#also excellent points in the replies I don't have anything to add

[mayspicer]

These are my pseudoglomeris magnifica babies (and an adult male) having a meal. They are super pretty, but the cutest fact about them is that their mom carries the babies on her underside until their first molt :)

Pictured here, but the glass of their enclosure is dirtyyyy

I have an irrational fear of cockroaches so if someone who really likes them wants to tell me positive things about them (roles they play in environments, cool features of specific species, etc.) I think that might help

Obviously no pressure on anyone, I just think that the fact that so much information that I can find about them is steeped in hatred and fear doesn't really help

If you're going to hate on cockroaches (or qny other bugs tbh) please don't do it here, this is not a space to hate them

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Olympics Headcanons

Some headcanons I have about Buck and Bucky as Olympic athletes, initially inspired by this post by @brotherwtf and my replies to it with @impalachick. I just felt like fleshing these ideas out a bit more. Anyone feel free to add to it!

John as a gymnast and Gale as a horseback rider:

First of all, Bucky is a gymnast. it's easy to imagine him as a rower because of Boys in the Boat, but hear me out... LOOK at those thighs, those shoulders. He's a bit tall but shhhh it's fine, he'd excel at men's gymnastics. Especially rings and floor.

He's been doing gymnastics since he was little -- just imagine a tiny sassy Bucky tumbling around and doing handstands. He's always been good, but when he hit puberty and put on all that muscle, wow.

He definitely has strengths in certain events, but he's an all-around gymnast with a tendency for pushing boundaries. He's known for the raw power and strength he shows in his events. I don't think this is his first Olympics either, since gymnasts tend to be on the younger side. He's been on the map probably since he started college.

He's just getting better with age, though. People don't pay as much attention to men's gymnastics as they do women's, but man they talk about John Egan (it helps that everyone is a little in love with him).

I've decided to indulge myself and imagine Gale as an equestrian. He does eventing (jumping, dressage, and cross-country)

He didn't grow up with any fancy horses or trainers or tack. He wore hand-me-downs for years and trained green horses from the ground up and worked tirelessly on farms in exchange for ride time. He worked for every inch of what he's accomplished, always for the love of the animal and of the sport.

The equestrian athletes tend to be older, so this might be Gale's first Olympics. He's the new young hotty on the equestrian team that everyone wants to watch. Maybe in this way John kind of helps him navigate being an Olympian.

I don't know how or when they first meet, but one of the first things John notices about Gale (other than how beautiful he is and that voice and those eyes) is how deeply he cares for and loves his horse, who is his partner in this crazy sport. I imagine Gale as an animal-lover, and he values his horse more than anything else in this world (except, eventually, maybe John)

John has next to no experience with horses. He's not scared of them, but appropriately wary perhaps. And Gale's horse is tall, which doesn't help. He's nervous the first time Gale takes him into the stables but tries to act like he's not. He wants so badly for Gale's horse to like him (she does).

Also I feel like Gale rides a mare -- they're sassy and opinionated and so so loyal for the right person (vague parallel to John??? lol)

They start learning about each others' sports and try to watch every event the other is in, becoming each others' biggest fans even if they only half know what's going on. John is always a little terrified watching Gale ride, especially during cross-country. Gale thinks he's crazy for this because he can barely watch sometimes when John is flipping through the air so high off the ground like that.

Them exploring Paris together when they're not competing!!! Imagine the general shenanigans and romance and cuteness of them galivanting around the city together.

They definitely get some attention as a sort of "it" couple during the games and pictures start circulating of them together. An unlikely pairing across sports, especially because Gale and John have such different personalities and reputations. The attention makes Gale a little uncomfortable, so John starts making a point to obnoxiously block any photos reporters try to take of them together. This ends up just making Gale laugh and he tells John to stop.

When they're home, they try to teach each other basics of their sports. Gale gives John a pony ride on his Olympic sport horse who is worth thousands and thousands of dollars and tries to teach him how to ride by himself. John is clumsy about it but only falls maybe once, and he's determined to please Gale so he keeps trying. John tries to teach Gale how to do some basic tumbling but Gale, while strong in his own right, just does not have that type of strength, coordination, or flexibility and repeatedly falls on his ass before adamantly refusing to ever do it again (I love those videos of olympic athletes trying each others' sports)

Totally did not mean to build on this so much and don't intend to do anything with it but I'm gonna be thinking about this a lot I think.

