#a guy with decent emotional intelligence

[blueteller]

So I checked out.... "Way to Protect Lovable You"? "Saving my Sweetheart"? Whatever the heck it's called...

Thanks for randomly introducing me to a new manhwa, @murasaki-cha! I've consumed all available chapters in the past 24 hours – you know, like you do. Here go my first memes impressions for you 😂

Leticia: *literally dying but on YOLO mode* Ditrian: (OMG my cute fiance asked me on a secret moonlight date-!) Leticia: So, let's get divorced in 6 months Ditrian: ??? Leticia: But also, let's fake date in the meantime! Ditrian: ???????

Ahin & Noelle, as Josephina's Wings: Oh woe is us, our Saintess wants us to hurt people, whatever shall be do~! Ahin & Noelle, 5 seconds after becoming Leticia's Wings: 😊🔪 Let's dismember all threats to our Saintess on the spot

Leticia: So let's hug. And kiss. And sleep in the same bed. …You know, platonically Ditrian: (…mercy, I'm gonna die, my wife will kill me-!) Leticia: (What's with that expression…? Does he still hate me?) Ditrian: *overdosing on CUTE* Leticia: …Oh! I also want a baby Ditrian: *DYING ROYAL NOISES*

Julius: Mom I promise, I'm definitely gonna return to you! Also Julius: *returns in a box* Mano: …Baby, you're a s***ty jokester 😭

Leticia's Wings: Leticia, no Leticia: Leticia, yes

Emperor: Son, you shall become the First Wing of the Saintess Callisto: *looks at Josephina* Callisto: I'd rather f***ing die *commits arson*

[beegswaz]

I MISSED BUG. BEING CORRECT ABOUT WHEATLEY..???? WHY IS THE WORLD SO CRUEL.

[sakurapandadreams]

PLACEMENTS THAT EASILY MAKE FRIENDS

Please take all of these predictions with a grain of salt I'm not a professional astrologer.

FOR ASTRO POSTS HERE IS MY MASTERLIST

If you have any questions here are the GUIDELINES

This post consists of placements that if one has in their chart finds it easier to socialize or understand the social dynamics better in a external settings.

One also needs to take the entire chart into consideration.

🎞 Venus in the 1st house

Natives with this placement are very diplomatic, sweet kind and easy to approach. Quite helpful in nature if their close to you, and even if their not they still very amicable. They almost never break friendships from their side. These individuals have the emotional intelligence to understand how to handle people. Hence they may find it easy to form friendships.

🎞 Gemini Moon

Extremely understanding people. Sure they have their own mood swings and their ups and downs but who doesn't ?. Inspite all odds they never give up in their friendships. Most have an idea that it takes time for a friendships to build and they give that time to their close ones. [To all the people who have a Gemini Moon friend please cherish them]

🎞 Libra Moon

One of their most admirable trait is what helps them form so many friendships and even relationships which they eventually benefit from is the fact they give a very highly thoughtful advice and again know how to make people comfortable around them. They have a decent idea when you need to say what. Won't say a thing if they know it will be a waste.

🎞 Venus in the 10th house

These people are so kind like genuinely their really good at their job [provided they love what their doing] yet so humble. Most I know are very popular atleast in their own groups yet they make sure everyone around them also equally feels like the main character of their own lives [which everyone should].

🎞 Mercury At 29⁰

Such natives are quite popular due to their talkative nature. Most love to talk to people very social. If it's in a 🔥/💧sign then it's a bonus these people are easy to talk to or approach. Also these people don't think before talking lol I love it tho. But yes these people are also good at saying understanding things at the right time.

🎞 Mercury Atmakaraka

These individuals have a way with their words and also have wide variety of topics to talk about. These people always keep a smooth flow of conversations. Have a great sense of humor too. Basically their fun people to talk to so who wouldn't wanna be friends with them

🎞 Jupiter Atmakaraka

Individuals with this placement have a very bright personality and extensive knowledge. Each time you talk to them you learn something new. Brilliant at giving advices too. People may like to talk to them because of their optimistic nature, seeing how they never lose hope is admirable.

🎞 Sun Atmakaraka

The Sun shines the Brightest hence these people are quite popular and leadership comes naturally to these natives. Even if their introverted they may have such a personality which draws people to them. [If you say buddy there's no one who's drawn to me] You guys are also quite intimidating hence there are people who want to be friends with you, it's just you guys need to be a bit more open that's all.

🎞 Venus in Aquarius

These natives are the type of people who are very popular and friends with many people. If their not an extrovert their definitely an ambivert. But what's best about them is how open minded they are let's say they like something which you don't these people don't dismiss other people's opinion.

🎞 3rd house ruler in the 7th or 11th house

Again these people are talkative and their laughter is contagious. Their outgoing people who know how to take jokes. These people also love to talk information. Basically at times they can surprise people with the information they hold. [Not me I know yall 😏😌]. Can have or be a part of big groups. Or have connections with important people YES which means your equally important.

ALSO A VERY HAPPY NAVRATRI EVERYONE 🥳🙏

Credits for the images and dividers goes to the rightful owners

Copyright © 2024 sakurapandadreams | All rights reserved.

[rockrosethistle]

"Ted Spankoffski is so tragic" yes yes I agree with you but you know who we don't talk about enough?

The man, the myth, the legend, Ethan Green.

Everyone loves to talk about how much they love him, but you are all forgetting that he is heartbreaking.

So first of all, he loves Lex. Incredibly devoted. And you're thinking, "well obviously he loves his girlfriend?" But I am not exaggerating when I say nearly every decision this man makes is for the sake of making her happy.

He cares about her opinion of him. He cares about how she's feeling. Ethan literally has more emotional intelligence as a 19-20 year old than most grown men do. He was going to propose!

And then his relationship with Hannah. At the ripe old age of 19, Ethan steps into a fatherly role for his girlfriend's kid sister, and he fucking kills it. If he is devoted to Lex, he's protective of Hannah. He dies trying to fight off people that want to hurt her.

The first time we see him in Yellowjacket, he's trying to cheer Hannah up after her shop class accident. On Hannah's birthday, he takes her out to Pizza Pete's even though he doesn't have the money to spare. She is a priority to him. He even wears a little birthday celebration crown.

On top of that, he's a decent guy. Yes, he's not above threatening people or stealing, but his heart is always in the right place when he does it. He puts the effort into his relationship. He is shown apologizing when he fucks up and recognizing his mistakes. He saves Lex and Hannah's life's at the end of Yellowjacket.

Great, right? No. Not great. The narrative is consistently ruining his life.

He dies in Black Friday. Dies in a brutal way while being ambushed for a doll that he didn't have. He actually dies for nothing. And his very last words are "I'll get you to California, Lex. That way you don't gotta cry so much no more." Was Lex in the room? No. He was hallucinating her. Fucking devastating.

And then, his face gets worn by a dark god to torment Hannah. Hannah, one of the people he cared most about, is being toyed with by something wearing Ethan's face. You just know he's watching in the afterlife feeling utterly powerless.

There are timelines where Ethan and Lex accept larger jail sentences so that Hannah isn't left alone. He is not related to Hannah, or Lex. He has no real obligation to do that. He chooses to, for Hannah's sake. And has to spend years in jail.

In Yellowjacket, after all they've been through, after he bought the damn ring, the girls just leave him behind. He gets broken up with via a note while they escape to California. And you know it's for the better, you know it's for his own safety, but it still hurts.

There was even supposed to be a Nightmare Time episode where he comes back from the dead Pet-Cemetery style, murders Hannah, and then is tortured for eternity?? But then the Langs were like "No, actually, everyone would hate this." and thank God because Ethan does not need that on his plate.

Look at this. "We caught you a poki-man." He's too good I miss him so much.

This poor guy does nothing wrong and is constantly being punished. I need in my bones to have a universe where he marries Lex and they get custody of Hannah.

[goodolddumbbanana]

Moon when everyone expects Sum getting hurt or traumatized: Mr. Therapist of the year.

Moon when Sun gets hurt or traumatized: What is that? I don't know what the emotions spell like? He will probably be fine on his own, I deal with that before, it's not that hard.

I swear it really hit me on the nail the reason why I originally hated this Old Moon so much. It is not only partially because he is the asshole to Sun a lot, but also, he always treats people not Sun better than Sun, his own brother.

Like he comforted Lunar when he disowned Eclipse, he sacrificed his own life for KC for all people, he really understood and all with Earth, he even had empathy with Dazzle and Jack about Neptor. Heck, he comforted Funtime Foxy, Roxanne, even Freddy from all people like a pro, and he empathy with Bloodmoon!!!

But when it came to Sun, SUN, his brother, he just...

His emotional intelligence just dropped from 300 to 0.

And this is not new. It all happened again and again, that Moon worked himself to the bone and snapped at Sun's face whenever Moon feels stress or Sun doesn't happy like he always does, making everything about him, invalidate Sun's feelings, and told Sun to shut his own emotions to somewhere that Moon can't see.

With Sun, he always likes: Boo ho, I have been worse and you don't see me complaining.

Bitch, you complaining about it every time you have chances! I am not comparing the trauma between their two but Moon always screaming how miserable his life is to Sun and when Sun shares think back he just told Sun to shut up and move one.

It's always me, me,me, it always I'm the monster and I hate myself and I'm a murderer. And Blood on my hand and Sun you should comfort me but also hate me.

Yeah, buddy, we all know. IT'S NOT LIKE YOU SHOVE IT ON OUR FACE EVERY TIME YOU ON SCREEN!!

If Moon is actually an asshole mentally incapable of caring and feeling, I can have a little bit of empathy towards him. But the fact that he is always a pretty decent emotional empathetic guy when comes to the other and not towards Sun makes me mad.

It's unfair. Like he doesn't even think of Sun as a person. He put Sun on a higher pedestal, that Sun needs to be good, to be better than him. He always hurts Sun the most when he is the one most caring about Sun.

