I for one loved the final season of tmmm. It’s getting a lot of hate for not doing this or that or just not being 100% a happy ending (how dare it be bitter sweet??? She’s?? Isolated from her loved ones because of the inevitable cost of her ambition and fame??? ImPoSsiBle!!).
When we first started with the flash forwards of Midge’s children and we saw how estranged they were, I admit I wasn’t too pleased, but as the season was coming out I was also doing a rewatch, and the more of the old seasons I watched, the more s5 made sense. This is where we’ve always been headed. Every big turn in the series has always presented Midge with the question “will you choose your domestic life or your career?” and she chose her career. Every. Time. Over men, over family, over her children. Even when she was presented with Benjamin, ostensibly an opportunity to try and make it work with a man who actively supported her career, she walked away from him because she knew that he would never matter to her as much as being on stage would. To be honest, I think the flash forwards were nearly kind. They started out rough in the first half of the season with the estrangement, the several failed marriages, and the implication of a falling out with Susie, but eventually they balanced out. She fought with Susie, but they eventually found their way back to each other. She was distant from her family, but she still loved them and used her money to support her mother’s dream. She got everything she wanted because she made a choice and she took it as far as she could.
As far back as s2e7 (and honestly even before that), this message has been explicit in the show with that painter showing Midge his master piece and explaining how it ruined his life because he put everything he had into that. The epilogue is showing us Midge’s version of that, and tbh, it still pulls its punches, because she still manages to have meaningful (if distant) relationships with Susie, her family, and Joel whereas the painter’s story was somehow even more depressing.
Was s5 perfect? Of course not. Some of the scenes didn’t land for me, and there are things I wish they would’ve done differently, but when it comes down to it, this was a pretty good conclusion. It showed how the characters grew, and how they were still exactly who they always were. It gave every character an ending that made sense for them (even when some of them made me sad) and honestly, Midge’s four minute set on the Gordon Ford show (which could not possibly have been just four minutes) could not more blatantly have been a thesis statement that the show never once veered away from. Everything was building to this conclusion, and I for one found it satisfying in the way that a well crafted story/conclusion is always satisfying, even if it’s a conclusion that makes people uncomfortable.
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okay, so in a rare moment for me, there's a discourse thing i want to bring up, and that thing is. okay. so on iskall's stream there's this thing that can happen where someone brings up a criticism of his content or vault hunters. frequently it's self-evidently wrong, but sometimes it's not. and then iskall spends the next thirty minutes shadowboxing this guy, explaining himself, and completely derailed. and this is an iskall trait we all know and sigh bemusedly about, because he cares about the community and wants people to understand his intentions! he wants the community to understand his decisions!
however, it's not the community as a whole he's fighting; he is in fact, arguing with One Guy, who often doesn't represent the wider community, and who normally won't have their mind changed. hell, sometimes it's believable that they're satisfied having just managed to upset iskall, and they'll leave, no change to their mind, perfectly pleased that iskall's responding at all (that's what i firmly believe the people who poke at the 'you don't upload enough and that means you're falling off and a bad person' wound are trying to do, at least).
in the vault hunters community, we refer to this as iskall getting One Guyed, and it's typically viewed as bad, because it ends up focusing an entire moment on a single guy's negative opinion as opposed to on the larger picture. and it's an understandable thing to have happen! but it's frustrating to watch from the outside.
and so now i am looking at that cat poll. and the way everyone is still shadowboxing someone who has since apologized. and the way i would have never ever known about any of the negative comments about jellie if it weren't for fellow mcyt fans constantly putting them on my dash to dunk on them. and it's like. if you look through the notes most of them are just... normal? it's only a tiny few of people (and the pollrunner, who has since apologized) who were being dicks. it's a very, very ignorable demographic.
but. well. there was One Guy. and we had to correct them.
and folks, i don't know how to say that i almost never see "lol mcyt is cringe" type comments unless one of you puts it on my dash. both because i don't go looking through the notes of things that are likely to have them or go looking for reasons to be upset and because it's just... not that common! very frequently these days it is, in fact, One Guy!
i have almost never seen that poll on my dash without at least one instance of the One Guy. instead of being for fun, it's mostly become about explaining ourselves to someone who will not listen and will not change their minds, and treating this as a the whole of the Other Side of that poll, when most people are being... fine. they're fine! the majority of the people voting for the other side are doing it for perfectly normal reasons that don't require fighting about.
and man. let me tell you. after spending as long as i have watching vault hunters development? it can be just as frustrating to watch a fandom get One Guyed as it is to watch iskall.
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a slight continuation of this
no caller ID pops on your screen, pulling your attention away from your previous task at hand: not fucking up your eyeliner. you typically wouldn’t care if it was a little uneven, but you’re going on a date tonight, for the first time in so long, and you want everything to go as smoothly as possible.
which is why you groan when you end the call, and that same no caller ID pops right back up seconds later. you know who it is—who else would it be? you figured he’s already seen your story of being excited for going on your first date in a while, on the only app you hadn’t blocked him on. petty? perhaps, but it’s on him to be keeping up with you despite you cursing him out for wasting your time and then blocking him right after.
you watch it ring though, contemplating for a while longer than you should. you blocked him for a reason. no need to entertain his same shit that he always spews to you when he realizes that he might be losing you once more?