[joylinda-hawks]

Of course I know that. That's why I'd like to congratulate this man. Ah Xu don't say anything. We'll see how the warrior Gao turns the tide and responds to this conspiracy. WOH, episode 15, part 9. ZZS wants to talk some sense into WKX. When ZZS says that GC was framed, WKX replies that he knows about it and adds that that's why he'd like to congratulate this man personally. ZZS looks at WKX who tells ZZS not to say anything and adds that they'll see how the warrior GC turns the tide and responds to this conspiracy. Around the monument, all the gathered warriors start talking over each other. There's some chaos. GC asks the gathered to be quiet. After a call, there's silence. GC explains that there may have been some misunderstanding between LX's father and GC. GC states that he doesn't have any selfish thoughts regarding Arsenal. One of the warriors asks if it's a misunderstanding or something more. And he adds that GC should not mislead people and demands the release of Glazed Armor. Another warrior repeats his demand. Driven to the extreme, GC swears by the Heavens that what he says is true. He adds that when they defeat Ghost Valley, LX and GC will release the scrolls from the Arsenal to all sects. If he is dishonest, let him be cut into a thousand pieces. Everyone gathered is silent, so GC says that if no one objects, the decision in this matter has been made. After a while, the beggar turns to LX and tells him that he has come a long way, so he can go to bed. One of the students of GC's sect takes the wheelchair from LX. GC tells ZJ to stand up from his knees. ZJ is still kneeling and GC loudly raises a demand. In response, ZJ bows to GC, bowing his head towards the podium. LX smiles seeing what is happening. SS helps ZJ to stand up. ZCL is surprised by what has happened. GC approaches the boy and tells him not to be afraid. He asks the boy to come with him. They both go to the edge of the platform, ZCL wants to say something but GC tells the audience that he wants to tell them one thing. He points to ZCL and explains that the boy is the son of ZYS and he is the last descendant of the Mirror Lake Sect. ZZS and WKX listen attentively in silence to GC's speech. GC states that he has decided to give ZCL his daughter in marriage. In the future, ZCL will be his son-in-law and together with his daughter they will lead the Mirror Lake Sect and the Yueyang Sect. ZCL does not know how to behave due to the agreement he made with ZZS. ZZS is also surprised. GC goes on to say that when this happens he will become a monk and will walk his own path with Buddha. He will never interfere in the affairs of this world again. GC tries with all his might to control the unfavorable course of events for him. He promises that after defeating Ghost Valley, he will give the scrolls from Arsenal to the sects. Few people believe him. So he decides to use his last trump card and says that ZCL will marry GCL. WKX watches with joy as GC stands on the edge of the abyss, and ZZS fears for the fate of ZCL after GC's statement. Here we have a dynamic scene at the monument and a static scene with ZZS and WKX. ZZH and GJ are excellent in such quiet scenes where they only play with facial expressions and small gestures.

[o-uncle-newt]

TWO: what an incredible cast

Long and shitty day today, so put on St Petersburg (as I often do) to make myself feel better. It obviously worked great, but it also ended up being a really good reminder of what I already planned to write about today, which is- what a FANTASTIC set of actors this show has!

It goes without saying that the main four are perfect. You get Stephanie Cole and Roger Allam mid-excellent careers, you get a rapidly rising Benedict Cumberbatch pre-typecast/when people remembered he could do comedy, and of course you get the multitalented JF. I add the multitalented part here to kind of call back to what I've said in past posts- so much of what makes the show great is that all of the scripts are written beautifully to the voices, but in fact without as perfect a set of voices as this show has where would we be? Each of the actors falls into their characters, makes them their own, and is just absolutely transformative, giving the show an all-important foundation.

(They're also actors with great resumes- like many people I got to Cabin Pressure FROM a particular part of BC's filmography lol*, but Stephanie Cole is great in Waiting for God and Roger Allam... well, he's been good in everything I've seen him in but I think the most important thing to me is that he originated the role of English-language Javert. There is little that is more epic than that.)

(*I will note- while I got here from Sherlock, it's being able to see past his typecasting courtesy of Cabin Pressure, and as a result seeing his range and abilities, that kept me watching other things he was in- Patrick Melrose, for example, was fantastic and you'd never think he was the type to do it from either Sherlock OR Cabin Pressure.)

