOE MATTERS. This is why I dropped the series when I did.

Instead of saying something important with Chloe, it doubled down and said “actually she’s a monster” even when it was shown she could be good, that she could be better.

And maybe I could understand it, if they hadn’t introduced Zoe.

She’s seen by the creators as a “watered down version” of Chloe. They realized Chloe was actually a good addition but they didn’t like how she was too much of a bully or too mean. So, instead of dealing with their flawed compelling character, they make a “nicer” version of her.

Yeah Zoe was mean but she was mean once (1) and because of Chloe’s pressure.

Which is. Bad. Writing wise.

Not because the message is bad but because it’s hypocritical. Why should one be praised for being mean because of peer pressuring but stopping - while the one doing it to impress her family, her mother, and trying to stop, be considered bad? Because one gave up the “mean” act sooner?

Again, terrible message. Healing and becoming a better person isn’t as quick as talking once to someone. It takes time, it takes effort, it takes work.

Why is someone who doesn’t struggle with being a good person be “better” than someone who tries to be good even when it doesn’t come naturally to them? Not to mention, by the point in time, Chloe was not only hurt by her mother’s neglect but Ladybug’s neglect. It makes sense she’s mean to others, she’s known nothing but neglect and abandonments from the people she looks up to.

Is it that weird she treats everyone she sees as below her as disposable, when the people SHE looks up to sees her as disposable?

Chloe deserves sympathy, if not forgiveness at least a chance to understand her.

The fact that Thomas spat on the very core of THE Magical Girl Genre. Shows what he is. An old dude, who THINKS he knows what little girls want. Who thinks a woman who was mean, is an evil creature that knows no remorse, and deserves to be hated forever. Not forgiven, or handed a second chance. But despised.

He is the type man that pollutes the genre. Who thinks he knows, but really no one wants him here.

Fisheye isn’t a a girl, but because of the LatinoAmerican dub I grew up believing he was. And his interactions with Usagi, to this day, left an impact on me bigger than you can imagine. Fisheye was someone who constantly made fun of Usagi, who was a villain in every sense of the word. They kept constantly trying to steal Mamoru from Usagi and made fun of her on the way out.

But Usagi, when she say how down and heartbroken FishEye was - she cheered them up. She invited them to her house. Shared with them her dream. In the middle of poor Fisheye having an existencial crisis over being nothing more than a creature without dreams, Usagi offered a helping hand and comforted them.

Because Usagi cannot leave someone crying alone. She recognizes that Fisheye is a bit mean, but just like Rei, secretly cares for others. In the end, Fisheye sacrifices themselves to save Usagi. They cry when Usagi’s dreams get shattered, horrified but finally understanding why dreams are important.

It sounds silly, but it changed my brain chemistry. Something inside me recognized at my 12 years old that you have to be kind. Because you never know what the other person is going through, because you never know the impact your kindness can have on others.

And this is why I love Magical Girls so much, why I love Sailor Moon so much.

Yet.

What this show did to the genre I love, it’s…it’s plain unforgivable.

ML is bad. For a number of reasons. But it fails to be what it promised to me. It failed me on the first day. And I still stuck with it. Because a lot of western series failed me on their initial take of a Magical Girl.

Star Vs wasn’t best. Steven Universe didn’t borrow enough. She-Ra’s transformation left much to be desired.

But they all gave me something. And what’s most important, it held its core belief.

“Women can help one another. And kindness isn’t weakness”

Miraculous isn’t that.

It disappointed and hurt me, because it believes the exact opposite. Marinette only cares about Adrien, and cares little for other women. She is antagonistic for any girl who shows interest in him.

In her eyes, kindness isn’t a priority. Her friends and teammates are all people she chose, not those who she had to learn to love and fight alongside with.

If She-Ra’s last season is the culmination of everything a Magical Girl should be in the west. Miraculous is the exact opposite.

It doesn’t only fail as a show. It doesn’t only fail as a Magical Girl show. It borrowed every last thing it had from the genre.

And once it was popular, it spat on it.

Miraculous ladybug hates magical girls. And honestly,

I hate it too.

PREV << MASTERLIST >> NEXT

#miraculous ladybug #magical girls #mlb salt #mlb critical #this is one hell of an emotional analysis

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prettymrswright · 1 year

Text

Harlem Nights

pairing: rosalie otterbourne x black!fem!reader

background: as a singer and musician growing up in the heart of New York, you constantly had people, places, and things to be inspired by. every chance you could, you were finding places inside those rooms you always desired to be in. there was nothing more you wanted to do but perform. most of your family wouldn’t be so ecstatic about your ‘unrealistic’ and ‘unstable’ ambitions. But you knew deep down that you had what it takes. You’d soon travel down to Harlem’s hottest club of the early 20th century, ‘The Cotton Club’, and an interaction with one of your inspirations would change the trajectory of your life, forever.

content: fluff, flirting, playful banter, intimacy. a lot of sweetness + sass. warmth. little explicit language.

word count: 6k

authors note: 2nd fic down. this one was very fun to create, making it fitting to the time. I have such a sweet spot for Rosalie, I had to dedicate this one to her and all her glory. as a singer and musician myself from NY, this was very special for me. I hope y’all smiling and blushing because I was smiling and blushing writing it! enjoy. p.s. chile i kinda wanna make a part two, this was teaaaa.

taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @saintwrld @verachii @ventingfanfics @abenomeiiii @vampzxi @shuriszn @dejaonline @mysticalmarss @shurislover @msplayas @naomis-daydream @sweetalittleselfish-honey

pinned to my page is my new taglist form. if you wanna be tagged in specifics, go fill that joint out! thank you. (i also have an opt out option for those who no longer want to be tagged if they already are). <3

A warm, summer rain pitter-pattered across the glass of your bedroom window as you began cleaning up your space. It was a comfy afternoon, almost evening, the sun peaking through the clouds and beaming down on the town, preparing for its set. It was gorgeous outside. And despite it's rather saturating nature, many people were outside on their front porches. There were so many things to do in Harlem. So many places to see. And yet you felt you could die of boredom. If you weren't busy cleaning or babysitting the neighbors kids, you were receiving a 15-page verbal essay from your mother about how dangerous the city was and how 'there ain't nothing in Harlem but drugs, scams, and prostituting!'. I mean sure it could be dangerous at times. But where in the world isn't? You just knew that as much as there were frights, there were sights. Opportunity was left and right in this town. All your favorite artists and musicians grew up right here, and you wanted to join that list.

“Alright, Y/N/N,” your mom began, putting on her jacket, grabbing her things, and approaching your bedroom door. I’m off to work. Remember to drop the evening papers by Miss Jeanine after you finish cleaning. And no clubs!”

You sighed with immediate annoyance. “But Ma—“

“No butts!” She warned sternly. “Unless it’s yours in that bed there, immediately after. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You respectfully reply, feeling defeated.

You were 21, soon to be 22, but Mother didn’t believe in ‘legal adult decision making’. As long as you were her child and under her roof, you complied by her rules. You understood her always being protective over you; You even appreciated it. But at this moment and time of your life, it felt more like a hinderance than anything else.

“Alright now. I’ll see you later. I love you,” she says on her way out.

“Love you too Ma,” you reply faintly, and with that, the door shuts.

You fall back down on your bed behind you, with a big exhale, staring up at your popcorn ceiling. It was such a lovely day. You should be somewhere dancing, or hanging with your best friend Josephine. Even watching the neighbors kids wouldn’t be so bad right now. At least you’d be out in the backyard.

Tonight was also one of hottest summer nights to be at the Cotton. Billie Holiday, Ma Rainey, and Salome Otterbourne were all performing. It was certain to be a full house, for sure. The three black female jazz pioneers were on tour, and this would be the only time in a while that anybody would be able to see them all perform in one night. Dozens of people even travel from out of state on nights like these. That also meant that there’d be a bunch of travel scouts and agents, waiting on more talent to grab and take under their wing. You were nauseated at the thought of even missing it for a moment.

You got up to finish your cleaning, and halfway through, you heard the door open and shut, followed by a familiar voice that you knew and loved so much.

“Why the long face, sugar?” It asked, making sure you’d turn around to see their smile.

“Grandpa!” You ran to him with open arms, beaming with joy.