Though, to cut him some slack, I understand how awkward of him to talk to Sun now, but it is not justified his actions. I am actually not surprised, I'm just disappointed.

I thought he would be better, but he is only better than his worst self, which is stop trying to murder or hit or yell at Sun.

The bar is so low I have to say holy hell with him. No wonder he and Satan are besties.

And also, I understand what kind of reactions Monty and Lunar came from and it honestly is in character for them to react that way.

Lunar is always the jerk, and with the fact he has to control his emotions, no surprise if he distracted himself to do other things.

Same with Monty.

They are both logical people who have the emotional intelligence level of a baby, so it is understandable to see them just quickly changing the topic.

They are not actually close to Nexus, and it honestly is no point for them to grief for someone hurting their family. Though, I bet they also feel sad about him, they can't do anything about it so they are not.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Get Me Out of Here || Rook Hunt

You’re isekai’d into a trashy novel and stuck as a tragic side knight character. All you want is survival, but your boss is Rook Hunt—a poetic, eccentric duke.

Now you’re caught in his chaos and, worse, you kinda don’t mind.

Series Masterlist

You’re a completely normal person. You eat normal meals at normal times, sleep the normal amount of hours (give or take a few, who needs all eight anyway?), and hold down a regular, soul-crushingly normal job. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills and lets you indulge in your one true love: reading web novels for five hours straight like some kind of feral literature goblin.

Your current obsession? The Lady’s Tragic Love. It’s the sort of story that you can’t put down—not because it’s good, but because it’s so excruciatingly terrible that it loops back around into comedy. The heroine has all the personality of a wet tissue but somehow manages to ruin everyone’s lives with reckless abandon. It’s almost impressive.

You rub your temples as you skim yet another chapter. “Oh my God, this woman has the moral compass of a black hole,” you mutter.

The plot makes less sense the deeper you go: the heroine starts off as the daughter of a down-on-their-luck noble family. Her father racks up an unholy amount of debt, so she’s forced to marry a viscount who—get this—is actually a nice guy. Like, genuinely kind. He agrees to marry her in name only to protect her from debt collectors, even offering to fund her hobbies.

And what does she do? Poison him. Poison him!

"Okay, maybe she's misunderstood," you think, in the kind of delusional optimism only a web novel enthusiast can muster.

Nope. She poisons him because she "can’t stand looking at his face," which is only mildly unattractive and not the ogre-like monstrosity the text implies. Also, he was literally helping her stay alive.

“Oh, sure, let’s kill the only decent male character in this hellscape. Why not?” you hiss, scrolling furiously.

After committing literal murder, the heroine sets her sights on an archduke, who is tall, handsome, and very much engaged to the so-called villainess. The villainess is stunning, kind, intelligent, and inexplicably hated by everyone because—checks notes—she’s too perfect?

At this point, you're gripping your phone so hard that it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in half. “Why is the villainess the villain? This should be the heroine’s title! She’s practically speedrunning how to be the worst human being alive!”

But no, the heroine gets rewarded for her nonsense. The archduke doesn’t fall for her (because he has taste), but the crown prince does. The prince, apparently a sucker for chaos, marries her. Instead of being happy with her new title and riches, the heroine spends her days scheming to ruin the villainess’s life because, in her words, “How dare the archduke choose someone that isn’t me?”

You pause and reread that line. Then reread it again.

“WHAT?!” you yell so loudly that your downstairs neighbor bangs on the ceiling.

It’s a spiral of nonsense that drags you through emotional whiplash until you finish the last chapter with a migraine and a full-blown existential crisis. You stare at the screen. "Why...why did I do this to myself?"

You stumble out to your tiny balcony to clear your head, phone still in hand. The cool night air washes over you as you lean on the railing, your brain buzzing with rage and confusion.

“Why does she get a happy ending?” you grumble. “She’s a walking red flag factory! The villainess deserves to be queen, and the prince deserves a lobotomy for his taste in women!”

In your frustration, you kick the balcony railing. Unfortunately, your landlord hasn’t exactly been diligent about repairs. The rusted screws holding it in place give way with a terrifying screech.

“Oh, come on,” you say, deadpan, as the railing collapses beneath you.

You plummet ten stories down, bouncing off an awning like some kind of cartoon character before landing face-first in a suspiciously placed fruit cart.

As darkness creeps in, your final thought is not of regret, nor fear, but of pure, unfiltered pettiness:

“I hope my next life is more exciting… and I never have to read about this heroine again.”

With that, you pass out, blissfully unaware of the absurd fate that awaits you.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented, and immediately ask yourself the first logical question: Why the hell am I alive?

The last thing you remember is gravity betraying you and a suspiciously convenient fruit cart breaking your fall. But when you sit up and look around, it’s very clear you’re not in your crappy apartment anymore. For starters, this place is way too clean, smells faintly of vanilla, and—oh, is that sunlight streaming through those beautiful glass windows? Not the dim, depressing flicker of the streetlight outside your old place?

Something is very wrong.

You scramble out of the bed, which is definitely not your rickety twin-sized monstrosity held together with duct tape and misplaced hope, and start poking around. The furniture is elegant, the carpet is plush, and there’s an oil painting on the wall that practically screams, Welcome to Generic Medieval Europe™!

The realization slams into you with all the subtlety of a freight train: You’re in that garbage web novel.

You pause, frozen, your brain throwing up a million red flags at once. Your knees almost buckle. "Nope. No. Absolutely not. This is some kind of cosmic punishment," you whisper to yourself, clutching your temples.

You creep towards the ornate mirror on the other side of the room, your reflection getting clearer with every step. “Please,” you mutter, “if there’s a single merciful entity out there, don’t let me be the heroine. Or the villainess. Or, God forbid, one of the male leads.”

You finally reach the mirror, squeeze your eyes shut, then crack one open. And there you are: just some random face.

“Oh, thank God,” you exhale, slumping against the wall. You’re not the heroine. You’re not the villainess. You’re not one of the tragic walking disasters that make up the main cast. You're just… some person. A total nobody.

But just as you’re about to bust out your victory dance of mediocrity, something catches your eye. You lean closer, squinting.

Wait.

No.

NO.

You’re that nobody.

You’re the tragic commoner knight who gets blackmailed by the heroine, coerced into doing her dirty work, and ends up assassinating the villainess for her. The same commoner knight who dies in three chapters because the heroine throws them under the bus as soon as the villainess's fiancé finds out what happened.

You stagger back from the mirror like it’s cursed. “Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. I did not reincarnate into this medieval soap opera just to get unalived in the dumbest way possible,” you say, pacing the room like a lunatic.

Your character’s life flashes before your eyes: the abusive father, the crippling family loyalty, the gambling debts. This poor soul had it rough even before getting turned into the heroine’s personal murder minion. And you? You’re not about to pick up that torch.

So you grab some parchment and pen what might be the most passive-aggressive resignation letter of all time.

“To Her Highness, the Crown Princess,

Kindly do your own dirty work from now on. My father can gamble himself into oblivion. I’m out. Good luck with your reign or whatever.”

Satisfied, you sign it with an unnecessarily large flourish, slap it on the desk, and prepare to bounce.

You’re halfway down the hall when you almost walk face-first into him.

Rook Hunt, the walking embodiment of “this guy doesn’t belong in this novel but here he is anyway,” stands there with his golden hair and overly dramatic smile. He’s loud. He’s eccentric. He’s dressed like he’s about to break into a musical number about the beauty of life. Oh, and he’s also the duke whose household you served in as a knight before you quit.

“Mon ami!” he exclaims, throwing his arms wide like you’re long-lost lovers. “You’ve returned to me! What an exquisite twist of fate! Shall we celebrate the beauty of reunion?”

“No,” you say flatly. You attempt to sidestep him, but Rook doesn’t just let things go.

“You cannot leave me again! Do you not wish to resume your role as my loyal knight?”

“Absolutely not,” you snap on instinct, because why on earth would you willingly dive back into this mess? But then it hits you. Wait.

Rook isn’t part of the main plot. He’s not the crown prince, not the archduke, not the villain, and definitely not one of the doomed love interests. He’s just… there. A minor character. A colorful extra who pops up to sprinkle poetic nonsense into the plot and then wanders offstage.

Your brain kicks into overdrive. If you stick with him, you’ll be close enough to the action to keep tabs but far enough to avoid the heroine’s nonsense. Plus, salary. And minor characters like him rarely die!

Your decision solidifies. You plaster on a winning smile and nod. “Actually, on second thought, yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Magnifique!” Rook practically beams as he grabs your arm. “Come, let us bask in the splendor of returning home!”

You follow him, letting his endless stream of poetic babble wash over you. Is this the best plan? Probably not. But it beats getting murdered for a heroine who couldn’t find her moral compass with both hands and a map.

You make it back to the duke’s grand estate—because of course it’s grand. Every aristocrat in this godforsaken novel seems to have a mansion the size of a small country. Rook practically floats through the gates, his dramatic energy causing every passing servant to give him the “not again” look. You follow, still trying to process the reality of your current situation.

After an unnecessarily flowery tour of the place (you’ve been here before in this body, but you let him talk because it’s easier than interrupting), he finally stops in the courtyard. He turns to you, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Now, mon chevalier, reclaim your rightful position as my trusted bodyguard!” he declares, flinging his arms wide as if inviting the heavens to applaud him.

You blink. “…Respectfully, sir, why do you need a bodyguard?”

He pauses, staring at you like you just asked why water is wet. Then, with an infuriatingly serene smile, he says, “Ah, but the shadows are filled with secrets, my dear knight! The beauty of life is in its mysteries, n’est-ce pas?”

You squint at him. “Okay, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Because the wolves, mon ami. The wolves.”

You freeze. “…What wolves?”

Rook straightens up, tilting his head as if contemplating the meaning of the universe. “Ah, they are everywhere and nowhere. In the forests, in the halls, in the hearts of men. Who can say where danger truly lies?”

