#Pop Evil Review
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poptartmochi · 1 year ago
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unfathomable emotions after showering
also.. i hit tag limit on this, so watch out for a very long post if you hit read more on the tags! 😨
#it is frustrating that overall it is fine for customers to use retail/service employees like punching bags. this guy will have no#repercussions for cussing me out beyond the pre-existing frustration that his order isn't ready because it was placed after our deadline#it is frustrating that you can't really defend yourself because 1) it takes too much time and there's too much else to do.#better to let them have the upper hand in their minds 2) they can take anything you saw and spin it against you in a review#like... 😞 i couldn't even get a word in against this guy. honestly i think he was using me as a stress toy because his kid is getting in#trouble for not having uniforms. which really sucks‚ I understand and empathize with that! but to react in such a way is unacceptable#it's common sense that a mom and pop shop will not process your order until the next business day if you ordered outside of their business#hours. i had to explain the way this particular school's ordering system worked to this guy the last time he was in. i provided multiple#alternatives to contacting us that he never utilized. like.. he had the tools to understand everything and instead of using them he decided#to erupt. and because I'm the poor fuck that works the counter‚ i got to be on the receiving end of this. i should know better than to be#upset about it (the eelness talking. everyone else was mad when he left) but. it's also fair to not want to be cussed out over something as#small as school uniforms! 🤨#and don't even get me started on school uniforms.. yes my entire job rn is selling them BUT oh my god. i hate them. they shouldn't be a#thing. especially when these schools cost an arm and a leg in admission + then the uniforms easily cost another#*$100. the entire practice seems evil to me but also it's the family business so. 😭. the way these schools do it also undermines the entire#point of school uniforms which is. uniformity! 🤨 i feel like the minute differences in brand and so forth and so on give kids easy ways to#compare each other and potentially bully each other. the differences in what people provide Could be distracting! if your kid is the only#one wearing a plaid jumper while everyone else has khaki bottoms on‚ they're going to stand out!#so what pray tell is the point 😭 imo it's best to let kids have the freedom of self expression and show up to school however they'd like#in an appropriate way ofc. but i digress 😩 this business is just. deeply frustrating + as if the work itself was not overwhelming‚ the#parents have to throw tantrums about it... I'm so tired! 😭#and they insinuate you fuck around + or say you don't give a shit.. ma'am I've worked so much overtime this year + that's not even counting#the relentless shifts I've worked in my nightmares that occur every night. like.. literally the only thing i do is give a shit about your#order!! at the expense of my sleep and wellness lmao! I don't eat lunch and i barely hydrate because I'm constantly working#but it is thog mode.. thog don't care... 😑 it'd be funny if i didnt care either 🥴😐#to sum up a long rant ig i entered the shower feeling very depressed and I've left angry 🤯 but this is normal methinks#anyhow l + ratio + you work at your family's store + you work customer service + u trip over yourself when u talk etc etc etc 😑😑#one day i will blow that store up with every parent ever. it will be so funny 💖😐😩😑#sriracha.txt#negative cw
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thatgeekwiththeclipons · 2 years ago
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Remembering Academy Award Winning writer, Academy Award Nominated filmmaker and actor Orson Welles! ^__^
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myremains · 2 years ago
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I cannot believe Pop Evil are on album number 7, it feels like yesterday I saw them open up in birmingham just before Onyx came out. They’ve been together for 21 years aswell, I feel so old today. Title track “Skeletons” has that blues and country vibe especially with that clinking chain, reassuring relatable lyrics too a really settled but positive vibed song. “Paranoid (Crash & Burn)” is my new jam, I relate to that song so much, also it’s in your face and contagious, absolutely love it. “Who Will We Become” is very bouncy and gritty with another really big chorus for you to wrap your singing voices round, very positive and uplifting stuff, which is like “Worth” but worth for me is more of a deeper emotional feeling with a strong uplifting reminder. “Dead Reckoning” guest features Fit For A King and naturally as you probably already guessed it’s a bruiser of a song, it gives the song a bit of unique character, which is similar to “Wrong Direction” with Devour The Day except that one’s a bit more melodic but still with some strong crunch. I’ve very much got a Shinedown meets Sevendust vibe going on here, which I’m all for and there will never be a time I won’t be, they’ve come such a long way since I first discovered them and they deserve so much credit and recognition for what they’ve done here.
[9/10]
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gbhbl · 2 years ago
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Album Review: Pop Evil - Skeletons (MNRK Heavy)
How good is this? Pop Evil have well and truly delivered on this new album.
Hard rock group Pop Evil will release their new album, Skeletons, on the 17th of March 2023 via MNRK Heavy. Discussing the album, frontman Leigh Kakaty said: This is about us as a band stripping everything down to the bones. It’s more up-tempo, it’s got bigger riffs, and we’re trying to capture the energy of our live show. But it’s also a positive message, I know it’s a morbid visual, but behind…
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luffington · 7 months ago
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young master ♡
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➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)
➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader
➤ word count: 3.7k
➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling
➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
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Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.
Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!
You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 
The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 
You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 
You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.
You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.
A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”
Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”
He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”
“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 
“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”
Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 
“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 
“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”
Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?
He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 
He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 
Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.
“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 
“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 
“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”
Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”
His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 
They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.
“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”
The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 
You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.
“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 
“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 
You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 
Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 
He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”
“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”
“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 
A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 
Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.
His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.
“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”
“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.
“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”
“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.
“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”
You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.
You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”
Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 
“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.
Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”
A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.
“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.
You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.
“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”
A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 
“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”
“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”
Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 
But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 
Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.
“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 
“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”
“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 
You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 
He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.
“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 
You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 
He came hard. 
The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 
Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 
Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 
You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”
Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 
“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”
The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 
“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”
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graser1112 · 2 years ago
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I posted 9,266 times in 2022
That's 933 more posts than 2021!
281 posts created (3%)
8,985 posts reblogged (97%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@joey-wheeler-official
@dingdongyouarewrong
@millenniumlesbian
@demilypyro
@opbackgrounds
I tagged 402 of my posts in 2022
#youtube - 95 posts
#edens zero - 43 posts
#one piece - 36 posts
#the cuckoo's fiancee - 35 posts
#to your eternity - 30 posts
#fairy tail - 25 posts
#a couple of cuckoos - 25 posts
#fairy tail 100 years quest - 23 posts
#choujin x - 17 posts
#yona of the dawn - 16 posts
Longest Tag: 133 characters
#based on the tbf: sword of life and death subplot where these two destroyed sha wu sheng's hopes and dreams and had brunch afterwards
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Not to repeat myself, but this still IS, WAS, and ALWAYS WILL BE a Wendy Marvell stan account.
4 notes - Posted December 31, 2021
#4
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You go, Lucy!
5 notes - Posted March 9, 2022
#3
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This week on To Your Eternity, Fushi reckons with *checks notes* the theological problem of evil.
5 notes - Posted July 30, 2022
#2
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This is how Ziggy begins...
5 notes - Posted August 23, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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Honestly, Starline had this and much more coming.
6 notes - Posted March 11, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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rarepears · 10 months ago
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A nearby country just had a new monarch ascend the throne. Cang Qiong, as was the norm, was invited to pay their respects to the new monarch, reaffirm the standing alliance between cultivators and mortals (which pretty much boiled down to cultivators kill evil things, mortals stay out of cultivation affairs plus some trade agreements), and ensure that the previous monarch's soul wasn't still lurking around the palace as a ghost. You know, the standard stuff.
So Yue Qingyuan didn't think much when he sent the usual delegation of Shen Qingqiu (to handle the political negotiation and come back with observations of the new Emperor), Shang Qinghua (trade agreements), and Qi Qingqi (to talk with the court ladies and government official wives for the gossip).
The last thing he expected was for the new Emperor to recognize Shen Jiu as the little brother who went missing when the previous Emperor - the new Emperor's paternal uncle, from what Yue Qingyuan understood - undertook a military coup to secure the throne.