Your grandfather was your best friend. Since you were a little girl, he took you under his wing. Your dad left to pursue his music dreams when you were younger, so your grandfather was also the Dad you never had. He always spoke life into you, and made sure that no matter what, you knew that you were capable of any and everything. He also instilled you with the unwavering confidence to back that. Grandpa’s think-pieces were like gold. He was very wise, and had been through it all. He’d always say:

'Don’t let anybody take you for a fool! Not even me!' And laughed. But he was serious. "What's going on? Lorraine got you in this house cleaning all day again?" He says in your defense, as he often does. You let out an exhausting puff of a sigh before plopping back down on your bed. "Yea Pop. As usual." You shifted your body towards him and stared at the ground in deep thought, pausing before continuing. "I mean, life has got to be a little more exciting than this, don't it?" He laughed a low, hearty chuckle. "There's always more excitement, Y/N/N. You just gotta find it. Don't wait for opportunity, create it!" He says affirmably, allowing you to comfortably reveal what you've been thinking about all week. "I really wanna go to the Cotton tonight, Grandpa. Salome Otterbourne is performing tonight! And a bunch of other singers and talents and--well--I'm gonna be here, missing it." You look down and fidget your thumbs around each other. "Well why don't you go?" He asks. "You know Mama don't want me around no clubs, Pop. Besides, I told her I would take the evening papers down to Miss Jeanine." You reply in slight aggravation. "Ohhh," He scoffs and waves his hand down in dismissal. "Don't let that child stop you. I'll take the papers down to Jeanine." Your eyes lit up in pleasant surprise and excitement. "Oh you will?!" "Don't worry about it." He says, a confident smirk creeping onto his face. "Go on and enjoy yourself. I don't know where Lorraine gets all that strictness from anyway. Me and Betty ain't raise that child like that. Besides, she's seen and DONE worse." You both share a big laugh. "Thanks Grandpa. You're the best!" You jump up and wrap your arms around the big guy, holding the embrace for a while. "Anything for my favorite granddaughter." He says jokingly. "I'm your only granddaughter, Grandpa." You reply giggling. "I know. Now gone and figure out what you're going to wear. I hear that Mrs. Otterbourne is looking for another back up vocalist for her band." He tells you as if he just revealed the world's biggest secret. You, performing with Salome Otterbourne and her band. Your stomach turned and the mere thought of it. You kissed your Grandpa on the cheek before rushing to the bathroom to get ready for your highly anticipated night. Your mind rushed with all the possibilities of the night's events. You'd be in the same room with people and experiencing things you've once only dreamed of. Intimidating it was, but your desire to even just be in that energy was bigger. .. After lotioning up and powdering down, you slipped on a cool lavender silk midi dress, with spaghetti straps and a flowy, skirt-like bottom. You leaned into the mirror of your vanity, shaping up your thin brows, rolling on your winged liner, and coating your lips with a nude pink gloss, a shade brighter than your natural lip color. You used your same liner to add your infamous faux face moles; one above your lip, one at the tip of your nose, and one at the top corner of your cheek bone. You placed two diamond stud earrings into your ears, decorated your left wrist with a rose gold watch, and clamped your custom microphone necklace around your neck, gifted by your Grandfather. Lastly, pulling your look together, you peel off your bonnet and hair net, coat your fingers with oil, and take out each of your curls, wrapped around perm rods. You fluffed and shaped your hair into its short, curly and tapered state, much like Sheila Guyse. You stood and wrapped your mesh shawl around your shoulders. You walked over to your tall, door mirror and scanned your body, turning each angle, before spritzing your figure with Blue Grass, by Elizabeth Taylor. You always put effort into your look, but tonight was definitely a little extra. You needed to look and feel the part. Like you belonged there, just with everyone else. You grabbed your white clutch hand purse, matching your white pumps before walking out to the living room. "So," you say to your Grandfather, doing a quick and excited 360. "How do I look?"

"Oh, Y/N," Grandpa says swiping across and covering his mouth to conceal his emotional expression. "You look beautiful. Just like your grandmother." Grandma has passed when you were 7. You had faint memories of her. But one thing you did remember, was how madly in love your Grandfather was. You always said you'd want to be loved just like that when you were older. All the family would constantly remind you of how much you looked like her, and even carried a lot of her personality traits.

"Thanks, Pop." You reach down to hug him and wipe his tear before stepping back and giving him an 'It's okay' smile. "Alright, I'm heading out!" "Alright now, have fun and be safe! Be back by 11, and please, don't give your mother anymore reasons to kill me." He says, almost pleading. "You got it, Pop." You chuckled and walked out the door, closing it tightly behind you. You looked out at the busy block and took a deep sigh before walking down your porch steps and strutting down the street, on your way to the Cotton.

When you arrived, the scene was just like you imagined, only even bigger. Bright lights cascaded from all around the venue, and herds of people were beginning to gather. Cars were beeping and honking, forcing to navigate through traffic with all these people taking up the area, many cars stopping just to see what was going on. Above your head were the list of household names making an appearance tonight. Men and women all throughout the area were dressed up in their absolute best. Valet was working overtime & security was tight. It felt like something out of a movie.

You staggered in front the building, and before you knew it, it was your time to walk in. It was no turning back now.

There was a warm, dim but radiant tone to the room. You seen pimps, hustlers, singers, showgirls, every type of personality you could imagine.

Sounds of bass, saxophones, and pianos filled up the club with a soothing but strong undertone. You walked in, looking around in awe at the set up. The seats were almost filled. You were certain you had to sit in the back, but you didn’t mind. Being in the room was enough. Just as you turned to go back, you spotted your best friend Josephine, sitting in front with an older gentlemen.

“Y/N!,” She called out to you, waving you over and patting the seat next to her.

“Girl!” Overwhelm with excitement, you almost run to where she was and accepted her seat offer. “What are you doing here!”

“I didn’t tell you?” She questions. “My Uncle Johnny is playing bass for Mrs. Holiday. I tried calling to invite you, but your mom said you were busy.”

Typical mother. You really wish she’d stop answering for you. You rolled your eyes, but decided not to build on it.

“Oh, well good for him!” You say with sincerely, with a bright smile.

The two of you briefly caught up before the lights dimmed and the announcer came out to direct what would be one of the most riveting moments of your life.

A few acts had already performed, and you were completely enamored. Jazz and blues were your absolute favorite genre, but to hear it live and in person in all its emotion and vulnerability was euphoric. It was life changing. Entertained you were, but all in all, you felt a strong confirmation. You were certain that this was the path you wanted to take. Every strum of string, every note belted, sent chills down your spine. Singing and performing, especially with a live band felt so natural. It felt warm and welcoming— like a warm fudge brownie with cold ice cream on top. The contrast was clear, but together it went so well.

“And now ladies and gentlemen,” The announcer began. “I present to you, singer, musician, and hit phenomenon, Salome Otterbourne!”

He disappeared into the curtains, his presenting arm being the last thing to disappear as Salome approached the stage from the other end. The crowd erupted; cheers, claps, whistles. You turned to grab Josephine's wrists, that were wrested in her lap, the two of you looking at each other and exchanging an excited squeal. She was stunning. She stood tall above the silver microphone on its stand, wearing a powdered pink blouse and skirt set, with a hat and a flowered wrist garnish to match. She had on white silk gloves, covering the hands that held the stand, one up high and one down low, close to her lips and she began to sing her rendition of Bessie Smith's Tain't Nobody's Bizness If I Do. There ain't nothing I can do, or nothing I can say That folks don't criticize me But I'm goin' to do just as I want to anyway And don't care if they all despise me If i should take a notion To jump into the ocean 'Tain't nobody's business if I do, do, do, do If I go to church on Sunday Sing the shimmy down on Monday Ain't nobody's business if I do, if I do

She sang every word as if she wrote it herself. It was fitting, seeing that Salome was a confident, self-assured woman. You looked around to scan her band. There were two guys on strings. Another on the sax. One on trombone. And to the left of Salome, the pianist. A woman. She was the only other woman on stage besides the main singer, and she was playing for her. It was rare to see female musicians. And not only was she playing piano, but she was singing backup as well. She was gorgeous. She had pretty, cinnamon brown skin, narrow, sparkly eyes, and the prettiest smile you ever saw. She was on the taller side and had a slim but sturdy frame. Her hair was in a pin-curled bob, parted to the side, accentuating her sharp jaw structure. "Who is that?" You semi-whispered to your friend, intrigued. "That's Rosalie Otterbourne." She leaned in and whispered back, eyes still glued to the stage. "Salome's niece, if I'm not mistaken." "Oh." You reply back. The only thing you could say really. She was breath-taking, and seemingly just as talented as her aunt. As the song continues, she briefly averts her attention the crowd and her eyes are met with yours. Stopping and holding her gaze for a second, fingers still tap dancing with the instruments keys, she slightly tilts her head and flashes you a smile. You felt your heart begin to take on an unfamiliar arrangement of beats. Taken aback, you sheepishly smiled back, shakily lifting up your hand to give a small wave. She acknowledges it before returning her attention to her piano and back at Mrs Salome as they join in on the next verse. If my friend ain't got no money And I say, "Take all mine, honey" 'Tain't nobody's business if I do, do , do do If I give him my last nickel And it lives me in a pickle 'Tain't nobody's business if I do, If I do

“Holy shit, Y/N/N,” Josephine tugs at your side. “I think she just smiled at you.”