This man just said a whole lot of words without saying anything.

“Right,” you say slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But you’re, like, ridiculously strong. I’m pretty sure you could take on any wolf—metaphorical or not—by yourself.”

“Ah, mon chevalier,” he says with a wistful sigh, placing a hand on his chest like he’s reciting a Shakespearean soliloquy. “Strength alone cannot protect one from the unexpected, the unseen, the poetry of peril!”

You stare at him, trying to figure out if this is some sort of elaborate prank. But no. This man is completely serious.

“So… wolves. Poetry of peril. Got it,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “I’ll, uh, just… go patrol or something, I guess.”

Rook claps his hands together, beaming. “Ah, magnifique! I knew you would understand! Truly, you are a gem among knights!”

You slink off, still scratching your head. You’re 90% sure the wolves are a metaphor for absolutely nothing, but who are you to question the logic of a trash novel? At least the pay is good.

You quickly realize this trash novel is trying to trash you right back. It’s like every corner you turn, fate has decided you don’t deserve a peaceful life.

Walking through the garden to calm your nerves? Someone leaps out of the hedges with a dagger. You narrowly dodge, trip over a decorative fountain, and the attacker runs off, cackling.

Trying to enjoy the roses because you’re starting to think, “Hey, if I gotta die, at least let it be aesthetic?” Nope, arrow. Right past your ear.

By the fifth assassination attempt (some guy “accidentally” dropping a potted plant from a balcony), it clicks. The heroine must’ve decided since you’re not doing her dirty work anymore, she needs to eliminate you before you spill the beans. But, unlike her, you have brains.

So, you write a letter.

Dear Villainess and Esteemed Archduke,

I hope this letter finds you well, though considering the general chaos surrounding us, that feels optimistic.

I am writing to inform you of an unfortunate situation involving a certain someone (cough the crown princess cough) who has, shall we say, less-than-noble intentions toward your continued existence.

To clarify: she asked me to assassinate you. I know, shocking. However, as someone who values integrity, personal safety, and not being murdered by shady royalty, I’ve decided to step down from my position as her unwilling assassin.

This does mean she may hire someone else to handle the job, which is unfortunate for you but also none of my business anymore. I’m not sure how you typically handle murder plots, but I suggest taking precautions, like perhaps not smelling your roses or standing under precariously placed flower pots.

Lastly, while I am admittedly a pawn in this chaotic mess, I felt it was only fair to let you know what’s going on. I wish you both a long, unassassinated life.

Warm regards,

Your Local Retired Assassin

P.S. Please don’t kill me. I’m just the messenger.

You thought this letter would buy you peace. Instead, it bought you an invitation.

And by “invitation,” you mean you’ve been dragged into a private meeting with the villainess and the archduke, who are both sitting across from you now, looking like they’re deciding whether to thank you or strangle you.

“So,” the villainess says, her voice like ice. “You’re telling me the crown princess is plotting to kill me?”

“Uh, yes,” you say, your palms sweating. “But, like, not me anymore! I’ve retired. Permanently.”

The archduke raises an eyebrow. “Why would she want to kill us?”

You glance at the villainess. “Uh… because you exist?”

Before the villainess can stab you (she looks ready), the door swings open, and in saunters Rook.

“Ah, my friends!” he says, grinning ear to ear. “How serendipitous that we are all here. I believe I can shed some light on this matter.”

You gape as Rook launches into a detailed explanation of the heroine’s convoluted scheme—exactly what she’s planning, who she’s hiring, and even the color of the dress she’ll wear while gloating about it.

The villainess and the archduke exchange a glance, then rise, thanking Rook for his “invaluable insight” before sweeping out of the room, leaving you and Rook alone.

You turn to him, your jaw still on the floor. “How do you even know all that?”

Rook just winks at you. “Ah, mon chevalier, the shadows have ears, and I am their maestro.”

He struts out, humming a jaunty tune, leaving you sitting there, more confused than ever. At this point, you’re half-convinced Rook is either a genius or just making stuff up as he goes. And honestly? You’re too tired to figure it out.

You’re stationed at the edge of the garden, trying your best to blend into the scenery while the tea party unfolds. Rook, as usual, is the life of the gathering, passionately chatting with Vil and Epel, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You’re in your usual "bodyguard mode," which mostly consists of staring off into the distance and trying not to fall asleep. It’s peaceful—for once—until Epel casually drops a comment loud enough for even you to hear.

"Rook, you finally got them back, huh?"

Your brain screeches to a halt.

Got you back? Back? What does that mean? What is there to get back? Was there something to get back in the first place?

You barely have time to process any of this before Rook, in the most Rook way possible, interrupts with a flurry of poetic nonsense.

“Ah, young Epel, the winds of fortune have indeed graced me with their bounteous song! But let us not dwell on the past, for the present blooms before us like a radiant garden of opportunity!”

You blink. Did… did that mean anything? Epel seems to think it doesn’t, judging by the way he rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. But you’re too busy processing the odd look on Rook’s face to care.

Because, for the first time ever, Rook looks nervous.

His usual serene confidence is still there, but there’s a hint of something else—a faint pink dusting his cheeks, an almost imperceptible shift in his tone. And why the hell is your heart fluttering at the sight?

You squint at him, trying to decode whatever is happening here. Is he… embarrassed? Flustered? Can Rook even be flustered?

Before you can spiral further into overthinking, you notice Vil’s sharp gaze cutting through the moment like a knife. His violet eyes lock onto yours, and an infuriatingly amused smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Oh no. He knows.

Vil, of course, pretends like nothing’s happening, smoothly pouring himself another cup of tea and joining the conversation like the consummate aristocrat he is. But every so often, you catch him glancing at you with that same entertained expression, like he’s just discovered a juicy secret.

You try to shake it off, refusing to let yourself be dragged into this nonsense. But Rook’s flushed face lingers in your mind, and every time he smiles at you for the rest of the party, you feel the heat creeping up your own cheeks.

Great. Just great. Whatever this is, it’s going to haunt you for days.

It started with an uproar in the palace—a desperate, urgent call for help sent to Rook, Duke of Hunt.

"The wolves are attacking!"

You were mid-sword practice when the messenger arrived, breathless and frantic. He handed the summons to Rook, who took the parchment with an amused smile.

"Wolves, you say?" he mused, tapping his chin dramatically.

"Yes, my lord!" The messenger practically collapsed from the effort of delivering the message. "They’ve breached the outer gardens, and the prince and heroine request your immediate assistance!"

Rook looked at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, mon chevalier, do you recall what I told you once about wolves?"

You blinked, frowning. "You mean the thing about being surrounded by wolves one day? I thought you were joking."

Rook’s grin widened. "Oh, I never jest about wolves."

You opened your mouth to demand clarification, but Rook waved the parchment dismissively. "Alas, I must decline."

The messenger froze. "W-What? But…you’re the Duke of Hunt! The greatest tracker and marksman in the kingdom! Without you, the palace is doomed!"

Rook leaned forward conspiratorially. "Tell me, mon ami, what makes you think I’d risk life and limb for the likes of the heroine and her precious prince?"

The messenger stammered. "B-But—"

Rook held up a hand, silencing him. "No, no. I simply cannot. My schedule is far too packed. Why, just this morning, I promised my chevalier here that I’d help reorganize their weapons rack." He turned to you with a wink. "Isn’t that right?"

You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Yep. Super busy."

The messenger left, looking utterly defeated. You figured that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Over the next two hours, messengers kept arriving, each more desperate than the last. Rook refused them all with increasing flamboyance.

One messenger was sent away with, "Alas, the stars are not in alignment for such a hunt!"

Another was dismissed with, "The winds whisper that this is not my destiny today."

Finally, a personal plea came from the heroine herself. She barged into the estate, dramatically throwing herself at Rook’s feet.

"Oh, noble Duke!" she wailed. "You are the only one who can save us! Please, I beg of you!"

Rook tilted his head, pretending to think it over. Then he glanced at you, his expression suddenly sharp beneath the veneer of cheer.

"And what of my chevalier?" he asked.

The heroine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You’ve made quite a nuisance of yourself lately," Rook said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice. "Why, only yesterday, you sent someone to ambush them in the gardens, did you not?"

Her face paled.

"I might reconsider," Rook said, his tone taking on a singsong quality, "if you promise to leave them alone from now on."

There was a long, tense pause. The heroine’s expression flickered between rage and fear before she finally forced a smile. "Very well. I promise."

"Splendid!" Rook clapped his hands and stood. "To the hunt, then!"

You stood there in stunned silence as he walked out the door, bow in hand. When he turned back to flash you a grin, you couldn’t help but mutter, "What the hell just happened?"

Rook’s laugh echoed through the halls, and you were left wondering yet again if you’d ever fully understand this ridiculous man.

It’s payday, baby.

You’ve never been more excited to hold a pouch of jingling coins in your life. Your day off couldn’t have come at a better time, and you’ve already decided to treat yourself. No assassination attempts, no cryptic poetry, no Rook yammering about beauty—just you, the market, and sweet, sweet retail therapy.

After wandering for a while, you stumble upon a fruit stall, and your eyes light up. The produce is incredible—vividly colored, juicy, and nothing like the waxy, suspiciously glossy stuff you’d get in your original world. You don’t even know what half these fruits are, but they smell amazing, and you’re buying them all.

As you carry your haul back to the manor, an idea hits you like a freight train. You’ve been craving dessert—specifically, something you can’t get in medieval Europe. Something simple, sweet, and utterly anachronistic.

And that’s how you end up in the kitchen, surrounded by fresh fruit, flour, sugar, and whatever else you’ve managed to scrounge up. You’re determined to make crêpes. Yes, you know they weren’t invented yet, but the cooks don’t even seem to know what a waffle is, so they’re not going to stop you.