A lot has been said of how BC broke out halfway through Cabin Pressure but stayed on the show rather than be recast- but in general, I will say that the fact that all the actors came through and gave their all to the show each week, taking advantage of the flexibility of radio to commit to being there the full run of the show, is honestly a gift. Radio shows do recast voices (as we know from Newcastle), and one has to live with it, but it would just be a different show if any of them had been permanently recast. To us, those voices and vocal mannerisms ARE the characters. (I'll add- while I don't think I've seen anything from Roger Allam saying his opinion on the show, both Stephanie Cole and BC have at various points discussed how much they enjoyed making it and liked the scripts and working with JF, which is always nice! And until a couple of years ago Stephanie was a semi-frequent reply guy to JF's Twitter, which was sweet lol.)

It's just so impressive the way that the main cast imbued their characters with so much individuality and personality. Benedict Cumberbatch picks the exact right voice and mannerisms to convey how, no matter how much Martin will try to bluster, he isn't going to win, and his performance is really nimble given the broad array of emotions Martin experiences and the journey he goes on over the course of the show. Stephanie Cole is sharp and sarcastic and knows exactly how to calibrate it so that she shows just enough vulnerability for the situation (on the rare occasions it's needed) and it never feels false, as can sometimes happen. Roger Allam realizes that Douglas is always both performing and pretending that he isn't performing, and being able to express that no matter what emotion is called for is really remarkable. And honestly, JF wrote the role of Arthur as so calibrated to his own abilities that I'm not sure if any other actor could pull off the character without him seeming false.

But- and this is where my having watched St Petersburg comes in- this show also has such fantastic actors playing the side characters, whether recurring actors like Anthony Head and Matilda Ziegler or one off* actors like Prunella Scales** and Phil Davis, are just perfect. And like, they're given great scripts to work with (and these COULDN'T be customized to their strengths, I'm sure, in the same way as the others!), but they bring so much to it that it's incredible.

*Or, often, two off, as actors were sometimes booked for two-episode recording blocks and played different characters in each

**Incidentally, according to a podcast interview JF did, Prunella Scales was in the early stages of dementia when she recorded Wokingham- and while she wasn't always super together in regular conversation, she would immediately snap into a tone-perfect performance as soon as they were recording

I feel like St Petersburg is a really good example of the importance of great side-character actors, because it only has two and they're perfect in totally different ways. First, of course, you get the brilliant Timothy West as the brilliant "all right" Gordon Shappey, who is just amazing. He takes on an (apparently last-minute-warning) attempt at an Australian accent that I am incapable of judging in order to create one of the most enjoyably if despicably slimy characters there is. He just is perfect, and his delivery of "Hailey sends her love though of course she doesn't mean it" is a particular thing of beauty that just shows how a great actor can elevate an already great line into something special. I'm so glad we got him back in the finale.

And then we have Paul Shearer, who is Tommo, and a poster boy for "there are no small parts." I have no idea whether it was JF or David Tyler or his own decision that led to how he said his lines of dialogue- though on the principle that leads GERTI to be an airdot, I'd almost call them dashes of dialogue- but whoever's call it was it was a genius one and executed so well by him. A role that could have been nothing ends up being the one that got some of the most sustained laughs of a hilarious episode. He deserves so much credit.

I know that there are theater troupes that perform Cabin Pressure scripts, and I'm always so curious how they go because I just can't picture anyone else performing the characters. If those plays are good, it's of course a tribute to those actors as well as to JF's quality scripts- but if the characters LIVE for us and become three-dimensional enough to make people want to re-perform them, then it's a tribute to the original actors who embodied- or perhaps envoiced- them. Kudos to them all.

[yujo-nishimura]

The Escape - Part 36

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - Part 35

As you wake up from another slumber, you notice a tray of soup and bread placed beside your bed. Hunger suddenly surges through you, and you sit up slowly, beginning to sip the soup. It's one of the most delicious meals you've had in a while, and to your surprise, it's still warm. You savor each spoonful of this heaven-like meal.

Shortly after finishing the soup, the cook, Sanji, enters the room to check on you. He rushes over eagerly, addressing you with a touch of chivalry that you can't quite decipher—whether it's a playful act or a genuine aspect of his character.