Okay so she saw that too. Surely it wasn’t for me directly. She was being courteous to her audience.

As the song came to an end, the crowd erupted once again.

“How y’all doing tonight New York? Y’all good?” She asks scanning out to the crowd. When answered by more cheers and whistles, she continued. “Alright, that’s what Salome Otterbourne like ta hear!”

“Tonight is a very special night for me. I’m back home and I have to say you all make me feel so welcomed.” She says with a sassy smile. She proceeds to introduces all the members of her band, leaving her for the end.

“And last but certainly not least, on the piano and back ground vocals, my lovely niece, manager, brain and backbone, Miss Rosalie Otterbourne!” She stands tall and blows a few two-handed kisses out across the room and seals her welcome acceptance with a big warm smile. For whatever reason, in the moment, it felt as if time stood still.

Time progressed as Salome and her band finished out their set. You were sad to see it end so soon. It was such a beautiful arrangement of music. People began to scatter; some leaving, some going to the bar, some going to dance. Some even went to ask for autographs and things of that nature. After awhile the chaos began to subside, and there Salome and her team was, alone, packing their things. You wondered if it was your time to approach. Even if she didn’t get to hear you sing, at least you could express to her how much her music quite literally saved you. As all these different thoughts browsed through your brain, your best friend, Josephine, took a page out of its catalog, as she often did, turning to say,

“Look there go Salome and them, finally by themselves. You should go say something!" She exclaimed, mid-chew of her olive that previously rested in the middle of her martini glass. You began to get sheepish. You had thought the same, but you now you were unsure. "Say what, Jose?" She turned to face you completely. "I don't know, but make your existence known. Tell her you sing or something!" "Yeah," you scoffed. "And embarrass myself?"

"Now, don't start that mess," She began, ready to get you together, as she often did. Not to mention she was the only one who could besides your grandpa. "You and I both know you're just as talented as anybody on that stage. And we always both know that you aren't shy." She was right. Being nervous about meeting an idol was regular, but you had prepared yourself for this moment over a million times. But you weren't sure why this specific time had you tucking your tail. "Besides," she continued. "Maybe you could introduce yourself to that pretty gal, Rosalie." She flashed you a smirk. Your eyes grew so wide they almost popped out of their sockets. Josephine could read you like a book. You never discussed or confessed aloud of your feelings toward other women. Not because you were ashamed, but you felt much like the song; ain't nobody business if I do. You choked out a breathy, nervous chuckle before you could began to speak. "Wha--" "Oh, save it. Now go!" She gave you a small but hefty push towards the direction of the stage. You stumbled forward, looking back to grill your best friend before straightening out your dress, dusting yourself off, and taking a deep breath. With that, you took all the confidence you did in that moment and used to it fuel your feet's motion toward the front of the stage. You'd been up there for all of maybe ten seconds before you were spotted. Her loud and heavy laugh drifting from off the end of her last sentence to her bandmate, she turned around from her kneeled position and gave you a small smile. "Hey Sugar. Can I help you?" "Oh n-no Miss Otterbourne I jus--" she shook her head and cut you off mid-sentence. "Please, child, Salome is just fine." You half-smiled at her correction. "Well, Salome. You were phenomenal tonight. Your voice and your arrangements are just what jazz has been missing." You say to her sincerely, hand in hand. "Aren't you sweet," She chuckles at your sincerity. "Well thank you, Sugar. I've worked hard for my sound. You know what they say, you want something done right --" "Do it yourself." You both say simultaneously and you laugh. "I'm with you on that one." You were pleasantly surprised how down to earth she was. "This is exactly why I'm in charge of keeping things together. Auntie where'd Ernie put that cas--" Rosalie came out from behind the stage, stopping mid-sentence once she'd seen you. "Who's this?" She points, asking what of your presence as if you weren't standing right there. You mentally laugh at her rudeness, knowing she didn't purposely mean to do it. "I'm Y/N." "She came to tell us how much she liked the show." Salome helped you finish your introduction. "Is that right," She asks rhetorically, raising her eyebrows, intrigued. "What part striked you the most?" You felt a wave of vibrations flow through your abdomen, immediately thinking of the glance the two of you shared in the midst of the performance. "W-well, I really enjoyed your rendition of T'aint nobody's business. I could relate on personal levels, but I felt that you could too. Especially that bridge. Salome, your vibrato is unreal. And with your tone, Rosalie, it blended perfectly." The singer and her accomplice looked at you with impressed eyes. "Well, well. That's some very specific terminology, Miss Y/N. Are we speaking to a fellow musician?" Rosalie asks, eager to hear your response. "Yes. A singer." You chose the confident route. You wanted to continue their interest. "Really?" Salome says matter-of-factly. "Well let us hear something, sugar!" You were having a hard time grasping that this was reality. You lived in the R.E.M part of your brain, playing out the different scenarios that would lead you to an interaction like this, but you never thought it'd be so soon. "You sure?" You ask honestly. "I know you're a busy woman." "Nonsense. Salome leave when Salome gets good and ready." She reassures you, speaking about herself in the third person once again.

"And if your voice is as pretty as you are, then we're in for a treat." Rosalie says, tossing a wink in your direction.

You felt a lump in your throat begin to form and hurriedly swallowed to force it to subside. You felt your cheeks began to heat up like a stove. Receiving a compliment was one thing, but receiving one from a woman of Rosalie's stature, successful, pretty, and poised, was another. You tried your hardest not to let it phase you, but you couldn't help but to let a flattered smile creep onto your face.

You briefly turned around to find your best friend across the room, smiling and giving you two thumbs up.

The band's bass player came over to take your hand and help you up the stage steps, directing you to where the mic was, still plugged in and hot.

Rosalie walked over to her piano and removed the cover she had just recently placed.

"Any preferences?" Rosalie asked.

"The Very Thought of You." You answered confidently, knowing how well the song complimented your voice. "Do you know it?"

"Billie Holiday." She says with a smile, proving her knowledge. "Like the back of my hand."

"Let's do it." You say, ready to take advantage of your moment.

Rosalie began fingering through the keys of her piano, playing up the intro of the song. As the melody began to fill up the venue, the people who remained in the building all focused their attention to the stage. You closed your eyes, let in a huge breath of air, and began to sing.

The very thought of you

And I forget to do

Those little ordinary things

That everyone ought to do

I'm living in a kind of daydream

I'm happy as a queen

And foolish though it may seem

To me that's everything

In this moment, it was you and the melodies that filled your ears alone. You sang just as you would if you were home in your room. Your voice was smooth and velvety. It could serenade you to sleep, or it could fill you with emotion. It was soft, two octaves away from breathy. It was easy to be attracted to your voice alone.

The mere idea of you

The longing here for you

You never know how slow the moments go

Till I'm near to you

I see your face in every flower

Your eyes in stars above

It's just the thought of you

The very thought of you, my love

You glanced in Rosalie's direction, secretly searching for a reaction, and was met by a dazed stare and watery eyes. Even outside of her usual, self-assured nature, she was so beautiful. You wondered what thoughts were flying through her pretty head.

You walked over to the piano and sat at the edge, close to Rosalie, and finished out the song beautifully, never breaking eye contact with her.

I see your face in every flower

Your eyes in stars above

It’s just the thought of you

The very thought of you, my love

Rosalie scanned your face with adored eyes as she played out the outro. You held your gaze, adlib-ing out the rest of the song and began to get lost in the pool of her pretty, chocolate brown eyes. The eruption of the crowd before you is the only thing that broke you from the hypnosis she placed you in.

You stood up again in front the crowd, placed your hands on your heart and gave a bow. You were so proud of yourself and simultaneously stunned. They loved you. The crowds reaction just confirmed all those nights you journaled about feeling called to be in the limelight. In the distance you could see Josephine, practically jumping up and down, mouthing “That’s my girl!”

It was a long, loud applause and standing ovation. At this point, people were beginning to get curious about who you were and where you even came from. With that, the cat-calling also began.

“Hold on, where you from, baby?!“ One man shouted.

“Can I take you home?” Another one followed.

You were too starstruck by your own self to be annoyed by men and their ignorance. In fact, it humored you in this moment. Once the crowd begin to subside, Salome ran up to you.

“Well I’ll be damned!” She says, clasping her hands together. “Sista you can blow!”