---
When Shen Yuan finally killed his super fucking evil tyrant uncle who had been sending a million assassins after Shen Yuan and his (unfortunately now dead) brothers, he got saddled with the throne. He knew that was going to happen! It was something he wasn't asking for, but it was either regain the throne or let his uncle finally succeed in killing him, the rightful Emperor, off. It was pretty shitty that his first month in this new world involved surviving a military coup in the palace where his new dad was murdered by his new uncle for the throne. If Shen Yuan thought being transmigrated into a body that drowned in the pond because of some harem politics for the crown prince position was bad, well, his life got a whole lot fucking worse.
But things were over. He was crowned emperor, had a million super tight best friends all high up in his government backing him, and even the cultivators were recognizing his reign as the legit one, so he was all fine.
Right??
NO! Because why the fuck was he just realizing now that his second life was actually taking place in PIDW and why the fuck was that Shen Qingqiu and the Cang Qiong delegation??? Like, he was busy living on the streets and plotting to retake the throne, sure, but how could he had missed that Cang Qiong was that Cang Qiong!?
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where in the PIDW plot line was he in now? How far along is Shen Qingqiu busy torturing the protagonist and how much longer does Shen Yuan even have to rule his country before the protagonist comes to conquer? How the fuck is he going to stop the plot from continuing - how is he going to remove Shen Qingqiu from the plot?
Shen Yuan isn't proud to admit it, but he rolls with the first shitty idea that pops into his head.
He claims that Shen Qingqiu is his missing younger brother - he had like three dozen of them to be honest, his second life's dad was one horny motherfucker - and tries to keep Shen Qingqiu from going back to Cang Qiong under all sorts of familial pretenses.
Shen Yuan is sure that Cang Qiong is merely humoring his insanity by letting Shen Qingqiu go along with it all, having "family dinners" and making small talk while being careful to skirt around any true political talk, but his plan hasn't backfired on him yet.
YET.
He's sitting on this ticking timebomb and Shen Yuan might be in his 40s but he still feels like the same stupid 20 something year old writing 5k word diss reviews on PIDW chapters some days. If only he had a system to help guide him out of his own mess.
(Meanwhile Shen Jiu: I HAVE AN OLDER BROTHER WHO LOVES ME???? but I'm still sus about his motives. I will reluctantly allow him to shower me in presents and praises and spend time with him to investigate more.)
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thenightling · 7 months ago
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Dead boy Detectives review
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I've watched all eight episodes of Dead Boy Detectives and it was a decent show. It's not something I may obsess over like The Sandman, or The Witcher, but it was decent.
Dead Boy Detectives is the story of Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland. Edwin was killed during a Satanic ritual in 1916. Charles died from hypothermia and internal bleeding after some bullies drove him into an ice-cold lake while throwing rocks at him.
(Note: That was not how Charles actually died in the source material. In the comics, Lucifer had quit and shut down Hell (the basis for the TV show Lucifer) so many evil souls returned to Earth, including the boys that sacrificed poor Edwin. They badly burnt Charles' back on a hot stove and Charles died from his injuries.)
The two ghosts decided to dedicate their afterlife solving mysteries to help other ghosts find peace. They are aided by psychic, Crystal Palace, who is haunted by her abusive ex-boyfriend who happens to be a demon.
Both Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland originated in Neil Gaiman's The Sandman: Season of Mists, The Sandman: Volume 4. Issue 25 of The Sandman comics, and within Act 2 of The Sandman audio drama.
The Dead Boy Detectives made their TV first appearance in Doom Patrol for HBO Max (now Max). During a shakeup at Max the show was moved over to Netflix as to better connect it with The Sandman since that is where they originated.
The show features different actors from the ones that played Charles and Edwin on Doom Patrol.
The Dead Boy Detectives is a decent show but ...it feels a bit like a CW teen drama. I had been told that some of the show's writers were originally writers for the CW... and it shows.
There are some deliberately surreal elements of the show that I think are a callback to their appearance in Doom Patrol.
I love the variety of supernatural entities in the show, including the appearance of two of Morpheus's siblings. Death and Despair. The things I don't like about the show can be considered CW tropes or cliches. The angsty romances and unrequited love. The ham-fisted abusive ex metaphor between Crystal and David The Demon.
And of course the most tedious of CW tropes, the end of the episode pining and angst while a sad pop song plays in the background.
If you look past the CW-ness of it, the show is enjoyable.
The only other things I can complain about is the "connecting thread" subplot of The Afterlife: Lost and Found feels like unnecessary filler. And I wish they would openly establish that Edwin, being an innocent, would NOT return to Hell if collected by Death now. I don't think that should be left hanging over his head. Especially since we're supposed to see Death as a kind entity. Also I think Charles says "Aces" a little too much. It's very distracting and makes me feel like the writers didn't know much late 80s English slang. It would be like if he was an American and they had him say "Radical" all the time. I get that it's kind of his catchphrase but it also got a bit annoying.
The parts I don't like are CW tropes and what I'd consider to be late 90s Vertigo edginess.
The thing I liked were plentiful though. The protagonists were and are likable. The ending is satisfying enough so that if there is only one season this was still good. I liked that it appears that one can ascend out of Hell after some self-reflection as is indicated by the boy Edwin confronted in Hell. The blue light was established to mean ascension, a good afterlife.
I also LOVE the opening credits theme music and animated sequence. It reminds me of the intro to Showtime's Creature Feature movies. (See the trailer for 2001's She Creature, not the 50s version. Watch the trailer at thirteen seconds in, on Youtube, and you'll see what I mean).
That's two Gothic themed shows from Netflix in the last two years with great opening credits sequences. The first being Wednesday. That one won Danny Elfman an Emmy.
It's funny, Wednesday and Dead Boy Detectives (which is a spin-off of The Sandman) have great opening credit intro sequences but The Sandman does not. Apparently Neil Gaiman was told people don't watch the opening credits anymore so The Sandman doesn't have them.
I feel we were cheated out of what could have been a great opening sequence for The Sandman.
Episodes 7 and 8 of Dead Boy Detectives were probably the best of the series. I liked it well enough that if Dead Boy Detectives gets renewed I'll happily watch season 2.
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exhaslo · 11 months ago
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Corruption
(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)
Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?
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Five months before D-Day
It was quiet. Something nearly unheard of in the city of Nueva York. Not even a whoosh of wind or a click of a heel could bring noise to this silent room. Especially not after the vulture of the lab had demanded everyone's silence.
You sat in the corner of the lab, quietly tapping against your tablet. You could not even hear another's breathing. That is how powerful the lead of this lab was when he demanded silence. That was how powerful-
"Miguel?" You whispered lowly.
Miguel O'Hara, otherwise known as Mike, due to his father's pestering nicknaming. Miguel O'Hara was the son of Alchemax's CEO, Tyler Stone, and the smartest scientist in the corporation. He was a man of power, and a man to be feared.
"This better be good, (Y/N)" He said with a hiss.
Oh, how you loved it when your name rolled off his tongue. If only he would have said it a little nicer. You raised your head from your tablet, looking ahead at the scene before you. A man, strapped onto a metal table with lights and strange liquid being entered into his blood. A twisted science experiment that never ended well.
Sometimes you questioned your job. You questioned how you found yourself seated as a secretary, recording each horrible experiment Miguel did. This was not for the faint of heart. You started working for Alchemax about two years ago thanks to a friend who helped you out of college.
You met Miguel a year ago, when you were assigned to be his personal assistant. Since, apparently, everyone else refused to take the job. Once you did your first report with him, you immediately found out why, but that wasn't going to stop you.
"According to my report, the subject purposely ate a peach before agreeing to this test." You explained.
"So?"
"So, the patient is allergic to peaches and is about to go into shock in a matter of minutes now." You huffed.
"Shouldn't affect the procedure."