It takes a bit of trial and error—because, shocker, medieval kitchens are not equipped for finesse—but eventually, you’ve got a plate of soft, golden crêpes filled with fresh fruit and drizzled with honey. It’s so beautiful it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You’re mid-bite, mentally congratulating yourself, when Rook materializes out of nowhere like some kind of dessert-seeking missile.

“Mon chevalier! What marvel have you crafted here in this humble kitchen? The scent alone rivals the sweetest perfume!”

You freeze. This is fine. He’s just curious. There’s no reason to panic. Subconsciously, you scoop up a bite on your fork and offer it to him, your body on autopilot.

Rook doesn’t hesitate, leaning in and accepting the bite with the elegance of a prince at court. “Magnifique! Truly, you have woven magic into this creation, mon cher!”

You relax slightly, pride swelling at the compliment—until he takes your hand and licks a stray drop of honey from your finger.

Your brain short-circuits.

Before you can even form a coherent thought, Rook grins at you with that infuriatingly charming smile of his, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You are as talented in the kitchen as you are with a blade,” he says, his voice warm and soft, as if he hasn’t just dismantled your sanity.

And then he’s gone, striding out of the kitchen with his usual jaunty step, leaving you standing there like an idiot, replaying the sensation of his lips on your cheek and his tongue on your finger.

You slowly sink to the floor, crêpe in hand, trying to process what just happened.

“Why,” you mutter to yourself, taking another bite of your crêpe for courage, “does this keep happening to me?”

Life had been…dare you say it, pleasant recently. No assassination attempts, no tea parties and no surprise arrows whizzing by your head. You were almost convinced this world might not be so bad after all.

But like clockwork, the plot reared its ugly head.

You were outside, basking in the rare serenity of a quiet afternoon, when the shouting began. You knew the voice instantly. It was grating, furious, and way too familiar.

Your abusive father—the original you’s deadbeat excuse for a parent—had somehow crawled out of the woodwork.

“You useless brat!” he snarled, stomping toward you. “How dare you stop sending money? Do you think you’re too good for your family now?!”

Oh, for the love of—

You crossed your arms, already done with the theatrics. “First of all, family implies mutual care and respect, neither of which you’ve ever provided. Secondly, kiss my ass.”

The man’s face turned a deep shade of purple, veins bulging in his forehead. He raised his hand, and you didn’t flinch. You weren’t scared of him. You were just irritated that he had the audacity to show up and ruin your vibe.

But before his hand could even swing down, an arrow whizzed past, slicing through the air with deadly precision. It nicked his cheek, leaving a shallow cut, and he yelped like a scolded dog.

You turned, and there he was.

Rook.

But this wasn’t the poetic, flowery Rook who praised sunsets and waxed lyrical about everything under the sun. No, this was Duke Hunt. His bow was clenched tightly in one hand, his expression colder than you’d ever seen. His eyes locked onto your father, sharp and unyielding, and for the first time, you truly understood why people called him a hunter.

Your father stumbled back, clutching his cheek. “Y-you’ll regret this! I’ll get my revenge!” he spat, turning tail and running like the two-bit villain he was.

You didn’t even watch him go. You were too busy staring at Rook, your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fact that, dammit, he looked good like this.

You silently scolded yourself. Really? Now? This is when you’re going to have a revelation about your feelings? Pull it together.

Rook’s gaze softened as he looked at you, and without a word, he closed the distance between you. Before you could process it, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a firm, steady embrace.

You stiffened for a moment, but then it hit you—you were shaken. You hadn’t realized it until now, but the encounter had left your hands trembling. And Rook…he didn’t say a word. He just held you, radiating warmth and reassurance, as if he knew exactly what you needed.

Slowly, you relaxed, leaning into him, letting the tension bleed out of your body. For once, there were no witty remarks, no poetic musings, no cryptic riddles. Just Rook, steady and solid, and the quiet comfort of his presence.

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Maybe life here wasn’t so bad after all.

It was the hunting competition trope—the bread and butter of every third-rate villainess novel ever written. Noblemen rode out in droves to massacre innocent wildlife in the name of prestige, while the women gathered on the sidelines to swoon over who could kill the most majestic creature.

Normally, you'd find this whole affair ridiculous, but today? Today, it was a strategic opportunity.

Rook and you had cooked up a plan. After bagging his game, Rook would publicly gift it to the villainess, cementing the stance of his household against the heroine. A subtle yet unmistakable message to everyone present: this duke’s house wasn’t here to play politics; it was drawing battle lines.

Rook was, predictably, ecstatic about it all. “Ah, mon chevalier, what a splendid opportunity to honor beauty and justice with the art of the hunt!” he proclaimed, twirling dramatically as he readied his bow.

What you didn’t anticipate was his strange fixation on a handkerchief before he left.

Throughout the day, noblewomen approached Rook, each one batting their lashes and holding out dainty, embroidered handkerchiefs. It was practically a parade of desperate peahens.

“Oh, Lord Hunt, a token for luck!” cooed one particularly persistent lady, pushing her frilly kerchief toward him.

Rook clasped his hands to his chest with exaggerated reverence. “Ah, mademoiselle, your thoughtfulness moves me beyond words, but alas, I cannot accept. To carry such a treasure into the wild would be to risk its loss, and I could never bear such tragedy!”

Another woman attempted to loop her kerchief around his wrist directly. Rook gracefully dodged, as though she were offering him a live snake. “My dear lady, your artistry is unparalleled, but the only adornment fit for this hunt is the pure, untainted spirit of nature herself!”

By the third rejection, you were practically biting your tongue to keep from laughing.

But then came the curveball.

“Ah,” Rook sighed as he approached you. “If only I had a handkerchief imbued with sincerity. A simple, honest token to guide my aim and steady my heart!”

You blinked at him. “What, like…this?” You pulled out your completely ordinary, unembellished handkerchief and held it out.

Rook’s eyes lit up as though you’d just handed him the Holy Grail. “Mon chevalier! How perfect! How divine! This humble square of cloth shall be my guiding light!”

Before you could protest, he tied it around his arm with a flourish and rode off, looking like he was ready to star in his own personal opera.

From his place in the pavilion, Vil Schoenheit took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, his sharp eyes locking onto yours with a glint of pure amusement. The smirk tugging at his lips seemed to say, Oh, I know exactly what’s going on.

Meanwhile, Epel squinted between you and Rook, his expression shifting rapidly as though he’d just cracked the secret to immortality. He whispered something to Vil, who nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure.

What the hell is going on? you thought, baffled.

Fast forward to now, the present, where the plan was supposed to culminate with Rook triumphantly presenting his prize to the villainess. Simple, elegant, strategic.

So why, why, was Rook standing in front of you holding a literal griffin?

“Uh, Rook,” you whispered through gritted teeth. “What are you doing? This is supposed to go to the villainess.”

But Rook was having none of it.

“Ah, my loyal chevalier,” he declared loudly, drawing the attention of every noble in the vicinity. “It is only fitting that such a prize goes to the one who inspires my steadfastness and resolve!”

Your jaw dropped. “Rook. No.”

He turned his radiant smile on you, looking like a proud schoolboy showing off a crayon drawing to his teacher. “Yes!”

The gathered nobles erupted into murmurs, and you could already feel the weight of every single judgmental stare. This was not part of the plan. But despite your internal screaming, a small, annoying part of you couldn’t help but feel…flattered. This was a duke, and you were just a knight. A very confused, very underqualified knight, sure, but still.

Vil, still seated with his ever-present cup of tea, took another long, pointed sip, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

This was the drama he’d signed up for.

---

The hallway leading back to the room where Vil, Rook, and Epel were sitting felt oddly silent, the muffled voices of their conversation barely filtering through the door. You weren’t one to eavesdrop—but when you heard your name, well, curiosity got the better of you.

"Just confess already," Epel was saying, his tone exasperated. "We’ve all seen the way you look at them."

Vil chimed in, his voice tinged with amusement. "Epel is right for once, Rook. Love is about timing, and yours is abysmal."

"But love is an art, mon ami," Rook replied, his tone unusually hesitant. "It cannot be rushed. It must unfold naturally, like the petals of a flower in spring."

"Okay," Vil drawled, clearly unimpressed. "But what happens when someone else plucks your ‘flower’? Say, the gardener they’ve been spending so much time with?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You leaned closer, your heart pounding, hoping—no, needing—to hear Rook’s response.

Instead, you heard nothing.

The stillness stretched unbearably until you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the door open, startling all three occupants. "What are you talking about?"

Vil raised an eyebrow, the picture of nonchalance, though the corners of his mouth twitched with mischief. "Perfect timing, as always. I’ll leave you two to sort this out."

He grabbed a very reluctant Epel by the collar and dragged him toward the door. "Wait, I wanna see what happens!" Epel protested, but Vil shut the door behind them with a decisive click.

Which left you and Rook alone.

You crossed your arms, leveling him with a look that you hoped masked the frantic hammering of your heart. "So…what’s this about a confession?"

Rook’s usual composure faltered. For once, the poetic, perpetually self-assured Rook you knew looked…unsure. Vulnerable. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his gloves, and he avoided your gaze, staring instead at the floor.

"Rook," you said softly, stepping closer. "Please, just tell me what’s going on. I need to know."

He finally looked up, and the raw emotion in his eyes was enough to steal your breath.

"Mon chevalier," he began, his voice low and trembling, "I have loved you from the start. At first, it was the camaraderie of equals, a kindred spirit I admired. But when you returned from the heroine’s side, defying expectations and staying true to yourself…you captured my heart completely."

You blinked, stunned. "Rook, I—"

He continued, the words spilling out as though he’d been holding them back for far too long. "You never treated me like I was strange. You accepted me as I am, even when others mocked my passions or dismissed my eccentricities. I never truly needed a bodyguard. I just needed you. Near me. Always."

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and you felt your resolve crumble.

You sighed, but it wasn’t from exasperation. It was the sound of relief, of something clicking into place. "Next time," you said, stepping even closer, "just tell me your feelings directly. It’ll save us both a lot of trouble."