"Y/n-swaaaan, did you enjoy the soup I just made for you?" he asks, his enthusiasm palpable. You hand him the tray, and as your fingers accidentally brush against his, you notice a hint of melting in his expression. Compared to the other men you've encountered on the Grand Line, at least he doesn't hold back his feelings, which adds a certain charm to his demeanor.

"It was wonderful, thank you so much!" you reply gratefully. Amusement dances in your eyes as he bombards you with offers. "Can I get you anything else, my dear? Coffee? Tea? More soup? Perhaps a healing and reassuring embrace?"

You laugh, realizing that if you were to accept any further offers, you'd need to send him off to fetch some coffee to avoid eventually landing in his arms. He appears content with simply being able to do anything for you, and he practically floats upstairs to fulfill your heart's desires. You find solace in this unconditional kindness, a gesture you hadn't encountered for a while on the Grand Line. 

After several days of enjoying Sanji's delicious cooking and receiving excellent care from Chopper, your strength returns, and the swelling on your hip nearly vanishes. Stepping onto the deck, you finally meet the rest of Luffy's crew. Zoro, the always sleepy swordsman, catches your eye, while Usopp, the skilled sniper with an exaggerated nose and inflated ego, stands nearby. You also have the opportunity to meet with Nami again, confirming your suspicion that she had been the one to notice your distress and discover your note.

"As soon as we had proof that you needed help, I asked these two monsters to bring you back," Nami shares, smiling as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In that moment, you feel an overwhelming desire to hug her, but you understand that your friendship is not yet at a point where such displays can be shown publicly.

Luffy descends from the ship's second level, casually draping his arm around your shoulder in an intimate gesture. You can't help but feel relieved that it was Luffy who found you.

"So, I heard we're going to beat up a clown again?" Zoro remarks from his seated position near the mast.

"No," you reply quietly, a determined glint in your eyes. "I will be the one to take down the clown. You all just sit back and watch."

After several days of sailing and following the logpose you reach another island which looks deserted but at least not as hot and dry as Alabasta. Nami decides to take a stop at the island until the logpose is stored again, also trying to encourage everyone to come up with a plan to find the Buggy pirates. “We cannot continue our adventure on the Grand Line before Y/n didn't have her revenge!” Usopp shouts, he had completely taken your side after he learned that you were not only a fellow pirate but a strong fighter as well.

“Don't you think we can somehow lure Buggy to this island and beat him up here?” Sanji asks. “We don't even know how to reach him..”, Nami remarks. “I know he has a transponder snail.”, you look at your friends hoping this new knowledge about the clown pirate would help to find a feasible solution. 

“We can also just wait here and hope he eventually comes to get you.” Luffy laughs.

“I am sure Crocodile has informed him that you have escaped. If it is true what you said about them seeming to be friends Buggy might be already on his way to get you back.”

"Why would he...?" you begin to question, your shoulders slumping. Deep down, a part of you still yearns for Buggy to come for you, to rescue you, to engage in a fierce battle, even if it means being abducted again. It's difficult to fathom that, in your own despair and longing for his attention, any scenario could satisfy you at this point. Nami senses your conflicting emotions and the sadness in your voice. She reaches out to you, attempting to offer solace and lift your spirits. "Y/n, I'm sure he'll come for you. After evading Crocodile, he now has the chance to claim your bounty."

As Nami's words sink in, a mixture of emotions swirls within you. Her attempt to offer encouragement and lift your spirits is evident, but the underlying truth hits you with a wave of sadness. Buggy's perception of you solely as a bounty, a means to claim rewards, weighs heavily on your heart.

[heytheredeann]

Do you have any advice on responding on commenters on fics. I want to interact with commenters but I don’t know what to say and I feel awkward doing it.

Ooooh alright, I feel you LOL. Bad news is that it does still feel kind of awkward to me, because I'm BAD at taking compliments and I never feel like the way I answer can properly convey how excited I am that this person liked what I wrote... but, to be fair, I don't think ANY answer could really capture that excitement LOL.

Still, I do answer comments as a general rule, so hopefully I can be of some help anyway! And of course, if anyone else has any suggestions feel free to drop them in the replies or in a reblog.

So.

There is no real “rule” for answering comments, I think it’s important to remember that it doesn’t need to be a formal interaction, you are just two people with a shared love for some characters/ships (A LOT of love, I’m assuming, considering that one of you is writing fics and the other is taking the time to interact with said fics), so try to treat it like a casual conversation, not a performance!