Nods and sounds of approval were given by the rest of the crew.

“Says you!” You say brightly. “Thank you, Salome. And thank you for allowing me to sing on your stage.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” She says, leaving you with slight confusion. “What does the rest of your weekend look like?”

Cleaning. Possibly babysitting. Absolutely nothing exciting.

“Nothing much, really.”

“Well, I have a couple more stops to make and perform at before we get back on the road. I want you to come perform with me.” She says sincerely.

You were there with a stunned look on your face. You were at a lost of words, and when you finally find them, they come out more blunt than you expected, “Quit playin’.”

The older woman laughed. “Serious as a heart attack, Sugar. Leave your home number with Rosalie, and stay by the phone. We have business to discuss.” She walked off to other side of the stage. You had to conceal your urge to scream your head off.

“Looks like you got yourself a job,” Rosalie began to walk up to you.

“Thanks to you. Where’d you learn to play like that?” you ask genuinely interested.

“Where’d you learn to sing like that? I thought you was just bull-jiving.” You both laugh.

“I’ve been singing since I was a little girl. My mother always put me in the church choir, and I enjoyed it, so I held onto it.”

“Well you definitely got soul.” She exclaimed.

“Thank you.” You say, blushing at her intense focus on you as she spoke.

“So tell me,” She moves closer to you. “Did you mean what you said?”

You tilted your head slightly at her comment. “What did I say?”

“I see your face in every flower, just the mere thought of you, my love” She speaks the lyrics of the song you just sang.

You weren’t expecting that at all, your body slightly trembling underneath the words her forwardness.

“It’s just a song, Miss Rosalie.” You professed, keeping as much ground as you could. “I am a performer, and I performed.”

“Ahh,” She says nodding sarcastically. “A performance, was it? A stunning one, might I add.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her sarcasm and her witt. The girl was indeed charming. And she wasn’t buying that you didn’t feel the tension that was brewing between the two of you.

“Rosie,” Salome called out. “We going on out to the car, when you ready, we can be on our way.”

“You got it,” Rosalie responded.

“Y/N!” Your best friend came running towards you, and you kneeled down towards the edge of the stage. “Girl you killed it! Brought tears to my eyes, I love seeing you in your element girl, you gone be rich!“ She rambles, saying the last part through clenched teeth. She stops and looks up.

“H-Hi Miss Otterbourne. Rosalie. I’m Y/N’s best friend Josephine.” She introduces herself.

“Hello darling,” Salome smiles. Rosalie waves.

“Well, girl,” she was now whispering. “I gotta go, my man is outside waiting for me, but call me when you get home and tell me EVERYTHING.”

You erupted in laughter. Josephine loved her some him.

“You so crazy. Enjoy yourself, and get home safe.” You say back, momentarily reaching for your best friends hand and squeezing it caringly.

“I will girl!” She runs off and out of the venue.

“Well, Miss Y/N,” Rosalie turns to you. “Where do you live? We could drop you off home.”

“Oh that won’t be necessary,” You assured her. “I live right up the street.”

Rosalie paused for a minute. “Come with me,” she grabbed your hand and the two of you scurried out through the exit backstage.

The warm outside breeze grazed your skin as the two of you began to walk semi-dark, summer streets. It wasn’t freezing, but it was a slight bitter chill that left you feeling more on the cold side.

“Here,” She took off her black, furry jacket and placed it around your arms. “It looks better on you anyway.” You gave a toothless smile at her comment.

“Did you actually enjoy my performance tonight?” You ask, somewhat serious.

“Did I?” She scoffs as if you said the most outrageous thing. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

You look down in nervousness. “You’re not so bad yourself. I mean I always knew she had other talented people in her circle but you,” You paused. “You have such a melodic voice. I enjoyed it very much.”

“Well thank you. Much like you, I keep my accolades undercover. It’s like a pleasant surprise. You think you know me and then— boom.” She illustrates her sentence, flicking her hands open, emulating fireworks.

“Well I don’t know how surprised I’d be considering how confident you are,” You say with an instance. “People like that always have something going on.”

“It takes one to know one, right?” She looks at you through low lids, her figure standing a few inches taller than you. For a while it’s silent. Suddenly, you blurt out something you’d only ever think of to yourself.

“Rosalie have you ever loved a woman?” You ask, almost regretting it, but still wanting to know her thoughts. She furrowed her eyebrows in interest, waiting for you to finish instead of answering right away.

“In the way.. you ain’t ‘supposed’ to love a woman?” you continued emphasizing the quotes, finishing your thought.

She sighed in relief. You sensed that you possibly could’ve opened a safe place for her to speak.

“I have loved women since I learned to walk and talk. My aunt and my band family are the only ones who know. They’d say, ‘Ole Rosalie couldn’t catch a man if she put a bra in a net!’ But they knew I didn’t want to. They ain’t give me no trouble. But everybody story ain’t like mine.” She opens up to you and you look at her with soft eyes.

“What about you?” She then turns to you, returning the question. “I’m guessing you have.”

“Nobody knows about me. Nobody but my bestfriend Josephine. I’ve never even been in love before. Not with a man either. But tonight, standing next to you I- I don’t know. I felt kinda like a school girl.”

Rosalie begins to laugh at your confession. She thought it was sweet. Secretly, she felt the same.

“Oh, stop it, It ain’t funny!” You say defensively, tapping her shoulder, but she continues to laugh. And you continue to fall. Before you could pull your hand back, she grabs it, and pulls you into her. The two of you stop walking momentarily, and it’s you, her, and this lonely street. She places a hand on your waist, the other still holding your hand, and comes close enough to your face to separate the two of you with a single piece of paper.

“Dance with me,” She breathes into you.

“But we ain’t got no music,” You say back, smiling foolishly at her impulses.

“Yes we do.” She begins to hum The Very Thought of You, and the two of you sway side to side, your feet moving in a circle around each other. You begin to him with her, the two of you harmonizing on every chorus. In this moment time stood still. An overwhelming feeling of adoration and excitement washed over you. You felt like the only girl in the world. She had a way of building on your romantic tension, all while making you feel like you gained another best friend. It was the perfect night, and you never wanted it to end.

The two of you stop your tango, and she pulls you in, kissing you ever so slowly and passionately. You felt yourself melt into her, the heat of your bodies keeping each other warm. You finally pull back and share a long gaze, her arms still holding you. Your moment was interrupting by a loud honk from a car coming around the corner.

BEEP BEEP.

“You two ready?” Salome smiled, hanging out the passenger window. “Get in!”

Rosalie led you to the back seat, her getting in first and you following, closing the door behind you.

“What’s your address, sugar?” Salome asked. You gave it to her, and off you all were.

“Oh,” Rosalie began, “Before I forget,” She grabs a pad and a pen from underneath the seat to give you. “Can’t leave without your number.”

You smile and take the materials from her hand.

555-8269 Y/N. You wrote in its red ink, drawing a small heart next to it, and kissing the paper, leaving the mark of your now halfway glossed lips. You folded it up and handed to her, and she delicately placed it in her purse. She slid her hand over top of yours, which now rested on your knee, and interlocked your fingers.

“I’ll be expecting you,” You say softly.

“First thing tomorrow morning.” She affirms to you, holding her intense gaze. She lifts up your hand and places a soft, gentle kiss on the back of it.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up in front of your house.

“Thank you again, Salome. I had a wonderful time.” You express, full of gratitude.

“Don’t mention it, doll. I’ve had a great night myself. Now make sure you stay by the phone, hear? You gone be a star. And I’m gone make sure of it.” She says, turning around to face you from her passenger.

“And I think my Rosalie is very fond of you.” She looks at her niece with a proud and accepting smile. Rosalie gives one back.

“Yes ma’am.” You say, blushing of slight embarrassment but also appreciation. You step out the car and walk up your concrete steps.

“Y/N,” Rosalie says out the window. You turn around.

“Yes?”

“Goodnight.” She says, holding onto every moment she has left of this night with you.

“Goodnight, Rosalie,” You say sweetly, but teasingly.

You walked into your home and crept up to your room, careful not to wake anyone up. You run up to look outside your window and watched as the car drove off. You couldn’t believe this was your life. But you were glad that it was.

All night your head spinned, accompanied by thoughts of you and Rosalie. The instant chemistry between the two of you left you in such a fuzzy state. It was the beginning of something new. It felt warm and welcoming— like a warm fudge brownie with cold ice cream on top. The contrast was clear.. but together, you went so well.