Before he could respond, you reached up and pulled him into a kiss.

It was everything a first kiss should be—long, searing, passionate. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you flush against him as though he never wanted to let go. You melted into him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, and for a moment, the world outside that kiss ceased to exist.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Rook’s lips quirked into a smile as he whispered, "Your lips are the sweetest arrow, mon amour, and they have pierced my heart beyond repair."

You burst into laughter, burying your face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. "Gods, Rook, only you could ruin a moment like this with something so cheesy."

He chuckled softly, his arms still secure around you.

And as you stood there in his embrace, you couldn’t help but think that this ridiculous, trashy novel world was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

The parlor was warm with the golden light of afternoon sun filtering through the windows, but the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. You stood near Rook, his arm casually draped across the back of your chair, as Vil and Epel looked at you expectantly.

“Well?” Vil prompted, raising a perfectly arched brow.

You glanced at Rook, who smiled encouragingly, as if to say, go ahead. Clearing your throat, you announced, “We’re…together.”

Vil sighed dramatically, setting down his teacup with a soft clink. “Finally. I was starting to think I’d have to intervene.”

Epel, on the other hand, froze mid-sip of his cider. Slowly, he set the glass down, stood, and walked over to you. His expression was a mix of grief and dread, like someone had just informed him of some terrible, life-altering news.

He placed both hands firmly on your shoulders and looked you dead in the eyes. “Good luck,” he said, solemn as a funeral bell. “This is a life sentence, y’know.”

Rook chuckled, clearly amused. “Mon cher Epel, you wound me! Surely being with moi is more of a treasure than a trial?”

Epel turned to him, unimpressed. “Treasure? You follow people for fun. You recite poetry to wild animals. You can’t even eat pie without analyzing its existential meaning. I mean, who does that?”

You were already laughing, shaking your head as you patted Epel’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Epel. This is a sentence I’m more than happy to serve.”

Vil smirked behind his tea, watching the scene unfold with obvious amusement. “Frankly, I’m just relieved we won’t have to endure any more of his tragic sighs every time you left a room.”

Rook clasped a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Oh, Vil! My sighs are poetry incarnate!”

Vil didn’t even blink. “Your sighs are the sound of unspoken melodrama. Spare me.”

Epel plopped back into his seat with a long groan, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I guess congratulations or whatever. At least now we can all stop pretending we don’t notice him staring at you like some love-struck puppy.”

“That’s rich,” you shot back, grinning. “You’re the one who looks like your pet rat just died every time we get close.”

Epel huffed. “I’m just saying! Now you gotta deal with him being even more poetic! And clingy! You thought the prince and heroine were bad? Wait till you see Rook when he’s in love. You’re doomed.”

At the mention of the prince and heroine, Vil made an exaggerated sound of disgust. “Speaking of those two… Honestly, has anyone ever been so painfully predictable? The prince has all the charm of wet cardboard, and the heroine—don’t even get me started on her hair ribbons.”

“Ah, the heroine,” Rook sighed wistfully, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Always so delightfully transparent. Her schemes are like open windows to her soul.”

You snorted. “If by soul, you mean her desperate attempts to turn everything into a sob story, then yeah, sure.”

Epel leaned forward, grinning. “Did you see her crying at the hunt competition? Like, girl, it’s a competition. What did you think would happen? That the griffin would apologize and hand itself over?”

Vil smirked, tapping a manicured finger against his chin. “Or how about the prince declaring his ‘eternal devotion’ to her at the banquet last week? I nearly choked on my wine.”

Rook chuckled, turning to you with a soft smile that was far more genuine than his usual theatrics. “Ah, but let us not waste all our words on such trivialities. This moment, mon amour, is one of joy.”

You leaned into him, your laughter subsiding into a contented smile. His arm slipped around your shoulders, holding you close as Vil and Epel continued their playful bickering in the background.

For the first time since you’d been thrown into this absurd world, you felt completely at ease. If this was the result of being trapped in a trash novel, then so be it. You were exactly where you wanted to be.

Complete Masterlists

Trash Novel Masterlist

[imagionationstation]

I don’t know what’s going on with my brain but it has been AU gender swapping Donnie so hard the past few days.

I’m just going to fix the series in a few simple steps:

Donnie leaning heavily on April only because she’s the first other female that she’s gotten to interact with ever

Leo getting some female interaction so he sees Karai as a potential friend instead of immediately crushing and the later reveal isn’t as conflicting since they’re just battle besties

Casey stays decent and awesome without the “battle for April” plot making his character hard to truly appreciate

The brothers are more supportive of Donnie and her attempts to form a relationship with April & Donnie doesn’t have to talk to a jar of guts and mutagen because they know how secluded she’s been, so they’re more free with advice like hey, maybe don’t stalk her and just text her or somethin’, mkay?

Splinter visibly checking up on her activities in the lab throughout the series because he has no idea how to raise a female (he was counting on Tang Shen for that) but he does his best to let her know he cares by supporting her in other ways 💜🤎

More softie Raph moments with his sis so the haters in the audience don’t hate him as much as they unreasonably do

Mikey doesn’t need to change. He just gets to have some more of the “emotionally intelligent” moments that we were deprived off.

I can’t think straight with all these bubbling rewrites help me-

For anyone who cares, also my favorite tidbits:

Splinter not realizing that Donnie was female at first and the name Donatello just ends up sticking. Donnie will die on a hill that Donatello is gender neutral even though her family and friends know it’s not. It’s a topic that they just avoid bringing up

Her brothers use Dona when they’re teasing her

An explanation as to why canon Donnie’s figure is just so randomly different from her practically identical brothers

The shock of Irma isn’t as crippling because April still has Donnie as her devoted female bestie & now the farmhouse era is a lot less stressful and complicated for April and the viewers

Role model Leo still exists & Donnie has a crisis over him bonding with Karai and that creates tension for a while & Four Trap is actually Leo accusing Donnie of not trying hard enough because of that past debacle and “try harder” has clear purpose

Donnie gets an official ✨ big sister ✨ and that means that good-guy snake Karai exists in the series more as the reptilian mutant females bond

Overprotective brothers over their sister (and-)

The sister who appreciates it but there are some moments where she gets tired of them treating her like she’s not as capable as them (not true, but how she interprets their actions) and one episode decides to prove herself (Operation Break Out)

Potential for Casey/Donnie but currently undecided

Consistent “girls are so emotional” jokes that are beyond cringe but the viewers have to tolerate them anyway bc 2012 humor

Broken Foot actually having an affect on Karai since she almost took part in killing off her only sister

Donnie’s biggest fear is that her brothers will one day get tired of her because of how different she is/feels and then she’ll be alone & this fear is the main debacle that she struggles with through the entire series instead of the weird love triangle thing

It’s okay everyone I’ll shut up now and go sit in my corner bye ✌️

[lxvebun]

whisper of the heart pt II

bun's notes: I'm really glad you guys enjoyed the first one so much :3 hopefully you will like this one as well.

synopsis: Genshin boys voicelines about you!

content:Alhaitham/Kazuha/Thoma/Cyno x gender neutral reader (so they/them prns used) in this series, their vision is in tune with their emotions, part one explains it the best. Cyno was incredibly difficult i'm sorry if it sucks shsjsjs. Eng is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

Part one

Alhaitham

About y/n:

"y/n and I go a long way back. They are a very intelligent, kind, and creative person. We studied under the same masters. Academic rivals? I wouldn't go as far as to say we were rivals per se, but the occasional competition between who got the highest score on an essay wasn’t out of the ordinary. Who won? Well, our scores wouldn't differ much at all actually. Even to the decimal, we usually got the same. When they asked our masters how such different essays could receive the same score. According to our masters, it seemed I lacked creativity in my writing, as they overdid the creative aspect. The masters words, not mine. Although I’ve read hundreds of books and essays in my life already, none could compare to the way y/n wrote theirs"

About vision:

"Unlike other people, I’d say I have decent control over my emotional elemental power, it at least doesn’t manifest in an obnoxious physical sense. That said, as much as I try to control it, the light of my vision starts to flicker and flutter to the rhythm of my heartbeat. So you can imagine the light show that starts once y/n enters my view *sigh* They think it’s, and I quote, "Adorable"...I suppose that makes it alright"

About relationship:

"Hah, You’re surprised I'm in a relationship? While It’s true that I don’t appear as the most approachable person out there, not that I mind, even I am not immune to love… While there’s no scientific proof out there that soulmates exist, against all logical sense, I’d like to believe y/n and I are."

Thoma

About y/n:

You haven't met y/n? Oh, they’re such a sweetheart! such a kind and inspirational soul. I’m sure you’ve seen them run around Inazuma City or Ritou before. They have the prettiest eyes and the most lovely smile. they run a lot of errands and help with general activities and festivals. In their free time, they usually help me out with housekeeping or acompany me to the market. You’re surprised I'm talking so lovingly of them? Well, of course, I would, they are my partner after all"

About vision:

"sigh I’ve had to switch to steel handle brooms instead of the normal wooden ones. It happened one too many times that I would be sweeping the floors and y/n would come up to me, resulting in small waves of fire to flutter around... Let’s just say, I’m glad my Lord has a hydro vision.

About meet cute!:

y/n and I both share a love for animals, I actually met them while they were nursing a bird back to its strength, the poor thing was still young and completely soaked because of the heavy thunderstorms. Word went around they were caring for it and I decided to take a look and see if they needed help, little did I know that I would be meeting the love of my life. We routinely feed the stray dogs and cats together when we’re both free:)"

Kazuha

About y/n:

" I was able to sense their presence in the wind long before I met them. A fragment of my soulmate in the form of a warm summer breeze, bearing the scent of roses and those familiar mapel leaves. As much as I wanted to follow it, I was still a wanted man after all. I couldn’t just return to Inazuma, no matter how much my heart cried for it.