Oh, how sometimes you wished you could enter Miguel's head and wonder what sick and twisted mind worked in there. Miguel was fascinated with genetic splicing. He always had a new test subject on his table once a week. He wanted to learn how to manipulate their DNA.
However, each experiment always ended in failure and death. The body count Miguel had was enough to lock him up a hundred times over. The man had not a single shred of humanity in him. It was always about the experiment.
"Begin,"
You rolled your eyes, wishing you could stop all of this. You had begged for a way to find the light in Miguel. How could someone so handsome be so evil? It almost made you sick the amount of times you had wet dreams about your monster of a boss.
"Another failure, sir. Perhaps we made a mistake-"
"I never make mistakes." Miguel hissed as he watched his now deformed monster patient lie dead on his table, "Get him out of my sight! Now!"
Right as you started to fill out your report, you noticed the patient's stomach start to inflate. You furrowed your brows before yelling out to everyone that the body was going to pop.
Your efforts were for not. Within the second, everyone in the room was covering in disgusting blood and body parts. You had wanted to throw up, but you did your best to hold it all in. Miguel was already throwing a fit about his lab being dirty, you didn't want to add to the mess.
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Once you were all cleaned, you made your way back to your office. You still had to finish your reports and send them over to Miguel for review. Miguel always demanded perfection. It was amazing how long you even lasted as his assistant. According to everyone, you were the more insane one.
"Oh, Miguel," You muttered, spotting the tall man in your office. Miguel lazily looked at you,
"Took you long enough," He spat. You placed your tablet down,
"Remember that time I told you that being a female requires more shower time?" You said with a smirk. Miguel scoffed as he placed himself onto your work couch, "Not even a smile," You huffed.
"Get working,"
"Yes, yes, oh chosen one." You teased once more.
The only thing that you could collectively agree on was that you were in love with the mad scientist. Giving Miguel a head massage, you stared down at his gorgeous face. You had been working with Miguel for a year. You knew what he liked, what he didn't like and how he worked.
It was safe to say that you were probably the only person in this whole building who understood Miguel. If only he wasn't evil. You would totally asked him out on a date long ago. Each passing day, you hoped that these feelings would go away.
"(Y/N), do my shoulders too," Miguel whispered in a low and sweet voice.
You folded far too easily. Doing what he asked, you knew that Miguel was using you. You had to be blind not to see that, but shit, you couldn't help it. That, and you physically could not quit your job. Both Miguel and his father made sure that no one would quit.
If you'd try, you'd be drugged.
Perhaps one day, you could bring this place to justice. You wanted Miguel to see the error of his ways. If there was any way to change Miguel to see the light, you would. Of course, taking Alchemax down was going to have to be the first step.
But, that was just a fleeting dream.
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Miguel inhaled deeply as you worked on his tense muscles. The only thoughts coursing through his mind were his experiments. How they could have been done differently. Perhaps he needed a different breed of test subjects.
"Let's resume our experiments with spiders," Miguel said with a low groan as you pinched just the right spot. He heard your small whine and scoffed, "We do this every other month."
"I know and you still torture me with it!" You cried softly, moving his to hair. Miguel closed his eyes, enjoying the massage,
"And as usual, I let you pick the next creature to study."
"A seahorse?"
Miguel resisted a chuckle since his first thought was getting males pregnant. How amusing that experiment would be, yet also horrifying. If he were to do that, then he would truly live up to his name as a mad scientist.
You had some dumb and ridiculous ideas. You weren't as smart as the rest of them and Miguel liked that. You were good for him to have around. Someone to remind him that there were those who were just dumb naturally. Of course, he could never say that to your face, or you would start crying.
"Like last time," He whispered ever so softly.
"Hm? Are you thinking rude things again?" You asked with a huff, gently pulling against his hair, "I can always stop this."
"But you won't." Miguel hummed and lazily opened his eyes, "Just be ready for tomorrow. I don't want another disappointment."
Getting himself ready to leave, Miguel fixed up his lab coat before giving you one last glance. He knew that you were attractive. Hell, he had to force his ignorant coworkers to get back to work since all they did was talk about wanting to date you.
Perhaps in another universe, where Miguel wasn't obsessed with his experiments, he would date you. Stepping out of your office, Miguel knew full well what he was doing. He got a rise knowing that he was keeping you all to himself.
Call it villainous, but Miguel enjoyed being selfish. That's how he always got what he wanted. Entering his private office, Miguel's eyes sparkled as he saw a case full of spiders.
"I'll make the perfect specimen, this I swear." He said with a wicked smirk.
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You squirmed in place, not ready to deal with today's experiment. You hated spiders. You wanted nothing to do with them, but Miguel loved them. He was so fascinated about the great hero age and about Spiderman.
Slowly making your way inside the lab, you gasped as scientists dashed past you. Everyone was running around in a panicked frenzy. Wondering what was happening, you gasped as you saw Miguel shaking with anger.
His spider enclosure was knocked over.
You wanted to jump and scream, but you knew that would only anger Miguel more. Hesitantly, you approached Miguel to try and distract him. As you did so, you felt something bite the back of your neck. You flinched and slapped your neck, praying that it was a mosquito.
You bit your lower lip, spotting a spider and nearly cried. Quickly shaking the foul creature away, you hurried to Miguel's side and gently tugged on his sleeve. Miguel hissed as he turned towards you violently,
"WHY AREN'T Y-Oh, (Y/N)," He growled. You were still biting your lower lip, glancing away from him,
"I know now isn't the best time, but why don't we-"
"Whatever it is, let's go while these fucking IDIOTS find my spiders," Miguel roared in anger.
You just nodded, leading Miguel out of the room as you quietly prayed for your fellow coworkers. Miguel was not going to let them rest until all of his spiders were found...including the one you just murdered.
"Why don't you tell me what you were going to work on while we go to lunch? I think a meal break would help," You suggested, tapping away on your tablet. Miguel stroked his hand through his hair, cussing lowly in Spanish,
"Sounds like a plan."
You smiled as you led Miguel to your lunch destination. You were proud to say that whenever Miguel was going to have a meltdown, you were able to calm him down someway or another. Call it talent, but you loved being reliable.
However, that talent seemed to be failing you now. You couldn't keep focus during lunch and Miguel seemed to be getting annoyed. You weren't sure what was happening to you, but your body felt like it was on fire. Could it have been from the spider bite?
"Sorry, Miguel...I just...need to..." You whispered before collapsing.
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Miguel was growing irritated as he watched you waver in place. You were fine just a moment ago. If there was one thing Miguel hated, it was when someone lost interest in his conversation. This had never happened to you, so why now?
Right as you stood, you immediately came tumbling down. Like instinct, Miguel caught you and noticed that you had a fever. A small scoff escaped his lips as he carried you out of the restaurant and back into his company car.
"Take us to (Y/N)'s apartment. Fool got herself sick,"
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Next Chapter
@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content
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jesncin · 6 months ago
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Okay, I'll bite, what are your feelings on the trans conner pitch?
Oh boy! Thank you for tossing me this bone because I have a lot of mixed feelings!
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I notice that people online are very hot and cold about the Trans Superboy Pitch, they either love it or hate it and that doesn't leave a lot of room for nuance + discussion. So to be respectful to a fellow trans peer in the industry, I want to do a fair review/analysis of Skyrocket: the trans Conner Kent pitch by Magdalene Visaggio.
My general takeaway from the pitch is that I like the premise, but the details fumble the execution for me. I can really feel from reading the pitch that Visaggio cares about Superboy. She understands that he's a very weird legacy character who has struggled to find proper footing in the DC Universe after all these years. An effective legacy character is one who is able to spin off and expand upon the themes of the character whose mantle they carry. But the cheesy whatever-goes 90's-ness of Superboy's original run didn't give future writers a lot to work with in terms of a Superman Legacy Character.