#mrsprettywright #rosalie otterbourne #rosalie x black reader #black sapphic #lesbian #harlem nights

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showtoonzfan · 9 months

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One of the things I often hear amongst people who give out somewhat positive reviews for Hazbin/Helluva is "It has some mild flaws in its story and writing that those annoying critics are just blowing out of proportion." To some degree, I understand where they're coming from, but it makes me openly question: how flawed does a story's writing choices have to be until it's considered bad writing?

Is it when even if it's rushed and rough around the edges, is it still fun to watch? Is it when it's so distracting that you can't ignore it? At what point is it just watching a car crash in slow motion, rather than actually engaging with the story? I know you can only answer with your own thoughts as a fellow critic, so I want this to be more open for others to comment.

I agree with what you’re saying, to me this situation reminds me of how some of the Spindle crew reacted to criticism, mainly the “everyone is saying the same thing over and over!”- when….yeah, that’s for a reason, and maybe if critics and even FANS keep constantly saying the same feedback over and over, then how long does it take you to realize that maybe you should actually fix those problems within the show because that’s what the writing needs?

No one really wants to admit it but more and more fans are getting tired of the issues in Helluva, that’s why so many more critical videos keep popping up every day and more people are starting to get comfortable enough to talking about the issues it has on twitter. This is not only why the views are dropping, but why some fans are legit dropping the show because they’re tired of the story not improving or being more open minded all because of the writer’s stubbornness and ignorance. They try to say otherwise but they make it obvious that most of them have a hate boner for criticism, have no idea what it’s like being show runners/writers and lack thick skin.

I’ve seen so many fans and even the creators demonize the criticism by stating “more people need to learn to just enjoy media without being overly critical of every little thing!” And in some cases, yeah…that’s valid, obviously if you’re just torturing yourself consuming something without even having passion for it or enjoying yourself, then I agree. But again, this is where the ignorance from the creators and the fans come from. They don’t realize that some folks who are critical of the show are fans who WANT to see it get better and that’s why they’re providing criticism in the first place. People will make essay videos taking or ranting BECAUSE they have passion for it, that’s why so many people make critic blogs or even hate blogs towards Viv’s stuff because they’re passionate about it, and it’s a glaring issue today that the crew tries to roll any critic into the category of mindless trolls. Everyone has already said it before, but if you can’t take criticism and expect praise 24/7, then don’t become a show runner/creator, because that’s not how the real world works.

As for the audience, some are dropping the show, some are aware the show is flawed and are just staying to see where the trainwreck ends, some are still holding on to the hope that it’ll get better. All three decisions are valid so long as you have passion for it. For me I’ve lost all passion for this show, that’s why I’ll be dropping it after the Mammon episode because I can’t stick around any longer just to watch every character and concept get destroyed just to cater to two awful main characters and an awful romance, but I’m sure others will still be tuning in.

#Spindlehorse #spindlehorse toons #spindlehorse critical #spindlehorse criticism #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva critical #helluva boss #reply #ask

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lxmelle · 1 month

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The subconscious, the soul, and the body...

It’s an understatement to say that the links and concepts between these are complicated / complex within the jjk world.

I’m just going to write about what I understand so far, and if anyone else has theories or a deeper understanding of it, please drop me a comment or reblog with your own thoughts. I’m open to discourse!

The rest is just largely focused on Gojo and Geto - exploring how their subconscious, soul and body may have been affected by their relationship.

What was meant to be short has gone into theorising territory as I attempt to make sense of things. I am Satosugu / SuguSato indulgent.

(Ps: I don’t discriminate over who tops/bottoms or if they even do it at all. Soulmates don’t necessarily need to copulate as far as I'm concerned).

Be warned and afraid.

It’s a real whopper of an essay by the way. If that’s not your thing, please just skim or pass - or stay for the parts you want to read and do it in multiple sittings if it gets too much.

Can you imagine what it’s like living in my brain? Ha! It’s too much for me too, hence, the info dump.

Sharing here, as I think some people enjoy reading about them too.

NOT spoiler-free. More under the cut (o^^o)

In my brainrot, the cogs start turning and sometimes 2 becomes what looks like 4 and I just have to get it out - you know the drill. Word vomit. If you’ve clicked, welcome and I hope you enjoy your stay with my obsessive brainrot, tangents, love for Gojo and Geto.

A bit on the Soul, the Body, Sub/Consciousness, and Cursed Techniques - skip this part if it’s boring:

So, based on what we have been told, Mahito believes he can see the soul, and that the body & soul are separate. For humans, souls can linger after death but upon rebirth, curses and humans alike will not know one another nor will they retain memories.

“Lingering after death” might be relevant to “north and south” too, but we don’t know with certainty what the afterlife in jjk looks like. North seems to mean rebirth - to become “someone new” - that is assuming Mei Mei is right.

Being sealed in an object (like Sukuna) is different to being in another body (Kenjaku and Tengen), and being in a binding vow/curse also changes depending on the nature of the contract, and being reborn is largely different to the rest because it seems to denote that the soul resets its memories at the very least.

Worth noting that I’m not clear on whether the spirit is different to the soul as well. They could be synonymous to some degree, but I think a spirit has the essence of a soul (indicating consciousness), and I define something with a soul to be at least a creature (with a physical body) or entity (metaphorical form).

In Toji’s resurrection case, his body is so strong from Heavenly Restriction, that it overpowers the soul of the host - Toji thus kills granny. His soul information wasn’t brought back, but some information must’ve been carved into it for it to retain… something. This something included parts where his body recognised Megumi as someone significant enough and attacked itself. (One has to ask if this is a parallel with Geto in no less than fewer than 10 chapters earlier, where his hand moved - more on this later.) Based on this, the body is separate to the soul but information can be written into it. And like the soul, a body can also be brought back through cursed technique.

OR, another interpretation is like as Kenjaku hypothesised - the body and soul are one. And if granny’s cursed technique is just summoning information, and when the soul and body are very linked like in Toji’s case, they both manifest - as in the body is so strong it pulls his soul along with it. I’m speculating. It could equally be soul information carved into the body (I’m leaning more to this interpretation).

Where curse techniques are concerned… For Yaga, he can extract the soul from the body - insinuating they are also not one and the same. And it’s not just information because the soul exists within what becomes a special grade cursed object. Multiple souls in panda’s case.

And cursed techniques themselves seem to be bound to the body for some - as in Geto’s case where Kenjaku can utilise his as well as his own techniques (along with those of his previous vessels)... however, with Sukuna and his vessels? Soul. Yuta with his copy technique - these are existing without the body or soul as this is his curse technique I guess. Reincarnated sorcerers bring their skills along with their souls too. And domains are supposedly tied to the soul. Geto was not shown to have one (but jjk 0 was created at a time where domains never existed) and if he did, Kenjaku did not have access to to it, unless the theory that the Womb Profusion is real.

Yuji could meet with Megumi's soul buried deep in his own body shared with Sukuna, that was now sunken in due to the bath of evil and killing of his sister. He also has the ability to shake a person's soul through his punches. So the soul seems to be something that can reside within a vessel and be touched through powers / ability.

Gojo was shown to be able to “see” something akin to Megumi’s soul, but this wasn’t depicted for when he saw pseudoGeto, despite the light novel saying he was constantly “staring at the shape of his soul” as he flew off on his pelican spirit. His physicality (six eyes) all but confirmed it was Geto. It was his soul that said otherwise - and it was enough to refute his six eyes. And Kenjaku believes the body & soul are one and the same, thus, confirming Gojo’s six eyes.

Or maybe Gojo can’t quite see souls? We haven’t been explicitly told. Did he see souls everywhere in that case? A part of me suspects Gege retconned this “seeing of the soul” for his fight with Sukuna, but I might be wrong. We saw the same blurry image as a representation of the soul with his six eyes, but this theory doesn’t hold up when we consider how he met with Geto at the airport.

The afterlife scene in ch236 shows their souls / consciousness somewhere at an airport (it is not known if they are merely greeting Gojo or have been there awaiting his arrival). This shows us also that they are separate. The soul has gone somewhere: Cursed realm or an Afterlife are the possibilities presented to us... because they haven’t reincarnated. Going nowhere doesn’t seem likely in the jjk world as they talk incessantly about souls and how they can be resurrected in one form or another.

For the sorcerer Geto fought with his Shiba doggy in HI - it was a fantasy of sorts - and is similar to the space between “curse and reality” that Kenjaku talked about with Sasaki. So it could be a cursed realm. And then Gojo smirking when Sukuna was giving his after-battle “send off”… did that indicate the body and soul could be one & the same? Is the afterlife a fantasy? It was a death dream? (Ah, idk how I feel about this, but again, the jjk world believes in souls).

It is so confusing. I know Gege likes the whole “there is no ultimate truth” but making this topic “up to individual interpretation” is really mind-boggling.