….but it doesn’t hurt to hear the hero beg for you.
“What do you want, Bakugou?” You sigh irritably as you finally answer his call, putting him on speaker as you go back to even out your eyeliner. You hear him huff on the other side of the phone at the use of his surname, but he doesn’t say anything about it, instead, quickly telling you what he’s been bothering you for.
“Who’s the fuckin’ loser that’s gonna drool over how good your tits look in that stupid green dress you love so much?” Bakugou grunts, and you instantly feel your face heating at his crude words. You glance over with a frown at that same green dress that makes your tits look good, where it hangs on your closet.
“None of your damn business, Bakugou.” You snap at him, wondering if it’s too late to find something else to wear. “Not like you ever took me out in my stupid green dress.” Your voice holds a level of bitterness that only he can bring out of you, and you hear his sigh through the speakers.
“I told you this before, I’m always—”
“Busy.” You cut him off, voice suddenly thick as you think back on the countless rejections he’s splattered at your feet every time you tried to further your relationship with him. “You reminded me of how busy you’ve been since you first started this whole situationship.”
“Situation—? Huh? We were dating!” Bakugou protests with a huff, and you can hear how he paces the floor quickly. You glare at your phone, setting down your liner to instead pick of your (his) favorite lipgloss.
“You’d have to ask me out to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to court me to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to make time for me and take me out on dates and not hide me to fucking date me, Bakugou.” You spit at him, venom dripping off of your lips in waves. You don’t know why you answered, why you even entertained him. You shake your head with a huff when the line goes quiet, eyebrows quirking up when your date sends you a text to make sure you’re still on for tonight.
“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mutters pathetically, his voice suddenly soft. You hesitate, for some reason, when it comes to texting your date back. Why do you always hesitate when Bakugou is around?
“Let me make it up to you, court you, and shit. I can take you to one of my favorite places, you can wear that pretty green dress and that gloss you know I love.” His voice is pleading, thickening and sweet and suffocating. You shouldn’t respond, should reply back a yes to your date.
“Please? You know how much you mean to me.” Bakugou mumbles, and you can hear the earnestness in his voice. Why haven’t you said yes to your date yet?
“I’ll do better this time. Just one more chance, sweetheart.” Bakugou’s voice is so soft, you’ve never heard him this vulnerable before. You sigh with a shake of your head, slumping back into your seat in defeat.
…
Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?
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Now where in the hell did she go?
Prev - Next - First
(more pictures and writing under the cut)
God damn it. Sans had one job—keep an eye on the human, make sure she rested, keep her out of trouble. Now, as he stared dumbfoundedly down at the obviously empty couch on the first floor, he only had one real thought come floating through his fatigued skull.
"i'm gonna kill that girl."
He threw his soiled jacket somewhere in the corner of his room and snatched his hoodie from where it was hung next to his door, slipping it on as he shoved socked feet into slippers, descending the stairs so quickly he may as well have teleported. Far be it from him to ever move that fast on purpose—apparently, that was another thing she was able to do to him without him knowing, damn it all. Frustration simmered at the back of his throat, but even he knew that the feeling was covering a darker, more icy fear that clutched at the inside of his ribcage and froze into a heavy thing somewhere next to his SOUL. She needed to rest. She needed to stay out of sight for now until they figured things out with her magic. She needed to stay safe, fuck, and even just thinking that sent an uncomfortable rattle up along his spine. He didn't bother opening the front door, he jolted through space and found himself outside a few feet away.
"think, sans, think. where would she—"
His pupils settled on the ground. Blue grass and sand mixed together to create an uneven path leading through the village proper. The isles were on the night cycle now—which, didn't look different, but having something of a curfew helped with the constant feeling of nighttime—so nobody was around save for some real night owl types. Sans had excellent night vision, picking out the disturbed sand leading through the village and far to the left, back towards the entrance. He took a step and jittered to the far end, focused on the footprints leading up, until the grass and sand gave away to stone, ascending on a gentle incline that only grew steeper until it led to a cliff overlooking a majority of the Starlight Isles and surrounding territories.
His steps slowed as a silhouette came into view near the edge, an ambient warm breeze tugging the cape pulled around their shoulders. Briefly, he thought he'd stumbled across Count Koffin K doing something...but when they raised their head to gaze upward, he realized he'd found his target.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and resisted the urge to stomp his way up the cliff to her side.
"and what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Angel startled a little, jerking around halfway and flinching. Burning purple eyes met his own, wide and alarmed.
For a second, he felt like they fit right in with the "stars" in their sky.
"Oh! Oh. Sans. Hey."