It's why I genuinely believe the later retcon reveal that -part of Conner's DNA is from Lex Luthor- is a fantastic addition to his character. It takes a character who was just kind of screwing off to gentrify Hawaii back into the center of Superman's good vs evil conflict. But now Conner's problem is that his story is too tied to his origin and Superman's shadow. Placing Conner with the Kents in Smallville afterwards made him narratively redundant. What's next for him?
So let's dig into the pitch!
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I like what's at the heart of this pitch. It's a very season-3-ATLA-Zuko "honor wasn't all it's cracked up to be" arc and I think that suits Conner's character really well! It's the details I have gripes with:
"Conner has been largely relegated to the Jason Todd of the Superfamily" oof, haha that's not a particularly fair characterization.
The constant comparing of Superman to Christian imagery. He's described as basically "Jesus goddamn Christ" in the pitch. The Tyrannical Kryptonians are named Saint, Shepherd and Savior. No surprise I don't like seeing a character who allegorically represented Jewish immigrants to be constantly compared to Christian imagery and deified.
It's inevitable with pitching to the company, but the pitch is bogged down by a lot of convoluted plot points. I get that it's necessary to pitch event tie-ins and universe hopping shenanigans, but it's a lot.
Leland feels like a plot device in this. I'm sure there were plans to flesh out the brotherly clone relationship between him and Conner so that he can feel like his own character, but from the summary he just kind of revolves around Conner the way the pitch describes Conner revolving around Superman. Oops!
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Conner's relation to Luthor and Superman works as a story about legacy, bloodlines and the things parents pass down to their kids. It's best when handled thematically and not literally because it's easy to get into essentialist "good genes" vs "evil genes" near-eugenics talking points. Unfortunately this pitch has a lot of that vibe. Leland has more Lex genes so he's super smart. Conner and Leland are able to start a schism in the Future Tyrannical Kryptonian House by "proving their truer genetic link to the original Superman, unsullied by thousands of years of tinkering" thereby gaining allies. Not great!
The part where Conner wants to find "his own Metropolis" by moving to Dripping Springs, Texas. That's Jinny Hex's field of operations, so is it really his own space? I would've just given Conner a new town so he can better stand on his own and build out a unique cast system.
Okay let's talk about the trans stuff!
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I get that it makes for an Iconic Visual Superhero Moment, but I really don't like the part where Conner steps through a magical crystal and pops out the other side as a trans woman. It robs her of having that discovery on her own. The pitch says "I believe that this is as natural a move as Iceman's coming out". And just?? Man, remember when Jean Grey read Iceman Bobby Drake's mind and robbed him of his agency by outing him through that invasion of privacy? For a pitch all about Conner's journey of defining herself, it weirdly robbed her of that moment.
The pitch does such a good job talking about how Conner feels like her whole life revolves around Superman and how pointless wanting to be Superman feels now that Jon Kent has taken the mantle. She has Clark's genes, goes to Clark's hometown school, is raised by Clark's parents and all that. So then why is she eventually named after the women in Clark's life? Constance "Connie" Lara Kent. Clark's Kryptonian mom and human grandma? Was the world so small that she could not name herself after anyone else or come up with a new name? Connie doesn't even get to name herself, her new name is one Martha Kent bestows her with. It's hypocritical, and doesn't have the same impact that Superman giving Superboy a Kryptonian name does.
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Speaking of which, this right here is my biggest gripe. It's not in the pitch itself but?? Wait- why go on about how Conner deserves a name that's not given to her and then turn around and make Martha name her? Sure, Connie comes up with the superhero name "Skyrocket" herself but surely she also deserves to name herself considering the thesis the pitch built up about self discovery and agency right?
Also with all due respect, this is the whitest queer take on Conner's identity. I wish white trans people could understand that you can have multiple true names that reflect different parts of you.
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When Clark gives Superboy the name "Kon-El" it matters that it's given. It ties so well to the idea of familial acceptance into a nearly-extinct culture. You wouldn't know how to reclaim that part of your identity when that culture's been wiped out, so of course it's an honor to be trusted with a name that preserves Krypton's culture. This is a common practice with diaspora reclaiming cultural names from closed cultures, they are gifted their names by someone more culturally connected. I think the pitch having Martha name Connie is trying to echo this, but it doesn't hit the same without that cultural context. It also undercuts the genuine joy Conner felt from finally having a name he truly identifies with. Conner was only ever referred to as Superboy before then. When Clark gives him the name Kon El, Conner cries out that Kon El is his "real name". It's one of his defining moments, and to have that be diminished by saying "It's still a name someone else gave him" is so disappointing.
Then there's the design.
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This is gonna lean more into preference, but I'm not the biggest fan of this design! I get what it's going for but it has too much going on everywhere. It also doesn't have that proto-punk look original Conner had, so it ends up not feeling like him. It's too superhero, and not enough casual-wear-on-a-supersuit that Conner sports really well. I see how it fits in with the everyone-in-Superfam-is-wearing-jackets-era, but I also think those new designs don't look good either. Especially Supergirl's. I feel like Conner should be more punk post transition. No respectability beam for her!
Also the name Skyrocket? It's giving knock off-brand toy vibes to me I'm sorry D: People on twidder suggested Supernova and that sounds way better! Even Visaggio stated she prefers that name so you can't be mad at me for this.
Overall big conclusion feelings!
I've been following Visaggio's work for a while because it's awesome seeing trans people getting picked up in comics. While there are some things about her writing I like, for the most part I've felt like her work isn't my cup of tea. I tried reading up a bunch of interviews she's in to try to understand why her writing wasn't clicking with me, and what I discovered is that we have fundamentally different approaches to queer storytelling.
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From Paste Magazine. I get where she's coming from, trans characters deserve to have multi-faceted narratives that don't overly center how they're othered at the expense of further characterization. But also? I just actually find the interior lives of queer people and identity interesting. I like writing the kind of escapism and joy that's informed by surviving and inheriting hardships rather than erasing those things or skipping past it. I think this is why Connie is robbed of her trans discovery in the pitch. Why we don't get to watch her grapple with gender identity in a political way. Queer stories about queer struggles are considered archaic and unnecessary nowadays. It's part of the escapism Visaggio values in her work; to give a place of respite for trans readers from the cruelty they experience in reality, but I don't connect to stories like that personally. Whenever I try to share queer Indonesian art and writing with my peers, I'm often told it's too painful to look at. That our pain doesn't fit the modern expectation for happy, empowering queer stories. "trans people get enough hardships in real life, they don't need that in their fiction" Visaggio still talks about her newest projects like this btw.
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I'd love to see a take on Conner that more holistically continues the political immigrant themes of Superman. The white parts of fandom love interpreting Conner's identity crisis as primarily a queer struggle, but it's also one of a person grappling with his mixed heritage. He's a diaspora kid separated by a generation away from Krypton. He has yet to make peace with the Luthor side of his identity, one borne of generational trauma and resentment for one's roots. Instead of a take where his queerness separates him from the pressures of legacy, I want to see a Conner take that has themes that are intersectional about his mixed diaspora and queer identity. I want his superficial punk aesthetic to graduate into actual punk ideals. The anti-establishment and radical love philosophies of punk culture would make such a cool extension of Superman themes and it would make so much sense that someone facing so many intersections of marginalization would be radicalized from their experience. I want a queer Conner who isn't just empowering and idealistic, I want one that also gives space for queer readers to feel like their pain is seen too. Conner isn't "Truth, Justice and the American Way" he's famously "Truth, Justice, My Way".
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There's a tendency in media criticism to treat marginalized talent as infallible, and I don't think that fair to creatives like Visaggio. Being able to look at their ideas with nuance instead of essentializing it as being Good or Trash is the best way to respect diverse creativity. And my nuanced feelings are that a white queer person who looks at Conner's story and just sees the queer part and dismisses the diaspora mixed heritage side of him,,, is not going to give me the Conner story I want to see.