But Mahito and Kenjaku end up agreeing that they must be different based on technique. Maybe this is Gege’s retcon lol. Like how he created limitless and then got some people with the knowledge of physics to explain it retroactively?

I guess the manga readers needed a bit more real-world explanation once it got traction, which is understandable. But equally, some things may just need to exist as they are in fiction and unexplainable based on earthly morals or boundaries by the laws of physics and biology as we understand it.

It is possible that it’s just all dependent on curse technique, which makes Yuta’s copy possible without the body, the creation of Sukuna fingers allowing the transcendence of skills and soul without the body, Kenjaku to access soul-information (like memories) without the brain (as well as utilise the cursed technique), and for exceptions to occur, like Megumi and Yuji both accommodating the soul of another entity in their body. How some entities (sorcerer and cursed spirit alike) can touch souls - or even for cursed spirits to take on more human-like existences - implying they, too, can evolve and become a soul. Like humans evolving to become sorcerers (if they can).

And with a technique like cursed spirit manipulation, once a human’s soul is unable to exist in its physical body, the person will die unless they are like tengen with a curse technique that allows its soul to be removed - as as its form weakens… what happens to the soul if a creature / entity / being becomes more spirit than a human, where someone like Geto / pseudoGeto / Kenjaku can absorb it? I suspect they are exorcised, and they live as Pokémon-like shikigami spirits that have no soul?

We know those like Naoya can become cursed spirits, and Rika’s soul can ascend into somewhere leaving a shikigami spirit behind, so this tells us there are various levels of existence and consciousness - like a hierarchy of sorts with the soul being the most pure / transcendent. It makes sense based on my Buddhist understanding too, but who knows what exists in the jjk world. I’m just trying to make sense of it all...

And of course as I write this, ch.257 just dropped and Kenjaku bloody managed to create Yuji in a completely different era after somehow accurately discovering the reincarnated soul of Sukuna’s twin that was absorbed by him in the womb?!? 🤯 Gets pregnant as Kaori and manages to birth Yuji who could have been by luck or by design, inherited his father’s old soul’s Cursed Technique? So since Cursed Technique can manifest despite completely different DNA, it’s possible for one to assume that the Cursed Technique may be bound to the soul rather than the body… or at least for Kenjaku’s technique, he can create it within the body. or the soul?

What. The. Actual. Heck. And what happened to papa Yuji?

My brain starts to go bananas.

So souls can be split into twins if the egg splits into two (Maki & Mai and Sukuna & his twin (reincarnated into papa Yuji), and can reincarnate. But are considered one. But one can reincarnate separately. 🤯

And on reincarnation: Was the previous six eyes & limitless user Gojo before reincarnation, and does that mean that there won’t be another six eyes + limitless user since Gojo chose to go South? Especially since only one can exist in the world at any given time. Did Mai's spirit join up with Maki, or did she reincarnate?

It would make sense if the series is leading us to a conclusion whereby there is a new world where sorcerers don't exist anymore and all these OP beings like Sukuna, Kenjaku, and skills like the six eyes and limitless, cursed spirit manipulation, cursed speech, or copy aren't being reincarnated in the jjk world as it is now - by choice of the users. If Gojo and others all decide to stay in wherever they wish in the afterlife (pockets of reality wherever they may be), then the human world and the sorcerer world and the cursed spirit world will all exist separately.

But I honestly don't know if that's a good ending. It wouldn't make for very good storytelling? And all it would take was for a soul to get bored and wish to be reincarnated. So too many loopholes.

I mean, I could go deeper into speculating, but I really just wanna focus on the impact on Gojo and Geto for now...

More within the Satosugu / Sugusato context. Read here for it, or skip if it’s boring:

It seems romantic for those who have enjoyed the meme... “would we know each other in another life?”

Especially if these two were made to be counterparts. Anyway, moving on to what we see in the jjk world.

Those who like this pairing probably know these scenes:

Take it how you will. It’s rather evocative and indicative of a strong bond. If you’ve read some of my other analyses, you’ll know I feel that in the jjk world: To love is to recognise / know the other, even if they presented themselves differently. To love is to long for them, and to yield - something - whether it is a power or a sacrifice, for another.

Love shapes and forms a reason. Meaning. Purpose. It does something to the subconscious. It affects and alters a person and their soul. And even without the subconscious or the soul, one’s body can react.

Some of this will be my personal interpretation but it remains canon that Gojo’s soul recognised it wasn’t Geto with Kenjaku inhabiting him. Gojo didn’t want to kill Geto but he did in the end partly because Geto wanted him to. Maybe a part of him always wanted Gojo to, which is why it/he was a curse only Gojo could bear - the responsibility to kill him was always Gojo’s.

Gojo always had Geto in the palm of his hand. Neither acted to tip the strange unspoken balance they had where no lines were crossed until Geto declared war. Geto didn’t want to pull Gojo into his broken-down world in an attempt to attack the roots of the problems in the curse-filled world. Gojo attempted to reform the jujutsu world for a long time whilst holding it up within the institution as he knew it, hoping to make room for Geto should he wish to be saved. Yeah we know he really didn’t want saving in that way... he was too busy trying to save the ones he deemed worthy by eradicating the sinners, evolve those with potential and annihilate the weak. If he was weak he deserved to be killed.

Both longed for the other but could never quite be honest with one another. I headcanon that the words, “if I could be you” were thought about more than once by each of them. That’s why Geto said it and tried to be strong, and Gojo wanted to reform the world through eduction. They swapped fortes because they lost the other on the paths they walked on. They needed each other but fate had a different plan.

They didn’t know how to bridge the gap that had formed between them until many years later. Ultimately, despite their differences, they shared the same ideals and were designed to be counterparts. There was always a space for the other in their hearts.

In those two scenes, I wondered for a while: what was Gege’s point of depicting Gojo switching back to “ore” (in reference to himself - a nuance that cannot be translated into English from its original context within the Japanese culture) for two brief moments. What does it imply about their connection? How do we understand the levels of their “counterpart-ness”? Soulmatism. Romanticism. Whatever you want to call it.

And even pseudoGeto’s body reacting to Gojo’s voice calling out to Suguru. Nothing much ever came from it, and the conversation Mahito and Kenjaku had about the soul hasn’t been expanded on since (to my knowledge). So what was Gege getting at? What are we meant to understand? Back then, it maybe served as an unresolved issue - that Geto may need to have been rescued if his soul was trapped. But now that we saw him at the airport... we can all collectively breathe a sigh of relief - unless it was just a death dream. Then we can collectively cry.

So let’s go back to their connection. We know that Gojo and Geto were practically bonded and changed by being each others’ “one and only”. However you interpret their love is up to you, but it is undeniable that there is something unique and irreplaceable shared between them.

It was Mimiko and Nanako who recollected that Gojo was Geto’s One and Only 「たった一人の親友」.

This is undeniably canon. Geto mustn’t have mentioned him only once, or at least they learned through observation, that Gojo was important to him despite having his cult family. It’s possible that Geto might not have seen the other cult leaders much, if they were operating from different places. So this precious space was never filled after they “argued”. Geto was probably lonely / alone too after becoming PapaGeto.

And as a parent: you love your kids but they aren’t replacements for your life partner / soulmate. The same can be said for Gojo and his students. Even after death, there is a placeholder for that person. Even between partners, some people are more significant than others.

I wanted to note that this happened after the Toji incident:

Geto is actually holding an eraser, and Shoko, the pencil. It appears switched in the anime. So maybe it is not as important as it could be: by that, I mean, if Geto chose an eraser because he doesn’t like the idea of harming Gojo. So this is my headcannon.

But I theorise that it’s possible. Geto doesn’t like harm to come to those he loves - like arguing. With his cult family, this was one of the philosophies they continued after his death. Geto interpreting the kfc breakup as an “argument” also speaks volumes, imho.

The eraser goes further than the pencil, probably because it is considered less dangerous than a pencil, which Gojo elaborates in the next panels.

We also know that Gojo knows Geto - the ins and outs. He knows what he smells like (residuals, scent or whatever you want to call it) and can predict what he might do based on how well he knows him. This is reciprocal as Geto, too, knows how Gojo thinks. Kenjaku of course exploits this.

It’s not too much of a stretch to think that Gojo has a tendency to let his guard down around Geto. Hence his switching to “ore” 「俺」 and his mask “of proper decorum and speaking politely” slips when he sees pseudoGeto (whom he thinks is Geto momentarily) and also Geto at the airport. He reverts to “boku” after that. (If you’re not already aware, Gojo used “ore” throughout the Hidden Inventory arc but changed to “boku” after Geto left - likely as a result of maturing and adopting his friend’s advice to be more polite.)