"answer the question, human."
"Right. Um." Her gaze trailed away, back over the edge of the cliff. "Well don't worry, I didn't fuck off to, uh...y'know. Yeah. Ye—yeah. I'm just, just..."
He didn't speak, recognizing by the tone of her voice that she was struggling to get her thoughts out. She got scrambled like that sometimes—it reminded him of Alphys...when she wasn't putting on a whole fake persona, anyways.
"...Processing. Mhm."
"your near death experience or your magic?"
"Can it be both?"
He inclined his head and slowly stepped forward, moving to stand beside her. There was a very long pause before he spoke.
"well, uh, anyways. asgore said you gotta rest. my brother'll have a conniption if he finds out you're out here."
"Right. Sorry. I just...really needed to get some air. Please."
Frustration boiled behind his teeth, but he sucked back the smoke and smiled anyways. When she glanced at him, whatever she saw in his expression made her grimace and look away again.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not dying."
"you nearly did." The lights in his eyesockets extinguished, smile thinning until it was nearly a frown. "like, 6 hours ago. unless you forgot. i mean...wouldn't really be surprised, ya did hit your head pretty hard during your little stunt."
"God, Sans, can you just—not? For once?"
"i dunno what you mean."
She whirled on him, a desperate sort of anger flashing onto her features.
"You know exactly what I mean! Don't kick me while I'm down. I—"
"i'm trying to get you back in bed before anyone sees you, but hey, if you wanna keep acting like a babybones, be my guest."
"I'm NOT—" Angel cut herself off and shut her eyes, drawing Sans's cape around her shoulders tighter and covering her face with a hand. "Not...fuck. Fuck. Sans. I–I don't need you to act like my parent. Be all weird and protective over your brother, but don't...let's not pretend. Don't do the same with me cuz you think you have to. It hurts."
He didn't know what to say, for once. There was a quiet swallowing sound while he searched for something, anything to respond to that. Seconds dragged into minutes before she spoke again.
"...I'm gonna die down here."
"hey, you just said you're not—"
"No, Sans." She interrupted, insistent, voice pitching high and broken. "I'm gonna die down here. This place, it's driving me fucking mental. I don't. I don't know what to do."
Her hand slipped away again, a frightened, tight little grin stretching across her face as she looked at him. It looked like it hurt.
"The sun. I miss the sun. I feel like I've been stuck in a damn time loop where it's always night time and I do the same damn shit every day! Yesterday was the first time in weeks that I felt like something new happened and I completely fucked it. I've been having so much fun here that I forgot that—I forgot. I forgot!" She began to laugh, gesturing to her body frantically, trying to get a point across. "I forgot!"
Sans listened to her speak with an increasing feeling of worry, frustration melting into concern the longer she went on.
"kid—" He started, but she cut him off again, her laughter ceasing as quickly as it had come, turning her body away.
"Don't. Please don't. I don't think I could stand if it you started with the pity train."
"wasn't the pity train, was more like the empathy express."
His weak attempt at humor did bring a smaller, more genuine twitch of her mouth than whatever fake grin she'd been trying to keep up. How had she ever managed to fool him before? In hindsight, it was obvious now, all the times she'd been pretending at joy.
Ah, but then, she was the perseverant kind of person. Maybe she was just...used to that.
He didn't want to know why.
"i was just gonna say...you're not alone."
He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder, struggling to find the words. Sun sickness had been a lot more prevalent back during the aftermath of the war—he had no experience dealing with it directly.
"it ain't so bad. you're still here. people down here like you."
"...Do you even like me?"
"huh?"
Angel turned her head just a little, enough to catch his gaze with her own. She looked exhausted, the warm breeze threatening to spill the tears welling up in her eyes.
"I pay attention, you know. You—god, Sans, you only tolerate me cuz I'm friends with Papyrus, right? Sometimes I feel like we get along great, and then something happens and you just...act off. Am I that much of a burden to you? Should I just leave?"
His thoughts flashed back to the day before. The panic that had thrummed through his body at the mere thought of losing her, that same panic that had brought him out here looking for her in the first place.
"i..." He hesitated. "...think it's been a long day, angel. you're tired and homesick and still coming down from the adrenaline high from earlier. you'll feel better in the morning."
Angel just gazed at him for a long, long moment. Those purple eyes searching for something in his expression before they went lax, her face flattening.
"...You're right. You're right. I'm just..." A lump in her throat. The tears began streaking down her face, dripping off her chin. "...so tired."
"hey." His voice was soft now, softer than she'd heard it before. "...i get the feeling, bud."
Her shoulders shaking, she raised a hand and slipped it over the one he had on her shoulder just for some measure of comfort, head ducking and turning away as she quietly hiccuped. He let her hold him there, warm fingers on chilled bones as she anchored herself again in the present.
It was a good long while before she let him take her home.
...
"Hey, Sans...?"
"mhm?"
"I forgot my glasses. You're gonna have to lead me back."
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