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months ago
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So Hazz being ‘stunned’ about the backlash to the Pat Tillman award, reminds me of his shock at the ‘frosty’ reception he received at Prince Philip’s funeral. How on earth does he think letting his ‘feelings’ loose via the much hated media will improve the situation is beyond me. I can’t even remember why announcement the winning of the award was done so early, but more than probably RF related. Is it a case of keeping digging to get out of the hole or a massive PR plan that’s going over my head?
Harry wants attention and legitimacy in the US. He thought being a British prince and Diana’s son was enough to make us love and respect him (like it sort of did in the UK) but it didn’t happen.
So now he’s scrambling. Except he’s been scrambling since March 2020 when Edward Young and the BRF called his bluff on half in/half out. Let’s review.
January 2020: He demanded half in/half out and they all laughed at him.
March 2020: Harry signed with the Harry Walker Agency to be a speaker on their lecture/hotel dinner circuit. He gave like two or three speeches to pathetic reception and then gave up.
April 2020: Harry became a mental health advocate during the COVID pandemic and crisis, making comments like he didn’t understand how people living in high-rise apartments could cope without having a green space and that everyone needed some kind of green space for their sanity (yeah, no shit, Sherlock. That’s why COVID was also an enormous mental health crisis.) and encouraging everyone to become certified mental health counselors if they’re bored.
Summer 2020: Harry uses Diana’s memory to justify invading an elementary school with a camera crew during peak summer COVID cycle to plant forget-me-nots. Everyone pops off and it’s clear the backlash stunned the Sussexes.
Fall 2020: The Sussexes rebrand to become misinformation activists.
Winter 2020/2021: The Sussexes rebrand to the Emancipation of Meghan Markle. Philip dies. Harry rebrands to Hero Harry by demanding to wear his military uniform, resulting in no one wearing their military uniforms. He also pivots back to William's Best Brother at the funeral by ignoring the actual arrangements to walk alongside William (as opposed to behind him; Peter was supposed to walk next to William).
Summer 2021: Meghan wants world domination and the Sussexes rebrand to become humanitarian ambassadors.
Fall 2021: Harry rebrands to become a hairdresser global vax advocate. He and Meghan become the figurehead for the Vax Live concert.
December 2021: Harry pivots back to Diana and says his work with COVID is as groundbreaking as her work with HIV/AIDS patients.
February 2022: Harry rebrands as a dude who watches American football by going to the Superbowl and looking bored af.
March 2022: Harry and Meghan buy a new NAACP award for themselves for all the work they did fighting unconscious bias and racism in the BRF.
Spring 2022: Harry goes back to being Hero Harry with The Hague Invictus Games. He pivots back to being a royal when he attends the Platinum Jubilee with Meghan.
Summer 2022: The Emancipation of Meghan Markle continues and Harry re-rebrands as a humanitarian activist, giving an unpassionate speech to a mostly-empty conference room at the United Nations. Unfortunately The Queen dies and Harry gets to pivot back again to being a royal. He gets thrown a Hero Harry PR bone when he's allowed to wear his uniform to the Grandchildren's Vigil and gets to stand behind William and Kate in the procession.
Fall 2022: The Emancipation of Prince Harry's Unconscious Bias begins, with critically-reviled Netflix docuseries.
January 2023: Harry pivots back to Diana and picks up her mantle to destroy Charles and the BRF. He takes it a step further by going after William, when everyone knows Diana only wanted to destroy Charles to put William in his rightful place as soon as possible.
Winter/Spring 2023: Harry abandons his "I hate my family, they're evil" rebrand to go back into the royal fold by attending Charles's coronation.
May 2023: Harry pivots back to Diana by claiming a near-death chase by paparazzi on the busy streets of downtown Manhattan. Damn, if only there was a white fiat instead of witnesses.
Summer 2023: Harry pivots back to his Hero Harry at the Dusseldorf Invictus Games. He also becomes Polo Harry and becomes #husbandgoals when he joins Meghan at a Beyonce concert and looks bored out of his mind.
Fall 2023: Harry pivots back to mental health when he joins Meghan for a panel with Carson Daly on the dangers of social media.
Winter 2023: Harry rebrands as Hero Harry and purchases the Living Legend in Aviation Award for himself, while accusing John Travolta of dining out on his mother. Harry pivots to Hollywood and goes to Jamaica for a movie premiere.
Spring 2024: Harry goes back to Hero Harry and Invictus Games. Harry also pivots back to being a British royal prince with a very misguided tour of Nigeria.
Summer 2024: Hero Harry continues and he purchases the Pat Tillman ESPY.
Look at all the times Harry changed tactics. He can't stick with something long enough to make an impact because he - like his wife - is so impatient for validation. He just wants to be loved! Why won't they love him?! "That's okay," crones Meghan in her soothing Southern California vocal fry as she rocks her toddler husband to calm him out of his anxiety spiral (because she's the only one allowed to collapse in a heap on the floor). "Hush little baby don't you cry. Mama's going to buy you valor and honor."
And that cheers Harry up because Americans like gold (after all, we're the land of 'everyone gets a participation trophy,' Olympic gold medals, and world domination). If we see how many gold trophies and awards he has, then we'll respect him the same way the British public respected and adored him for his titles.
But that's their mistake. They've missed the fundamental realization that Americans don't care about titles and awards. We value action, deeds, follow-through, promises made and promises kept. That's the backlash (and the cause and effect, to quote an earlier post I made) that Harry keeps getting. He doesn't understand that we're a pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps-and-don't-complain-how-hard-it-is-just-do-it nation of rebels and troublemakers. We're not going to sit idly by and watch a rich foreigner - from the monarchy that we booted in the first place - wax poetic on our national problems and pat himself on the back for buying awards that make him feel like he's fixed all our problems.
Not when there's real people doing the actual work whose credit he keeps stealing to buy those awards in the first place.
Anyway. I don't remember what my point was...
Oh, right. This is just Harry trying to find value and relevance here in the US. Everything else - Diana, COVID, misinformation, mental health, Hollywood, Meghan, racism and unconscious bias, British prince - sinks faster than he can claim he never got swimming lessons even though William was personally trained on how not to drown by David Hasselhoff and Pamela Anderson themselves (or whatever his pathetic excuse is. Hero Harry and the veterans is the only thing Harry has left that people pay attention to, and the media is only paying attention to that because Meghan buys them to cover her during all of the Invictus events.
So very long rant short, Harry keeps defaulting back to Invictus Games because it's the only thing that *works* for him. It's the only thing he has left that ties him to the life he used to know (globally adored and nationally beloved British royal soldier). He's going to hold onto it harder, faster, and more angrily than a toddler holding on to something they're not supposed to have.
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vernalloy · 6 months ago
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Thing is with a lot of cluster B headcanons (& canons) by people without those disorders try to gain insight by reaching for the DSM/ICD. Which is like, a choice one has with like ADHD and schizophrenia, but personality disorder descriptions are incredibly biased and mostly review the external and harmful presentations of internal struggles. And if one of the symptoms is attention-seeking— a lot of actual struggle, if not all, can be brushed off by those in charge of their care.
There also pops up this issue with that schizophrenia & personality disorders tend to be chosen for characters who have already been decided to be evil— sympathy is already off limits and so interviewing the actual people is seen as a fruitless endeavor because those people are inherently and eternally violent or manipulative.
I don’t think it’s impossible to write a character with a disorder you don’t have, but especially in such stigmatized cases as this, it should be done with a heart in your chest, a head on your shoulders, and maybe a review board if any are willing.
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nicole-ashwood · 20 days ago
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Double Exposure: A guide on how we make them pay and the signs that will show it's working
Yes, I know a lot of the hate is going to Deck Nine, and believe me some of that is deserved. But ultimately Square has final Veto power and dictates where the story goes thanks to studio mandates.
Either way, this first part is how we focus our own power and make the bastards fix this. You want change? Here's a guide.
Do not buy ANY more Life is Strange products. Corporate bastards only pay attention to cash flow. Hit their wallets.