For context:

Gege himself says he sometimes switches to usage of “ore” when he is excited - taken from the hared interview with Tite Kubo in the jjk character book.

So it’s really not imagining things when we see Gojo depicted specifically to be reacting like this to Geto alone. It seems like Gege is showing us something about Gojo’s subconscious / psyche. They are largely authentic with each other. There is a cultural difference in Japan about context of the inner (honne) and outer voice (tatemae). “Ore” and “Boku” represent that for Gojo respectively, I gather.

Their friendship, the rupture (and the intermittent anguish over 10 years), and having to kill his best friend - are all precisely why he gets sealed. His subconscious seems to know that Geto wouldn’t hurt him. He also trusts that Geto’s subconscious wouldn’t hurt him either. He believed Geto wouldn’t kill young sorcerers - and true to form, this cost him his life.

So there is trust for the person’s mind, there is knowing/identifying of the soul, there is familiarity of the body…

Which is interesting because all that is there is the body. Geto’s subconscious isn’t there anymore with his brain not physically present in pseudoGeto/Kenjaku’s body - but then his arm reacts to Gojo.

It even continues reacting for some time. Look at those veins along his arm in the panel below:

This is significant in the reciprocal nature of Gojo and Geto - Gojo’s speech changed for a moment and he is hit with all the memories from 3 of the best years of his life - his “3 years of Aoi Haru”/3年の青い春 like being smacked with his own unlimited void. Geto’s body reacts involuntaril and tries to retaliate, (just like Toji did several chapters later to stop himself from hurting Megumi/ending his massacre).

They reached for each other, y’all 😭

Again my brain just goes places, and it made me wonder about the soul & body thing. I hope that Geto’s soul is really at the airport, but that there is information carved into the body (like his memories) - if they’re important enough to become instinctual.

It is also, by extension, then possible that... Kenjaku experiences something outside of just thoughts /memories when inside his host...

Just as we see here - yes he does need to keep an eye on the cube, but his expression / reaction to knowing that the girls’ presence are there... addressing them only after the curses have left, and what he says to them, as well as admitting he doesn’t remember what regret feels like -

…and cue an tighter shot of the prison realm (with Gojo’s eyes in the anime depiction) (and interestingly the back of the realm has stitches like Kenjaku’s forehead).

Gege likes to foreshadow and follow up with something significant. So similarly to the above where he sees the girls and acts like he doesn’t give a toss, but is depicted to seem contrary to what he says. Could it also be that it Gojo’s eyes staring that incited the involuntary movement, and the reemphasis of Kenjaku saying he was enjoying the view of seeing Gojo captured - a similar pattern? This old man is just a brain who forgot how to feel?

It begs the question for me: If there was something imprinted within the body that Gojo could call out, what was there?

It remains possible that Kenjaku was simply detached / in denial / ignoring any emotion that arose within from Geto’s body.

Arguably, it is possibly quite characteristic of Kenjaku who was a “mother” and had some motherly instincts remaining, or it could also be seen as an emergence of some sympathy or sadness for the girls that may have come from Geto’s body. I mean, he led Yuji’s friend (Sasaki) out of the culling games, acting like a parent / guardian...

Hmm…

We do not see a physical reaction to any children though; and I guess a situation like that (with the Hasaba girls) in comparison to one that may be filled with adrenaline like a trapped Gojo speaking in that low baritone to him, is inherently different. But regret though? Was it actually a knowing smirk Gege showed us of Kenjaku in front of the prison realm - as if to say he had bested Gojo and Geto? He got his way with the girls too, despite knowing Geto’s feelings?

Or did he simply not recognise it, and it was truly a first for Kenjaku because there normally isn’t something there, but with Geto’s body - something actually stirred / retaliated... because it was Gojo?

I mean, from a neutral perspective, it would seem like the author is shipping them, lol. But I’m not going to lie - we don’t get much honest feedback from Geto about Gojo, so nuggets like those are quite affirming that the connection felt between them was very mutual.

Because if we see how it all began, and note that all Geto wanted to do was to protect those who needed it (even if it was at his personal expense). First it was humans, then Gojo, then sorcerers and then his family too.

And this was born out of the fracture from being unable to be relied upon to kill Toji (avenge Gojo & Riko’s death) or to fight Toji with Gojo, since leaving him alone resulted in getting him killed - which he must’ve believed happened until the point he saw him alive again carrying Riko’s lifeless body...

His connection with Gojo was so strong that (as Gege described it) his body reacted like a dragonfly whose head has been cut off. Something imprinted so deeply in their friendship that it became instinctual - carved into the body - and may not be related to the mind (therefore my avoidance of using the term “subconscious” with pseudoGeto, as it would be Kenjaku’s consciousness).

Moreover, if we take Toji’s resurrection as an example, even in the absence of a soul, the body can still remember and react. In a Geto’s case, where there is a different mind controlling it, for the body is react as separate entity is rather remarkable. I guess by saying this, I’m postulating that I believe body & soul are separate - because, if I’m honest, I want to believe Geto’s soul is with Gojo post-chapter 236.

But. We know there are all of Geto’s memories within the body still after Kenjaku inhabit it. In the absence of the host’s brain. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, Gege - but here we are. And maybe. Emotions too. Or memories of them at the very least. Not that it matters to Kenjaku.

This greatly disturbs me. It’s a level of injustice that also feeds into why I have been avoiding doing metas in Gojo - because his suffering and level of unfairness thrust upon him for simply being “blessed” and resilient just … hurts so bad. I can’t face it just yet.

So what exactly made their connection so profound?

I theorise that Geto interpreted Gojo as wanting to fight alone. That he was in his best element doing so. Kenjaku says this about Gojo too, knowing Geto’s memories.

Short sidenote: Whilst it is true that his technique lends itself better to soloing, I wonder how they might’ve fought together had the Toji incident not occurred. How would they overcome Unlimited Void aside from being back/to-back? Could Geto obtain a curse of his own to swallow him up as protection? No doubt, as a team, Geto’s progression could’ve been exponentially increased due to the number and level of curses available to him with assistance from Gojo. And would Gojo be different and enjoy fighting together had it not occurred? I don’t know, but they do seem to have wanted a connection with one another.

He saw Shoko being asked for help with teleportation. Once upon a time, might it have been him? There was no longer any “we” that he could sense. He didn’t feel there was a use when he had “failed” in so many ways after the failure of the mission and also believing that Gojo died that day and he was unable to avenge him.

The conversation with Yuki all but reinforced his feelings of irrelevance and perceived waste of their sacrifice when tengen was allegedly stable again. Subsequent conversations with Haibara and Nanami seals his skewed belief that he wasn’t needed there. Nanami’s choice of words is very interesting in the original text, implying that “it’s enough for him (Gojo) alone, isn’t it?”. Ref post by @nanami-says who has a nice selection of pieces about translations.

Gojo alone could do it. He could train and ascend all without him; untainted and untethered. His downfall was that he didn’t speak to Gojo. Gojo alone was left out. I mean, just because it suited him doesn’t mean he should be left to do it all...

This is so sad.

He left his heart (Gojo) alone. He also left his own heart alone (never happy from the bottom of his heart). In his descent, he was busy rationalising everything else except getting sad that he felt he’d lost his best friend. Arguably, the most important thing, because it is the scariest things and the things that hurt the most often have the most power / potential to heal.

It is possible he was actively avoiding it. Because, if it was purely about chasing an ideal he could have been drawn to look obsessed with it. Instead he has a sorrowful “I love you so much imma break up with you” face.

Gojo could have been the strength he was seeking if he did indeed want to just eliminate all humans, but he didn’t seek that out because (I theorise) he didn’t want to be outwardly rejected by Gojo.

And thus, he left instead (ugh! you foolish brave coward!) after snapping, and Gojo was left alone to pick up the pieces all by himself in a place haunted with memories of them together.

Just bloody tragic.

And that’s why it was carved into their souls.

In the depths of despair that he was in, could it be that he believed Gojo was better off without him , and in wanting to cradle whatever pride he had left, he sought to build his own temple where he could live in the void of his own making without facing that he had lost everyday?

Gojo could be free to grow and grow and be the strongest and embrace whatever belief system he now held - whether it was borrowed from him or not.

He even goads Gojo into killing him off since there would be meaning to it.

Sigh. Heartbreaking. It wasn’t the best decision. But we know suffering builds character. At least Gege really likes this theme❤️‍🩹.

Why do I believe he yielded though?

Because caring for others comes second nature to Geto. How many times have we seen him make that forlorn face?