At that time I started to keep a journal on what I was doing, what I was thinking of, and where in Teyvat I was whenever the wind carried them to me, So I could show it to them when we did finally meet. I never had the chance to finish that journal because our paths crossed sooner than I expected. Apparently, just as the wind carried them to me, it did the same for them. Fate has an interesting way of bringing people together. From the moment I stood face to face with them, I knew who they were and by the sparkle in their eye and the way they immediately rushed into my arms, I can guess it was the same for them. We’ve been wandering together ever since"

About vision:

"I’m well aware of how visions respond to your emotions. I don’t actively try to fight it, In a way, i think it’s quite romantic how my vision responds to seeing y/n by sending a breeze through their hair or twirling flower petals around them. They don’t seem to mind either"

About love language:

"From the moment y/n and I met, we decided to travel together. With every step we took, we got to know each other better, and with every rest under the starry night sky, our relationship grew stronger. They love nature as much as I do, and while I show my adoration for it in poems and music, they show their appreciation in colorful paintings and sketches. If we ever run out of paper on the road, I’m not against them using my arms as a canvas, the same way they allow me to ink love poems onto their skin. That way it doesn’t matter how far apart we are, we wear our love for each other on our skin

Cyno

About y/n:

"y/n? The fact that they are my partner is not something I tell many people, but since we are so close, yes, they are. They joined the forest rangers a while ago, I met them when I dropped of some books from the Akademiya Tighnari needed. And while I gave them to Tighnari, I decided it was a good time to tell my new joke…..Tighnari did not find it amusing, but y/n did. To this day, their laughs are still the sweetest melody I've heard, and I'm fortunate to hear them every day through my excellent jokes.

About vision:

"Please, don’t bring that up, I still feel bad about it. I didn’t know my vision would respond so strongly……fine, the first time y/n and I held hands, I got so...flustered I accidentally send a small shock wave where our hands intertwined. They weren’t hurt, but I still feel bad about it. It hasn’t stopped them from holding me though, I’m glad about that

About TCG:

"y/n and I are both quite the genius invokation tcg players, and the more rounds we play the more....energetic we get. Let's just say that Puspa cafe does have a noise limit....

For my birthday they got me a beautiful commissioned card with artwork of us on it. Having it around has become a good luck charm for me. I always keep it on the very top of my deck.

Thank you for reading angels!

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Poll 3, Round 1.

About Geode: (by @oddogoblino) In an attempt to impress The Eggman, a mad yet inexperienced scientist stole Gerald Robotnik's blueprints of Project SHADOW and tried to improve on it to make the definitive true ultimate lifeform to defeat Sonic once and for all. To add insult to injury, the eggsupporter had chosen to use some of Sonic's DNA along with Shadow's, that'd been found from battle aftermaths, to make his creation. Before their prototype was even finished though, GUN had found out about Project REMASTERED. Rouge told Shadow about it before GUN could do a raid though so he could handle this personal matter how he found fit. Well, Shadow went and destroyed the lab of course, though he wasn't prepared to see just how early in development the project was. He was expecting something full grown but all he found was the prototype barely in the infant phase in its development. Being unable to just kill a baby or adopt this all powerful baby off to an unsuspecting family (and also being unknowingly motivated by Black Arms instincts to keep the species alive), Shadow decided to take the little hoglet in as his own. At first, Shadow was too caught up in caring for Geode off instinct to think about telling anyone about him, but just a few months in and Geode already began showing his defects in creation and Shadow turned to Sonic and Tails for help. Now, Geode has inhibitor rings to keep his chaos energy at a stable level and has been growing up comfortably from home to home, adventure to adventure. Geode himself though, by the time he's 16, is a very quiet, introverted, affectionate, emotional, compassionate, and sort of awkward character. He's not good at social but he cares about others and is very forgiving when hes wronged and has decent emotional intelligence. He's a "be mindful of how you use the water if the cup's half empty" kinda thinker. He's very curious on just about anything new he discovers. Others can think of him as being a bit simple minded sometimes though. People tend to overwhelm him easily so he finds most comfort in spending time with Chao. If he's not on a mission, he's a bit of a clumsy puppy of a guy. But, if Shadow puts 2 thoughts into something and Sonic puts none, then Geode only puts 1 thought into everything he does. He's a pacifist who can't bring himself to hurt living beings, he can fight nonsentient robots just fine but otherwise he prefers to trap any living enemies in whatever he can get his hands on. He's a stealth type and has a habit of stealing artifacts and other magical things he deems too powerful to let be taken even by his dads. He can see chaos auras 24/7 to a heightened sense, being able to see the chaos energy even in plants along with being able to see the chaos energy left behind from those deceased (aka, ghosts). He's faster than Sonic but he's weaker than Shadow. He loves the world around him very dearly, having Sonic's passion for life/the world and Shadow's determination to fight for himself. Geode also has picked up mechanics as a small hobby though he's not very passionate about it.

About Brutus: (by @susahnasomething) A genetically enhanced clone of Shadow (mixed with Sonic's DNA) Brutus was made and raised by Eclipse the Darkling, who hoped to bring back the black arms by making a bunch of super powerful clones. This was not good for her. Eventually the heroes defeated Eclipse, and Shadow rescued her (not her clone siblings sadly, cause SOMEONE DECIDED THAT THERE SHALL ONLY BE ONE) and was then raised by sonadow. Brutus is a dark and conceited girl, reminding everyone of past shadow. Who firmly believes she cannot be killed nor destroyed, so she tends to throw herself into danger. (shes the ultimate lifeform nothing can hurt her!!) . . . totally!

[sgiandubh]

So in other words, you agree, Sam and Cait are not very good actors as exemplified by the scene being them and not Beauchamp and Fraser. On that, agreed. She might be a C actor, he's definitely a D

Dear Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

I suspect you might be a returning one, by the way, hoping to catch me unprepared with a very cheap sophism. Check this concept on Wikipedia if you wish, but I will give you my definition: manipulated or derailed logic, i.e. formally sustainable, but in reality just a fallacy; or, if you prefer, a bunch of crap, just for the sake of it. Also, it would be wise not to try these cheap tricks on someone trained to work with words and doing so every single day: you might find no satisfaction, ultimately.

Fun fact: I don't agree with any single word you just wrote. Sam and Cait are very good and gifted actors. Both of them. They did wonders with a very inconsistent script and under barbaric public pressure. What dragged you in here, Anon? Mrs. Gabaldon's florid, even luxuriant prose? What kept you in here, Anon? Blood and sperm and rape galore? I should wish you were honest, at least for once in your life, and let your answer be 'not really'.

What I meant by that phrase was something very simple: the actors' life experience deeply informing and sublimating their performance. If you think real and creative lives are strictly separate affairs in any intellectual endeavor, then you are probably completely unfamiliar with anything remotely related to writing, singing, playing (an instrument), acting, composing or painting. All these are akin to magic and all of the above are a summoning of sorts: ask any 'content creator', you will probably get a very similar answer. In Cait and Sam's case, their real life story nurtures and elevates their acting, despite people like you.

I am not an actor myself, but a long time ago it was acting that liberated me and taught me to not be afraid of anything. I did not make a living out of it, but I will always have the tools making me able to access that very special energy, any time I should need it. So, I can only offer you an educated opinion of These Two:

C is a very, very good actress. She is classy, sophisticated and knows instinctively how to occupy a stage or a set. She worked and progressed a LOT since Season 1, when it took me a good while to warm up to her. Add to this what I think is arresting beauty. Not really a C-level, in my book.

S is a wonderfully gifted actor who, unlike C, does not have any idea of this potential and, to be honest, gives the impression to even not care about it. He singlehandedly dominated some of the most difficult moments of the series (that unwatchable Wentworth episode comes to mind). His mastery of the Stanislavski and Lecoq methods and techniques is excellent. He is likeable, personable and has an innate emotional intelligence, helping him navigate and compensate the weaknesses of (yes, I insist!) an often insufficient script. I have already written about it, with arguments, when I found some very interesting parallels between The Fiery Cross episode and Laurence Olivier's performance in Shakespeare's Henry V. I will say it again: this guy has been grossly miscast, spare for JAMMF.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the whole preparation and rehearsal process when producing a movie or a series or a theatre show. These people don't just learn their lines by heart and turn up for readings and rehearsals. They also read and watch a lot of things that could help them build better, more credible characters. But what makes the sometimes very subtle difference between a decent performance and a stellar one is the amount of themselves they allow inside their acting. And in this respect, I think Sam and Cait have been very lucky, in what is a very clear case of Art (instinctively) imitating Life.

I doubt this answered your question and to be honest, I don't care.

[mahi-wayy]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝑨𝒁𝑨𝑫 𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑬

• General • Romantic [both sfw and nsfw]

A/n : I love him T-T

I - GENERAL

the most babygirl to every babygirl- I don't make the rules.

his puppy dog eyes are like the deadliest.

he is very comfortable in his feminine energy and actually leans into it a lot seeing that he was brought up among very strong woman.

likes wearing soft colors, the scent is uses is also not very strong one but more of a sweet smell that clings to him and lingers even when he leaves.

the darling of the jail. the whole department is kind of scared of doing anything when he not around because once a officer kind of messed up his desk, misplaced one of his belongings and that man didn't know peace because the prisoners won't let him live in peace until azad got over his loss.

there wasn't a time when he was used to like night duty and constantly fell asleep on duty and constables have told how no one makes a sound around his office or in general if they know the jailer has fallen asleep.

he is a legend of that jail but he is unaware that his story is narrated to every woman that ends up behind the bars.

once refused the option of transfer with a possible promotion because he just didn't want to leave his girls.

coming to which his team is handpicked of course, he trained everyone of them personally in combat and weapons but also helped them to sharpen some skills they already had.

has nightmares of his mother not waking up or dying in different ways.

gets scolded from kaveri over his messed up schedule all the time. no time of sleeping, no time of waking up, lunch and dinner all jumbled, you get the drift.

his trauma gives him too extreme sides. sometimes he can't grasp what is going on in the room while the other times not even s drop of sweat being wiped goes unnoticed by him in a crowded room.

he almost picked up smoking in his college days but kaveri helped him shake it off before he settled in him.

extremely sensitive to his surroundings and the energy the place and people around him have.

good with his basic emotional regulation, cries when he feels like he needs to. yes he cries during movies.

good emotional intelligence.

was a boxing champion in college and a A grader throughout his academic life.

but he was bullied in school, especially for his "girl like behavior" you know how stupid those boys can get.

used to ask kaveri about his mother all the time, which she thankfully had some answers she could give but it surprised her how he never asked about his father apart from what he did, just starring at the picture aishwarya drew him whenever he missed his dad.

very low maintenance which is to be honest a trauma response. he doesn't want to be a weight on anyone's shoulders in any form.

likes sweets over spices.

he can cook decent enough to survive but I don't recommend leaving him near a oven without supervision for too long.

not much of a party guy but can be convinced once in a while.

he is very shy, will visibly get flustered if you compliment him more than once.