If you have self control and decent writing skills, leave a review on Metacritic. Praise what works (Hannah, some of the writing, the inklings of a background plot revolving around an evil future Max), and damn everything else.
Everyone else? Try and do the same on Steam. Just make sure you have enough playtime (~30 min - 1 hour) so people will be more aware. Quality doesn't matter on Steam so much as the Community Score.
Attack the story and writing choices, not the cast and writers. Bosses exist for a reason, focus your fire if you plan on referencing anyone.
Do not dox, send death threats, or do ANYTHING that they can use to justify your dismissal. You want this fixed, don't stoop to their level.
If you can, vote in any game awards the series appears in. Hannah has another game on the way, we'll make sure she gets her proper praises then.
Get your opinions where they matter. Instagram, TikToc, Reddit, and Twitter are where the search algorithms look. Make sure people know how bad they fucked up here.
Return the game if you can, and just watch Let's Plays. Bleed them dry.
This game will only sell if we aren't loud enough. Games are expensive. Your average buyer will still look up reviews and scores before they pop down a 50.
You want change? Don't say it's hopeless and get to work.
You die when you lose hope, and if anything I at least plan on taking as big a chunk out of them as possible before then.
And now for signs we need to keep an eye out for.
Anonymous Employee leaks and what tone they are going with. If the leaks show us things like Arcadia Bay, character returns, or anything else that gives us a hint to the plot taking place in AB, those are good signs.
Keep an eye on anyone who might return, and what their upcoming work is. Rhianna/Chloe has the mystery Lead and is our best clue, but the actors for Joyce, David, Victoria, Steph, Alex, and Ryan are all people we need to keep an eye out for. If they plan on bringing in LiS 2, then keep an eye out for Daniel's actor. He is the only one who could really return.
Watch for updates to the Remasters and series wide collectors editions. Square is going to milk the shit out of any capstone game, and this is where they'll do it.
Look for collabs that feature Max AND Chloe. Those will be meant to keep the series fresh in peoples minds up until 2027/early 2028 (assuming the tweet screenshot I posted previously continues to be true).
Books that highlight Chloe's view will probably be on the way soon. A lot of the stuff we've seen regarding Chloe in this game points to them revising what they originally wrote so Chloe appeared less toxic then originally wanted (yes, I just heaved when I wrote that). These books will continue to soften her, and ensure that she is single for the next game. Yeah, I fully expect the next game to ape the theme of restoring bonds from the first.
Keep an eye on their LinkedIn. As of this writing, they have 101 employees, half of which are artists and designers. Expect that number to increase come January. The finance report for this game will be out by then, and Square will probably pour more cash into D9 to hasten the next games release.
This series can be salvaged. It needs to be salvaged, if anything because it's the loudest voice gaming has for those who are marginalized. This series, in our current hellworld, is too damn important to end on some bullshit pivot like this, but it's only going to make it if we force their hands ourselves.
If you are a fan.
If you care about LGBTQ+ issues.
If you want to help those who feel alone and without anything to look up to in life.
Then by the Gods you damn well better do your part.
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bitterkarella · 8 months ago
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Midnight Pals: Fox Devils
Sam Richard: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the fox devils Richard: it's about this kid from a super religious family Richard: they don't even let him watch cartoons! Richard: [shaking head] they don't even let him watch cartoons.
Richard: his parents are so religious they think all pop culture is satanic William Peter Blatty: yes, yes Blatty: they're right you know Blatty: that's why i don't sully my brain with any non-catholic entertainment Blatty: the only thing i watch is pope speeches Blatty and Cars 2
Richard: his mother says "cartoons" are "a satanic playpen" and "tiny idols" Richard: and that he needs to be "a warrior for christ" Barker: why's she talk like that Richard: like what? Barker: like a zagat review
Richard: so one day his parents are at bible study Richard: so he decides to watch a forbidden cartoon Richard: his parents think that cartoons are satanic, you see Richard: turns out that they're right Blatty: i could have told you that
Richard: see, there's this cartoon Richard: where a bunch of punks finds a satanic grimoire King: wait, they put a satanic grimoire in a cartoon? Richard: yes Richard: really incredible the sort of things they put in cartoons these days Blatty: yeah this all scans
Richard: and then the kid finds that same satanic grimoire in his local library Richard: cuz it turns out this town he lives in Richard: is really cool
Richard: the kid summons all these little fox devils Richard: who follow him around and kill people Richard: just a bunch of little guys Richard: some real little birthday boys
Richard: but the important thing about these little fox demons Richard: if this was a movie Richard: we'd be talking some real wet puppets Roger Corman: yes Corman: YES
Richard: now the kid's gonna fuck up the evil town reverend Richard: but the reverend's not important Richard: what is important is these fox demons Richard: they are adorable Richard: you're gonna want one of your very own!
Corman: you know what would be great? Corman: what if they killed people in really comical ways Corman: like with a pogo stick or something Corman: and there could be like Corman: comical high-pitched chittering on the soundtrack Charles Band: i like the way roger thinks
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gofancyninjaworld · 7 days ago
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OPM Manga chapters 195-6 Review
Right, let's do this. I had intended to review chapters 195 through 197, but if I want to write this to a usable length, I need to be a little more brief.
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Summary
195
Man, what's a ninja gotta do to nurse his aching head in peace? No sooner does Sonic settle down for a nice sulk with a big bag of ice and water on his head than those two turkeys, Gale Wind and Hellfire Flame, pop up with the intention of attacking him. Before Sonic can do anything about them, they're taken out by two other ninjas who introduce themselves. They're followed swiftly by several others. Collectively, they're the Tenninto, and they plan to kill Blast and Flashy Flash and rule the world under the tutelage of That Man. They task Sonic with luring Flash out to this hiding place on the morrow so they can execute him. Then they vanish, leaving Sonic to think on their words.
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Quite the collection!
Elsewhere, back at the Hero Association, we've met the great man himself. After his initial surprise, Saitama thanks Blast for getting him out of the hole, to which Blast replies that not only was it no bother, but Saitama's appearance had saved him the trouble of seeking him out. Saitama's remarkable strength had caught his eye.
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Real recognise real.
Hearing that, Flash interjected that if Blast was interested in his disciple, then he'd have to take a number -- Saitama had a prior engagement. Saitama denies this, but before that goes anywhere, Sicchi jumps in to say that Blast has confirmed that he was the one who defeated Garou. Saitama replied that he really didn't remember, which set Sicchi off on a rant about how imperative it was for him to remember. As Saitama continues not to get it, we are treated to a flashback of the conversation between Sicchi and Blast.
Without a doubt, the Earth had been in trouble, Blast told Sicchi. However, he had no idea how strong Saitama really was: it appeared unfathomable. While they did need to find out what Saitama's deal was, he did not seem like a bad guy, so he could just be left at liberty for now. This was a relief to Sicchi as he was sure that Genos would turn him into an ashtray if he laid a finger on Saitama. More pressingly, was the end of this monster Association trouble and Garou the aversion of the prophesized crisis?
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Fathoming Saitama? Good luck with that!
Not even close, Blast said. Worse was yet to come.
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By the pricking of my thumbs, something evil this way comes. Like my ex.
196
We carry on right where we left off. Flashy Flash is tired of talking about his disciple and asks Blast to talk to him about God. Blast looks at Flashy for a moment. He then tells the ninja to forget about fighting god, for he would surely die. Flashy Flash doesn't take this line down. He wants, no needs, to chop God up with his sword. Saitama unwisely asks why, and we're treated to a flashback.
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Go home, kid. This isn't your bag. That's what Blast wants to say.
Flashy Flash recounts how, in the Village he had been raised in, he and his friend (he doesn't mention Sonic by name) encountered a cube and the village leader, who had been entombed in a recovery capsule. Flashy Flash surmises that 'That Man' was granted Power by God, and thus, the Village was a faculty to turn out minions for God under the guise of running a first-class school for assassins.