Even with the souvenir he requested from Haibara, in the original he phrases it in such a way he implies he isn’t even sure if he’ll see him. “Satoru too; I don’t know if he’ll have some, but I guess, something sweet?” But. He yields to his preference.

There is limited space in his heart, and all he can do is exclude some in order to vehemently love those he can (or deems worthy enough based on his moral system). He didn’t know any other way to exist. Monstrous love. I’m pretty sure someone wrote about it. If I can find it I’ll link it! I call it maternal rage, but it’s a similar concept.

If he had wished to leave without staining Gojo, the absence of a confession of his love at any point also makes sense - like Nanami, he chose his final words carefully - that he hated monkeys (why preface with “no matter what anyone says”) and in a roundabout way, that he djdnt have hate for anyone at the school (can’t he just say he was happiest in those few years?). He wasn’t happy in the world (you can just kill me).

When he saw and felt Gojo’s love - unwavered and unchanged, seeing him having blossomed into someone still so pure - effortlessly righteous, strong, and proud with his army of students who loved each other... did he dare feel absolved? Did he feel like it was worth his defection? Yielded to others? Unable to be selfish? As sad as he was for himself and that his family would be without him and his dream unrealised; Gojo turned out ok.

Suddenly it gave meaning to his perceived sacrifice. It parallels with Toji and seeing Megumi who wasn’t a zenin.

Ah, this makes me mad somehow, but if it helped him pass and have a good death, what can I say? We all need something different at the end of our lives. And it’s important in the Shinto perspective to have a death free of regret in order to live in the space between nowhere/rebirth and earth. I posted about this in another piece too.

And I think that’s also why it was all carved into his body - enough to react to Gojo calling out to him, “Suguru”, despite being inhabited by Kenjaku. And carved into his soul that’s why he waited in the afterlife for Gojo. To be the first to greet him. I want to believe the body and soul are separate. The subconscious may have acted as a bridge between the two, transferring information from the mind / soul into the body.

But of course as a reader we wished it could’ve been a kinder fate for them. But I guess sometimes people have to pay for their sins as well as the sins of others? Life isn’t fair after all…

And arguably, Gojo needed a way to truly sympathise with the weak and how else through loving and losing someone to shape a person’s soul? It was just rather Geto-shaped, as I elaborated on in my other post.

I highly suspect Gojo may have wanted something different - as being born the strongest, he was always going to be the strongest anyway. This came with a burden. Noblesse Oblige. Being the strongest was written into his entire being - mind, body, soul.

And I think this was something they had both respected. I doubt Geto ever thought of himself as a power equal to Gojo, but they had both valued their friendship. Geto was someone who saw Gojo for a person, before the strongest. That’s why when Mimiko and Nanako asked, he was considered thus “my best friend”, and not the latter. Gojo recognised that for what it was, and felt the tender words that showed Care. Consideration. Love.

Gojo may have wanted Geto to lean on him a little. To let himself take the fall. They both didn’t like burdening the other, and after Toji it might just magnified. He wasn’t the type to overthink his role, but wanting to be the strongest (seeing how far he can go) and taking on all the blame was one of the ways Gojo was extremely loving. It was just something he accepted.

I feel like Gojo wanted to be relied upon to do his part; be his best friend, someone he could still love and do the mental and emotional load for him, spoil him a little in return so he could just do his thing as the strongest and train. He needed his other half to help him to do the things he doesn’t like or isn’t good at doing.

I think that as they experienced their bafflingly complementary and reciprocal friendship … before he knew it, all these experiences and emotions shaped him so much that his soul made room for Geto - as the one person who represented fulfilment outside of being the strongest.

Never once did he think he’d lose Geto like he did. He never wanted to be at it alone. Like a lonely army tank whose comrades had left him on the battefield to fight it out on his own.

Ugh, it hurts so bad. He didn’t think Geto was slipping down. Maybe because it wasn’t something he could understand- even more so after the enlightenment incident where a chasm emerged between him and others. Maybe nobody was ever important enough for him to worry or miss if they left.

He nevertheless never deserved to be met with such loneliness and misfortune. He carried the weight of it all, all by himself. I know they both did in their own way, but there is some tragedy to Gojo where he probably wanted or could have had more to fill his life and soul but there was always a chasm or a void that could not be filled because he could not feel understood by anyone since Geto.

How awful it must feel to have to kill someone you treasure.

We have no idea without much insight into his life growing up. Nevertheless, Gojo consistently shielded those he cares about from self-blame even from the beginning where he must’ve known Geto had such inclinations to be stuck in his own head and he tried his best to absolve it and take it upon himself. The priorities of those he cared about became his, provided if he could do it. He protected the students and made light of situations so they could experience their youth. Something he can remember treasuring well into his adult life. His blue spring / best years of his life were deeply etched into his subconscious and soul. It was what he wanted to give his students and reason for reforming the jujutsu world.

But being shielded at that time wasn’t enough for Geto who was experiencing the worst spiral in his life yet. He needed to feel the weight of his responsibility had meaning and a role. In his trauma, grief and denial, he shatters and reaches a point from which he cannot return. He also knows how Gojo defines the weak - tiresome, “lower”, etc. and that could have been another factor that led to his avoidance of him.

I want to really emphasise how I don’t blame any of them. They are not inherently responsible for the other. Arguably, Gojo needed to learn about that pain in order to know what love is. And Geto needed to realise how flawed and unloving his path actually was.

If only they could’ve both had a compassionate mentor who guided them onto the Teacher AU path 😭

In the absence of such a connection etched into his soul, what might Gojo have become? Another Sukuna? I theorised that Geto helped Gojo connect with those “beneath” him in a recent post. I’m not going to repeat that here, but it makes a lot of sense to me that Gojo learned a lot about love through Geto and his own hard work following the numerous hardships he faced as the loneliest strongest of the modern era.

He faced so much in his short life. Being blessed with the six eyes and limitless was a curse in itself. He spent years paying the price for losing his friend, and even had to kill him. How profoundly tragic. He faced loneliness and criticism for finding joy in the only thing that he practically had: jujutsu (yes that kept him one-dimensional, but similar to MeiMei chasing money and several others pursuing strength alone) it was a hefty price to pay. But he was a sorcerer. After all, the only thing he really wanted was to treasure his blue spring and the person associated with it - Geto.

It is poetic that when Gojo died, his soul found its counterpart. He opened his eyes to the person whose presence had etched itself so deeply that he knew Geto in body, mind, soul. Geto was there to greet him with a heartfelt smile (and pout!).

One meeting him at the point of death, and the other, upon death.

Their exchange is really reciprocal here too, with Geto admitting he was envious and Gojo responding in a way where he implies reassurance akin to “I needed you there”. Link to a post on this:

Geto’s little tear in his eye in not one, but two panels as well.

Anyway… then appearing at the airport reminds me of their exchange many years ago “you’re late Suguru - no you’re early.” And “you’re late, Satoru.”

Well, they’re on time now... better not be late for your flight, kids.

And as Kenjaku said to Gojo before sealing him - 「新しい世界でまた会おう」

“let’s meet again in the new world.”

—————————

Sorry, it’s a whopper from me again.

Just some words in an attempt to close this off:

For someone whose emotions guided and drove his rationale, it was ironic how Geto’s body became a puppet for someone like Kenjaku, who was so cerebral (devoid of empathy) befitting of his curse technique to brain-hop. It fits with the jjk theme of being strong in the absence of love, I guess?

Seems fitting that Kenjaku was bested after slipping up when having that good of a time with Takaba. Ironic isn’t it? All those years scheming, only to lose himself for a moment as he indulged in something novel, and he lost to a scheme himself.

And to be killed by Gojo v3.0 (Yuta) who already defeated him once, also as foreshadowed by Gojo before being sealed, on the date he scheduled 24th November.

The parallels don’t end there either, where somehow mahito who stood beside Kenjaku was created to parallel Gojo in some way too (I haven’t quite pondered on this much yet, but I reckon there is something about the thrill in growing exponentially / fighting sense that they share - it might just be that alone or possibly also the juxtaposition of one being human and one a curse? Their reasons for seeking strength?

I dunno - i gather Yuji who also developed exponentially fast and as an anomaly himself may have similarities. And again, as ch 257 leaked, it makes sense and I look forward to finding out what’ll happen to them (seeing as Yuji is kind of sukuna’s son 🤯 if the jjk world considers twin souls to be one soul - papa Yuji is Sukuna’s twin after all) and also Megumi of course.

Just going to wrap up here now, and please feel free to link me up to a post that can enlighten me or drop a comment with any thoughts?

Sorry for a rambling post. I hope it made sense.

For real, real. Thanks for reading my brainrot ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

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