II - ROMANTIC

SFW

makes the first move, very shyly.

buys flowers, chocolates and other gifts all the time.

reads books to his partner.

tries to learn their favorite thing to do so they can do it together.

talk about them to his team and other women in the jail.

surprise dates.

late night dates.

dances in the rain with them.

sleeps with his head on their chest and curled around them like a clingy child.

NSFW

he is a switch who doesn't really care about it tbh.

he is happy as long as both him and his partner are feeling good.

had a praise kink.

shy but loud moaner.

whimpers.

sensitive chest, neck and sides.

------

tags : @mayakimayahai @warnermeadowsgirl @vijayasena @voidsteffy @jkdaddy01 @rambheem-is-real @allari-ammayi @mellaga-karagani @ulaganayagi @ahamasmiyodhah @ranisingnewyetagian @myvarya @toomanyfanficsbruh @harinishivaa @chaliyaaa @tumharisakhi

[gfmima]

c. 東京卍リベンジャーズ | tokyo revengers + f!reader t. showing why flirting with his girl is a no-no

on nights you had time to spare, you went with your darling boyfriend on his gigs at the club he and his brother owned. you had nothing to worry over, most of your needs were taken care of the moment word spreads of your visit. all you had to do was sit pretty, drink, and watch him do his setlist.

you were utterly wrong when a strange man chose to settle down on the stool next to you despite the empty bar. a tragedy that frequent clubgoers were constantly reminded of after hearing tales of broken bones and disappearances.

his other error was calling the music blasting “lame noise,” believing it would make him appear intelligent and impress you. when in fact, it made him look like a conceited moron.

it was pathetic.

with the scummiest attempt at a smile you’ve ever seen, he drawls out, “ya’ come here often, cutie-pie?”

you cringe hard.

“my visits here are none of your concern.” peering across at rindō, you give him a reassuring nod, telling him nonverbally to relax and concentrate on his set because you could handle one moron for the evening. it wasn’t a big deal to you, but it was for him.

every now and again, he takes a glimpse at you to check on how you were faring. he wanted to know you were find, despite the fact that he might have behaved like a madman. and he didn’t try to hide his emotions. the way the music would increase each time the stranger opened his mouth to offer another overused pick-up line was no fluke on his part either.

he knows you’ll turn down the advances of the ugly bastard, for sure. he knows you were highly capable of taking care of yourself. he saw how decently you carry yourself around his friends and associates.

however, it doesn't mean he won’t fret over your well-being or not be irritated about the unfamiliar bloke next to you. even from the distance between his station and the bar, he couldn’t help but keep a super close eye on you throughout the evening while he transitioned from mix to mix.

ran begrudgingly volunteers to run the DJ booth. 

he had been eager to intervene soon when he first glimpsed the immature scowl on his brother’s face. it was irritating to see him mope around like a mutt in desperate need of its owner. and it was an even more pathetic sight to witness on a haitani of all people.

lighting the cigarette hanging loosely on his lips, he motions for rindō to move along. it was conceited to believe he’d let him anywhere near his ‘darling booth.’ suppose he damages it; misses the ashtray and digs the bud to its body? besides, he’d rather spare himself the argument and continue to sulk in place unless beckoned.

“you’re being a pussy, rindō.” then exhales the smoke in his direction.

he says nothing.

instead he raises the volume until it drowns ran’s voice. the last thing he needs is for him to pull the ‘older brother’ card and nag his ear off.

his brooding comes to a halt once your eyes lock again; this time with you wordlessly asking for him to interject. a surge of adrenaline flows through his veins, he chuckles,

it’s been a while since he started a fight.

“get away from her.” his tone eerily aloof. whispers start up, filled with interest and fear for the guy who is about to meet his end.

“or what, four-eyes?” he mocks, and takes a long gulp of his drink before slamming it down on the bar counter with such force that several onlookers were surprised it didn’t break in his palm.

ran lets out a low whistle.

your boyfriend didn’t hesitate a second later to hit the man on the nose, earning a startled yell at his eagerness to start a brawl. and it didn’t end there! rindō grabs him by the collar and continues to harass him until he was begging for him to stop.

“did you miss me, ‘fuyu~ ♡?”

“can you not be annoying?”

takemitchy awkwardly laughs along. he didn’t know what to do. he heard many stories about the former vice-captain of the first division from baji and chifuyu, though, to finally hang out with the young man himself was a meeting he was happy he didn’t forget.

you happen to come as well which was a big relief since you could keep him in check before he drives chifuyu mad.

he would’ve never figured ryusei was once part of the tokyo manji gang, much more a vice-captain, by the way he carries the conversation for them all buddy-buddy. you had excused yourself from the table minutes ago to order more drinks for the group. and while it was subtle to most but not to takemitchy’s keen eyes, he caught his gaze wandering to your figure every so often to confirm you were okay.

ryusei took his duties as your boyfriend seriously — enough so, he was willing to be thrown out of the restaurant. 

his patience was put to a test as soon as that bastard came up to you. he wasn’t familiar with his name yet he does recognize him as the coursemate you frequently rant about to him during those late night phone calls. in your words, he was a nuisance.

tanaka? or was it takaeda? whatever. he didn’t understand that “no” means “no,” desperate to arrange a date with you regardless of how goofy it made him appear.

“can you quit it? you know that i’m taken. so, why don’t you bother someone else, yeah?” he listens to you not so kindly turn him down. his mouth slips a wisp of a grin, he didn’t need to look to know your arms were crossed and your face bore the most judgemental expression.

“oh, c’mon! he doesn’t need to know.”

ryusei’s eye twitches.

“talk to a brick wall. ‘m not interested.”

one after another, a pool of thoughts flood his head, lagging his ability to think clearly. all that was going through his mind were methods to beat up this scumbag and a barrage of obscenities he would’ve said if you weren’t there to scold him like a disgruntled mother in front of his friends. 

chifuyu, who used to work alongside him, notices the quick change in his attitude and instantly sighs to himself for the ensuing catastrophe to happen. takemitchy, on the other hand, sweats from the heavy, tense atmosphere inside the booth.

“don’t make a scene!”

he rests a hand on his chest in mock offense. “i could never do that!” he pouts. “have you no faith in me, ‘fuyu? i’m simply going to make sure my girl is okay. i know you won’t get it but i’m sure takemitchy does.” then stands up before either of them could say a response.

“hey! what’s that supposed to mean?!”

up until this point, takemitchy had trouble viewing ryusei in the role of former vice-captain of the first division. he didn’t realize how unnerving he could be when you were the object of his ire. without the charming, boyish grin, his new friend emitted a darker aura. he would’ve meddled as usual but if hinata had been in a similar predicament, he would’ve done the same.

he shoves the bastard to the side and rests his arm by your waist to pull you away from his poor attempt at wooing you. “move it. you’re upsetting my girl here.”

ryusei would say he was a good partner. he was patient, not overprotective, and respected your boundaries. he wasn’t easily annoyed but this stranger was beginning to get on his nerves. he wasn’t going to cause any trouble, not after right after he swore he’d behave. he wasn’t listening to a word this guy said, he was going to shrug it off either way until he catches you mime a tiny, “do it,” at him.

your lover delivers a solid hit to his face before he can throw another remark. “what the hell?! fuck, she isn’t even worth all the trouble!” he shouts, as he slumps backward.

once he fled the restaurant, ryusei drifts back to his regular demeanor and feigns an injury in spite his time as a former gang member to have you coddle him.

what a baby.

[valentinos-corner]

That Thing Is Me

a rant about Atsushi's character

"That thing is me," he says. If that's the case, then that implies he's always had control over Byakko, even if he wasn't aware of it, further exemplified by the fact that Byakko never killed anyone on her rampages and only stole livestock. However, this is also... concerning.

The first scene we see Byakko in full, she immediately tries to kill Dazai. In the second, she tries to kill Ryuu and almost seems to be strategizing- hiding in Junichirou's Light Snow with almost human intelligence, striking from behind and going for the throat. She was aiming to kill.

If Atsushi is Byakko, then what does it say about him as a person that he's so willing to hurt- and even kill- others? Even Atsushi the human has displayed severe lack of concrete morals- seeming inconvenienced by Dazai's suicidal ideations, showing Lucy sympathy, yes, but only in a situation he was in 100% control in- and then immediately threatening her with a fate worse than death should she not agree to his demands, his first response to being faced with a lack of food doing a 180 from 'I'm going to die' to 'I'm going to hurt someone so I don't die.'

Plus, the fact he was so willing to run from the ADA to 'protect' them- and himself by extension, given his assumption the Mafia would be unable to find him- with zero regard for their emotions is cause for further concern. Yes, he cares about people's well-being, but he doesn't seem to understand others' emotions very well.

Possibly even more concerning, he doesn't seem to feel guilt for any of it- after all, those people hurt him first, didn't they? They deserve it, he's only trying to survive in a dog-eat-dog world. All of it was necessary.