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Flashy Flash doing his best Inspector Closeau impression.
Blast doesn't applaud his powers of deduction, but what he says next jibes with it. 'That Man' is his partner, named Empty Void. They had been searching for cubes together, and he had been seduced by God. Blast felt responsible for failing to stop him and regretted the young lives lost in the village as well as their many victims. It was his problem to solve.
So you let him get away? Flashy Flash asked.
Blast winced but explained that he'd been able to wound him severely.
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Awfully specific number, no? It's almost like he knows something...
So you let him get away, Flashy Flash states, adding that Blast's softness was unfitting for the top hero. Never mind, he would find God himself, he said, squaring up to Blast.
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Saitama breaks the tension by asking Blast what he wants to do with his partner. Just then, over a tannoy, there is an announcement that experimental procedure preparations were complete. Blasts invite Saitama and Flashy Flash to watch. Below them, three monsters -- ex-martial artists from the Super Fight -- were strapped upright to boards. As they watched, the monsters were blasted with powerful electric shocks, causing them to scream and writhe in agony. The experiment was stopped to avoid killing the monsters, and they collapsed limply on being released from their restraints.
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You could call this a tense situation.
A failure, Flashy Flash says. Just then, one of the monsters, Hamukichi, crawls back and straps himself in, asking for the procedure to continue. He couldn't face the children at the dojo like this. The shocks recommence, and while he can't take it for long, it seems that the separation of the monster cells has begun.
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If you're a believer in redemption through pain, then demonsterization through extensive electric shocks definitely qualifies.
Sicchi noted that it corroborated what Bang had reported, that demonsterization depended on the will of the person. Flashy Flash thanks for a moment and adds that this is a very risky experiment. Could Void even be captured alive?
Just then, something catches Blast's attention. Shouting 'oh no!', he smashes his fists together. Outside, the Hero Association building is surrounded by a bubble of light and Pops out of existence. Clouds swirl around it as air rushes in to fill the sudden void. Suddenly, the ground is torn up by multiple slashes, and crevasses open up. Once the attack passes, the building pops back into existence. On top of the building, another light bubble appeared and disgorged blast, Saitama, Flash, Manako, and Sicchi.
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Now you see it, now you don't.
Everyone looks around in shock other than Saitama, who is merely mildly interested, and Blast, who is unsurprised. This is Void's dimensional slash, he explains to the others. Looks like Void is fully recovered now.
Do you think you can win? Saitama asks Blast. Well, I do have some ideas, and I haven't been doing nothing in the interim.
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Cocky or quietly confident? Only more chapters will tell!
Meta below the cut.
Meta
You expect an artist not to draw?
I don't need to rack my mind too hard as to why these chapters have been revised. For 195, having Blast and Saitama not recognising each other despite Blast having gotten the latter out of a hole was weird, and it was a bit of a missed opportunity if Sicchi had not asked Blast for his version of events. For 196, I'm no fly on the wall, but the idea of Murata penning a page full of words from a dying ninja hyping up the Village Leader without evidence probably did not sit right with him. If he's so amazing, let me SHOW IT! And boy howdy has ONE delivered a storyboard to fit. It's as ONE has said in an interview elsewhere, the nice thing about working with talented artists is that you can do more with your story.
Saved for later
We may have lost the story of how Manako was derived from Psykos, but we still have the allusion to it in her declaring herself as never having been human. It may return someday. Very little is wasted; things are mostly repurposed.
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Humility comes hardest of all
Today has been another good day for Flashy Flash getting shook. He went with the intention of teaching Saitama a thing or two, but it hasn't quite gone to plan. Not only has he been rudely reminded of how weak he is compared to Saitama, but the minion of the God he wishes to slash up has turned out to have a power that he cannot begin to comprehend, much less oppose. Will he be humble? Not a chance!
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Maybe this slashing God up plan could do with some revision...
In contrast, Saitama is as unruffled as ever. His only irritation at this juncture has been getting a long story when he didn't want one. Everything else is mildly interesting.
Yeah, I know I haven't named the ninjas. I will have to mention them later: they did introduce themselves, but we know that they're not long for this world.
Threads
On to more interesting things, then. I really have to say that I love how the long-running themes, some of which had seemed to be throw-away devices, are now coming back into play. Take the martial artists for one. It would have been absolutely fine if we didn't know anything about what happened to them: being monsters, we would presume them killed. So it's really interesting to see that at least three of them have been captured alive and are being experimented on with the objective of turning them back into people, seeing as they didn't originally want to become monsters but were coerced into doing so.
It's also very interesting to me that another throwaway, which was the people who Super S had captured and tried to brainwash into becoming monsters, all reverted to being human again after Bang knocked her out. It seems that his report has been critical in giving the Hero Association the idea that it was worth trying to reverse (at least some cases of) monsterization instead of just killing monsters or using them as pets or other inhumane things, like weapons practice.
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I really thought those monsters were dead back then. Good to see they've got some value.
Multi-dimensional fuckery
Not so long-running, but equally important, Blast and Saitama have recognized each other. It would have been strange for Blast to have no idea of how strong Saitama really was. The fact that he has learned something about this means that the story is likely to take some more interesting twists and turns. It is also good to see that the secret meeting regarding god continues to yield results. I suspect that the only reason Sicchi discussed Saitama with Blast was Genos's unbelievable story. Seeing that some of it has been corroborated is good to see. Other things haven't been left to hang as long: the ongoing threat of the prophecy is still alive and well, as Void's attack shows. The ability to attack from another dimension is a terrifying one. Weapons can appear anywhere, even within oneself, and there is no such thing as being hidden, at least not in a three-dimensional space. Garou may have gotten the power from God and learned how to make dimensional gates from Blast, but he didn't have the time to consider fully what he could really do with it; Void has had that time.
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I know many people are impatient to see just how big a fight between Blast and Void can be, but all in good time. OPM is not necessarily about the fights, even though it can deliver on the spectacle when it wants to. More important than who punches Who and what fancy technique is used, the questions of how long Blast has known Void, how long he has known about the Village (some of those ninjas are in their fifties -- Void didn't start this place up just because of 'God'), and why he wants to save Void remain to be answered. I'm sure that some of those answers are not going to be edifying.
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porcelainseashore · 2 months ago
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Coffee & Secrets (4)
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader
Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.
Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing
AO3 Link
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Chapter 4: Plans
“Claire?”
You had whirled around with a mop in your hand at the unexpected intrusion, catching sight of the familiar redhead grinning like a Cheshire Cat at the door. It was partway into your cleaning routine—one you usually completed before the shop was open.
Your eyes flew to the sign at the entrance. Well, that explains it. You had left it on the other way round by accident. Oops.
“The one and only,” she crooned. “Told you I would come back.”
“A woman of your word,” you acknowledged in appreciation. Discarding the cleaning equipment in the closet, you took down the postcard you had pinned to the fridge with a kitsch souvenir magnet.
She swiped the card from your hands mischievously, asserting, “So, I believe I’m long overdue for a drink?”
“What would’ya like to have?”
“Definitely something with caffeine in it,” she declared, placing a hand on her hip as if she meant business.
Fanning herself with the postcard, she proceeded to confide in you about her recent life changes. “I can’t actually stay long, Mr. Bertolucci’s got me on doc review tonight.”
You halted suddenly in the middle of preparing the drink, a wooden spoon suspended in the air, green powder swirling like dust motes around the tea bowl. The chashaku and the chawan.
“You’re Ben’s new intern?” you questioned, giddy with excitement.
“Yeah…? It’ll count towards my college credit. I’m a journalism major,” she clarified before teasing, “That also means I’ll be in town for a while, so you better get used to me! Say, you know the guy?”
You laughed soundly as you whisked the matcha into a thick paste with a traditional chasen. Looks like he took your suggestion to heart after all. “He’s a regular.”
Steaming the full-cream milk to perfection, you frothed it up before adding it layer by layer to the paste, your hand moving with practiced precision to create a delicate pattern in the bowl. When you were satisfied with the piece, you gave it to Claire, and at the same time, pointed to the armchair in the corner. “Usually sits over there and works through the night.”
“Yeah, he’s really passionate about it,” Claire concurred, cupping the bowl that she received from you with both hands. “I like that he doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit.”
“Just make sure you get enough rest too,” you reminded her. “Have plenty of breaks.”
“Thanks, mom…” she quipped, rolling her eyes as she punched your shoulder playfully. “So, how’s our all-star cop doing?”
“Leon?” you asked casually, busying yourself with arranging the drinkware and ingredients even though you had already laid them out the night before. “He pops by every so often.”
“Like, every day…?” she probed.
How did she—?
You paused your fiddling and peered up at her. “Who told you that?”
A devilish smirk emerged. “I heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.” She took a sip from the bowl, her face lightening up in contentment. 
“He kept jabbering on about you, hounding me to visit your shop. Not that I wasn’t planning to myself already,” she sighed exasperatedly.
“Oh.” You continued where you left off, this time taking a dry cloth to polish the glassware for the umpteenth time. If you squinted hard enough, there was always a speck of dust you missed.
“It seems you’re now very interested in that glass,” she said, exposing the truth of the matter behind your evasiveness. 
Damn, she would make a good journalist.
“He likes the menu, speaking of which, how’s the Matcha Latte?” you changed the subject smoothly.
“I’m sure he likes a lot more than that,” she muttered into the bowl before raising her voice to reply, “I love it! It tastes like the real deal—”
Suddenly, the door flung open, and you could hear Ben calling out with a sense of urgency, “Redfield! I got something on the footage, you might wanna check it out!” 
He tossed a roll of film over to Claire, who dove and caught it like a baseball player in a major league game. Then, he craned his neck in your direction. “The strongest coffee you've got, to go. I think we’re onto something here!”
Giving him a mock salute, you whipped up the Triple Espresso that he was fond of and poured it into a takeaway cup, fastening on the lid as you handed it over to him.
“Life saver,” he mumbled, slipping you the cash for both drinks with a generous tip before dashing out of the shop with Claire in tow, who managed to yell out a quick “Bye!” as she ran after him.
You only had a few minutes to rest until you heard a loud commotion coming from the outside. Hurrying to the door, you could make out the voices of Leon and another boisterous man, as if he had drunk something stronger.
“This the place?”
“No, Ryman, I’m not taking you in there! Let’s get you home.”
“Why? I’ve got two legs, don’t I? Never asked for a babysitter.”
“You won’t like it anyway, it’s not a bar.”
“Aww, come on, rookie! Gotta show me this girl you’re head over heels for!”
“It’s not like that! And don’t call me by that name!”
“Or what, Kennedy? You gonna sue me?”
At this, you swung the door open, and the two men stared at you sheepishly from the entrance. “Would you like to come in?” you gestured towards the shop behind you amicably.
The dumbfounded look on the brunette’s face gradually morphed into a smug smirk. The sharp smell of alcohol wafted from his breath. “How could I say no to a sweetheart like you?”
You noticed Leon cringing internally at the man’s flirtatious behavior as they both ambled in. Passing by, Leon gave you a weak smile before drawing close, whispering apologetically, “Sorry about my colleague, he can be quite a handful.”
Your lips stirred, but no words came. Maybe you didn’t have any for what you wanted to express. Instead, your hand moved on its own accord, touching his shoulder and tracing down his arm. He shivered in response, his breathing uneven as he reached up and clasped your hand in his, brushing his thumb against its back. “I—”
“Hey, Romeo, over here!” the other man shouted from across the room, already seated snuggly at the counter row.
Letting go, your hand dropped limply back to your side as Leon ripped his gaze away, grumbling at the interruption as he sluggishly lumbered over to its source.
“Anything I can get you?” you asked as you shifted behind the counter.
“Hmm, that’s a loaded question, sweet cheeks. What wouldn’t I like to have?” the man laughed, only to have it cut short with an ‘oof’ when Leon nudged him in the ribs.
“Right, where are my manners? The name’s Kevin,” he followed up, extending his hand which you shook while using the other to rub his side sorely.
“We were just at Jack’s Bar,” Leon informed you, his words chosen carefully. You managed to read between the lines of what he was hinting at and swiftly whipped up one of your special remedies.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Kevin inquired eagerly as you laid out two portions of the mixture before them.
“Try it,” Leon answered for you as Kevin picked it up gingerly, examining it as if it were some kind of odd specimen.
“Bottoms up,” Kevin muttered, as he downed the pearly, alabaster liquid in one go. 
His face first twisted into an amorphous shape until his features relaxed and he nodded in approval. “Herby, but pretty damn good. What the hell is it?”
“Cough syrup,” you jested. It took them a while before they got the joke and joined in the laughter.
“Tell me if you still have a hangover tomorrow,” you instructed after they had settled down.
“What am I, the test subject?” Kevin blurted out. “And this, the cure?”
“It’s worked on most people,” you shrugged.
“Cute. Anyway, did you slip my friend here a love potion, ’cause—ow! Hey! What the—”
“Ryman…” Leon warned, as you watched the events unfolding before you with amusement.
You saw Kevin mumble something into the irate officer’s ear about “being his wingman” before turning towards you with a charming smile. Then, he addressed his colleague again, “Talking about minxes, what did you think about that lady in red today at the station?”
All at once, Leon’s face darkened and his mouth curled into a frown. “I don’t trust her.”
Patting his back, Kevin concurred, “Neither do I, Kennedy. She can flash that fancy FBI badge all she wants, but I smell bullshit.”
“Chief Irons seems to take to her.”
This seemed to annoy Kevin even more as he spat, “Chief Irons is a—” but then paused, realizing the situation he was in. Glancing at you, he sighed, “Yeah, foul mouth, my bad.”
“I don’t mind,” you admitted, guessing that the man was trying to keep up appearances for the sake of his friend.
“Keep an eye on her,” he advised Leon, who seemed to agree with him for once. “I’m gonna run some background checks. Doesn’t sit right with me how she can access all our private files like that.”
Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket, he offered it around, but the both of you declined politely. Dumping some cash on the table, he hopped off his seat and grunted, “Well, I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds for the night.”
Before Leon could utter a single word, Kevin yanked him by the collar like an older brother roughhousing his younger sibling and said, “You better get in there before I do, rookie.” 
With a brazen laugh, he ruffled the blonde boy’s hair and sprinted for the door, leaving whoever was left behind to clean up the mess he made.
Burying his face into his hands, Leon groaned loudly as you snickered at him. “Cool guy,” you mentioned.
“He’s a piece of work,” came his muffled reply.
“I’m sure he just wanted the best for you,” you comforted.
There was an audible snort as Leon took his face out of his hands and peered at you. “What season do you like the most?”
You almost stumbled backwards at the abrupt change of topic and being thrust into the spotlight again. “Now, where did that come from?”
“I’m curious.”
You searched his eyes, but upon realizing he was not going to let up, you humored him, “When the air turns crisp and the daylight shifts tonally, so everything is awash in amber.”
He perked up, his smile widening as you continued, “And the smell of pine, spice, and bonfire just floods your senses.”
“The time before nature goes into hibernation—I know, I love it too,” he finished your sentence.
“Did you go hunting a lot back home?”
“I swear—” he laughed.
You had an idea of what he was referring to. “It was just a hunch.”
He nodded. “At this rate, you must be psychic. But yeah, I did. My dad brought me.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Mm-hmm. He taught me to take only what we need,” he recounted wistfully. “And those walks in the woods—god, I miss that. Just having the time, space, and quiet to think.”
Finally, he gazed at you, swallowing as if there were a lump in his throat. “I know this is a long way off, but… would you like to come with me next fall?”
“I’d love to.”
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Dividers by @cafekitsune
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