I don't think Atsushi is a bad person, absolutely not- he saved Kyouka, he's fighting Amenogozen as we speak, he does his best to keep the people around him safe, he fought off Shibusawa. But I do think he struggles with empathy. Sympathy, he shows in spades. But understanding what others are feeling and genuinely caring is where he struggles.

I feel like a decent chunk of what we see is him either trying not to lose the people that make him feel human, or mimicking the people around him. Byakko is him completely unmasked, Atsushi at his most raw, his most primal, letting himself finally be who he is on the inside and hurt the people that hurt him.

Because in the end, that's what he wants, no?

feel free to comment or reblog with your own thoughts, this is just one silly little guy's opinion of a fictional character, and I'd love to hear yours!!

[shouts-into-the-void]

Some of My Favorite Webcomic Characters and Why:

Austen - Always Human by Walkingnorth

Your average college student experience—stressed out to the point of breaking but refusing to acknowledge it because of the societal pressure to stick with a career choice you made before you were old enough to pay taxes. The first time I'd ever been able to fully project myself onto a character. Heavily relate to crying or anger as a reaction to all strong emotions.

Lakka - Shoot Around

Ran around post-zombie apocalypse singing about her crush while killing zombies with her bare hands. Got completely blindsided by all of her friends deciding to split off to do their own thing, and then became a fashion designer about it. And got the girl in the end.

Juliette - The Beast of Hadingly Hill by HoratioMarissa

I don't know if I can put into words how much I adore her. She's adorable, protective of her girlfriend attendant. Immediately threatens to fire anyone who even looks at Mallory wrong. And she's a monster?? Everyone is being waaaaay to mean about her appearance, btw.

Brahm - A Spell For A Smith by ArtSasquatch

World's Most Respectful Man. His dynamic with Ivy and dedication to making her feel comfortable is adorable. I love when male characters with a tragic backstory are allowed to be kind and decent to other people instead of getting the Manwha ML treatment.

Michaelis - Clinic of Horrors by Merryweather and PokuriMio

Literally just wants to go to school. The greatest friend ever, would NOT let you be brainwashed into joining a cult run by a fungal infection piloting a dead body. Black hair, red eyes, and a monster??? Hello??? He fills all the requirements, guys!

A/Apollo/Avery - Seemingly Dark by RaptorJules

Looks Squishy. His dynamic with Rose is cute. Idk, he vibes like someone you want to wrap in blankets and give hot chocolate to and that sort of kicked-puppy energy appeals to me. Also whatever tragic backstory he's got going on has to be, like, The Tragic Backstory Ever and I don't even know what it is yet.

Eulalie - Nevermore by Kate Flynn and Kit Trace

The random trivia and occult facts?? The head-empty energy despite clearly being very intelligent? We are the same person. Her Spector having the ability to take away other people's Spectors has so much narrative potential and pretty much means she solos everyone. Also purple hair, eccentric personality, and potentially sapphic? She fills all of the requirements, guys!

[th3-0bjectivist]

Dear listener, sometimes it takes concentration and a deep dive into the catalog of some bands before I’ll find the resonance I need to recommend them to others. Deerhunter is one of those bands. At first, I found their music to simply be weird yet strangely haunting, but most of it was certainly not for me. I just wasn’t feeling their vibe, even though I knew the compositions were special in some way. Recently, I’ve felt this inexplicable urge to closely examine their albums. I wanted to like their tunes, because their music didn’t just sound different from anything else out there; it was an experience of sorts that I’d been pushing to the side. Upon a few proper and extended listens, I began to discover how artsy, intellectually stimulating and enigmatically ambient their jams truly are. The more I listened, the more I enjoyed their eerie sound, and found a bunch of great audio tracks to boot. Just above you’ll find Helicopter from their 2010 album Halcyon Digest, which in my humble opinion is the magnum opus of their catalog. Join me just below for another song from that album and some info on the group featured this week.

Hailing from Atlanta, Deerhunter makes a type of music that thrives on two factors: minimalism and weighty ambience. This is music that can entrance someone and is structured in a way that will mesmerize you as much as it affects you emotionally. I tend to enjoy tunes that make you remember moments or feelings you thought you’d forgotten, and every track they’ve released hits a home run for me in that regard. This is a group that considered giving up early on, as creating some of their earliest works reportedly sapped them of their emotional and physical strength. Band members had panic attacks in the studio as technical problems left them exhausted at the quality of their own works, which was severely lacking in majesty even to their own standards. But just because you’re on the ropes, it doesn’t mean you’ve lost the fight. It takes a long time to get good, and with many lineup changes over the decades this band’s output has become more and more emotionally mature and intelligent as time has gone on. The music from their grand slam album, Halcyon Digest, which received widespread acclaim for a good reason, has a very particular and peculiar eeriness to it; like you’re looking through photos in a dusty Memories photobook and romanticizing the distant past. To create that kind of atmosphere is something no other band has given me the experience of, and I never thought I’d recommend music that feels distinctly nostalgic, but here it is! As of writing this, they haven’t put out a new album since before the UNSPECIFIED VIRUS FROM UNKNOWN ORIGINS turned the world upside down. If you need a decent new experience with music, I’d say give these guys a shot. Because if you’re anything like me, the two works I’m posting to this blog will probably strangely haunt you for weeks on end, and you’ll go searching for more. Their tunes can be a true psychedelic experience if you allow them to, and you’ll find actual meaning and sincerity in the lyrics, which, let’s face the facts is a bit short in supply with modern pop. Just below you can smash play on Desire Lines and enjoy some songs from a group that puts an emphasis on atmospheric excellence.

The more I listen to these guys, the more I like them. I feel as if very few people have the patience to continue exploring the work of a group that didn’t hook or blow them away instantly. Sometimes a little study is required to understand not only the words to the tune, but also why the notes needed to be played that way. Thanks for reminding me there are still emotionally complex hidden gems out there in the music industry, Deerhunter! Image source: https://www.timeout.com/newyork/music/deerhunter

[science-lings]

Extra details bc polls have a character limit and I am a certified yapper

1- Naturally quiet Bruce my beloved, selectively mute even. He knows he's bad at words and if he doesn't know what to say he just doesn't say anything at all and that is not good for being a decent communicator. Thankfully Cass doesn't need words to know, so they just hang out without saying a single thing.

2- Brucie is who he is when he HAS to interact with people and HAS to come off as 'normal' and it has never been who he really is. Also, this guy fixates on strategizing and some of the most random things with the excuse that it could be useful at some point, he has trouble in social and emotional situations. Yes, Battinson opened my eyes to this concept and I am not letting it go.

3-As much as I like the masks having glowing white lenses, I need them to put makeup on each other for crime-fighting reasons. Battinsons raccoon eyes are so important to me. I want to see him carefully putting some green eye makeup on a hyperactive 9 yo Dick Grayson RIGHT NOW

4-Titus and Ace have gone through therapy dog training (specifically for PTSD) and the rest are only qualified because they make Damian feel better, they don't actually get much special treatment. He just likes introducing people to his emotional support cow/turkey/bat-dragon-demon creature/ Alfred (cat).

5- I think canonically he can cook and the joke is that haha he needs Alfred to do everything for him but like this guy went alone off the grid for years and can in fact take care of himself or at least his basic health needs. The thing is that when he cooks he gets distracted while things are cooking and forgets to put on timers. He just puts food low on the scale of things that are important to pay attention to so if anything comes up to take his attention he's screwed. He works better if he's part of a group of people cooking or there's someone there to tell him to pay attention.

6- I think while the Waynes were alive, Alfred was mostly pretty distant, he was part of the staff even if he was one of their favorites. He wasn't Bruce's nanny or anything. But he was trusted by them and they didn't trust any other family to take care of Bruce in the event of their death. Even after the Incident, Alfred wasn't really prepared to raise a child, I feel like we always make Alfred the emotionally intelligent one when he mostly raised Bruce post-horrific trauma. I don't think Alfred is perfect, I think there was always that barrier keeping him and Bruce from really connecting during his childhood.

Bruce saw everyone leave, his parents, the rest of the staff, and he is convinced that one wrong move means that Alfred will leave him too so he doesn't want to do something wrong and drive his last person away. Even though he is a traumatized child filled with rage, every time it becomes too much and he gets into a fight or breaks something he is terrified that means Alfred will find someone else to take care of him. Slowly this fear fades but it comes back when he turns 18 bc that's when he becomes an adult which means Alfred won't be obligated to stick around. But it comes and goes and Alfred is... still there? It's only at this point that he starts to think of Alfred as part of his family and over the years he actually allows himself to think of Alfred as his father.

7- I don't think I have to explain this one, I think he has a weird relationship with sex and will seduce people for the Mission but has never been particularly into it. Sometimes he does it because that's what his partners want but if no one asks for it or there's no outside reason to do it, he has better things to do. Maybe he's even uncomfortable with it but can do it to keep up pretenses and because that's what Brucie would do.

8- I think the big scary vampire-coded vigilante should take off his big scary cape and wrap it around his kids and carry them off into the night. It's good for people going into shock as well. I think it is secretly very warm. It is also a good hiding place for robins of a certain size. Full-grown Jason would have trouble hiding there but its blanket use is still fully applicable.

9-We typically only see the big cavern with all the vehicles and the batcomputer but I think it would be fun if that was just the Hub of the cave system. There are tunnels that lead to labs and rooms made for the creation and upkeep of armor and other vigilante wear, there are quarantine rooms and containment vaults, target ranges and a surgery center and so much more. It is a labyrinth in there and there is always a new section being worked on. There is also a tunnel that leads to the Drake residence which made it especially easy for Tim to sneak home when he needed to.

10- how is this 40(?) yo man doing the splits while fighting, he does flips, how is he moving like that. He's not just a big strong guy, he's also fast and evasive and I like to think that aside from the lack of quips, he did a pretty good job convincing ppl he was Nightwing that one time.