Also very important to remember, what you are doing when you are answering a comment is, at its core, giving validation to the reader. You are letting them know that you appreciate their comment and that you wanted to take the time to say thank you, which readers, in my experience, DO appreciate very much. So like, even just saying “Thank you very much!” or “Thank you, I’m happy you enjoyed it!” is a good answer that is nice to receive. This kind of answer is a good baseline for answering comments imo, if you can’t think of anything else to say just leave it at that! Just like a short comment is very much appreciated and way better than no comment, a short answer is very much appreciated and way better than no answer.

And if you fear that you are being too repetitive in your answers, remember that you are the one writing ten answers in a row, the reader is only getting one thank you!

Still, if you want to come up with more elaborate answers, I’d say try to “mirror” what the comment said.

Meaning that, for example, if someone points out a line they liked, you can thank them for the compliment on that, or say that you are happy they liked that, or, if you can, add some commentary on it (which in my case would be about the thought process behind the line, or about what’s going with the characterization, or something along the lines of “LOOOL yes, they are idiots”).

Or, if someone points out something else that they specifically liked, for example a scene, or bits of characterization, you can discuss those, for example by sharing what you think was going on in the non-POV character’s head during that scene, or discussing how else that scene could have played out by changing certain details, or discuss headcanons that you have related to the fic, maybe what would happen after or what was happening during a time jump, etc (readers, as a general rule, do love to hear about this kind of stuff!).

And, again, it doesn’t have to be formal! Since I have the charming bad habit of writing a lot of pain, sometimes people leave me crying emojis and/or screams as a reaction (which, btw, is DELIGHTFUL LOOOL) and my answer tends to be something along the lines of “SORRY, MY BAD *collects your tears in a jar*”, so like. there LOL.

Also, I had never thought about this before, but you can add pictures/memes/gifs to your reply if those help you express your feelings, that could be fun! (Maybe I should try too loool)

It’s also nice, imo, when a reader leaves a row of comments, to let them know in one of your answers how much you appreciated that! Let them know if you grinned for an hour, if you kept checking for notifications and were delighted when you saw them leaving more and more comments, if you were having a bad week and that was an excellent pick-me-up, etc. (letting them know how they made you feel could be a good idea in general, even if you are answering just the one comment).

That is pretty much all that I can think of at the moment, hopefully there’s something useful in here loool Mostly I think it’s just a matter of trying to let yourself have fun with it, it’s not serious, it’s not a performance, you are fine! <3 (Said the extremely anxious bean, very hypocritically. I swear I’m getting better at letting myself go LOL)

[possessionisamyth]

Reasons to Love Ada Wong:

-Outstanding Intelligence: As seen in damnation, re4, and re6, Ada knows how to remain one step ahead. She knew the BSAA lie would fall through so she could get into the facility to access what she really needed. She immediately adjusted her plan in re4 to make her helping Leon out of tight fits appear as inconsequential tasks while she went towards her goal. She immediately figured out the "Simmons" calling her wasn't Simmons at all. She's not someone you can outsmart easily.

-Excellent Self-Preservation: Gotta look out for #1 baby, and Ada is the best embodiment of that. RE is packed with enough martyrs who will give up their entire lives "fighting for the cause". This girl is there to get her paycheck and get the fuck out so she can live her life, and I respect it. I hope she charges triple for overtime and extra hassle. We should all be doing that.

-Plays The System Like A Fiddle: Ada says fuck cops. Ada says fuck the government. Ada says fuck corporations. As long as what they're doing won't pull her into a long standing cross fire, she will work for the money they offer, but she'll go where she pleases once she's done. Is that really any different than people in real life looking for a better job when leaving an old, shitty one? I don't think it is.

-Has only one weakness: Ada knows her limits. She knows when she can save someone and when she can't. She knows when to let something lie and when to go for it. Leon is her only weakness, but everyone else she can take or leave unless they prove they'll have value for her work. If Leon died, she'd retire or go back to being ultra capable, so kill him Capcom.

-Impeccable fashion: Ignoring the dragon lady take with og re4 dress, Ada's other outfits are fire. Red is a wonderful color on her because it hides the blood, and also she's so hot.

-Emotionally Unavailable: She is the only RE woman who is not seen sincerely comforting a man or comforting a child(re2/re2r doesn't count because she's acting). This is extremely refreshing. Yes, she is the sexy femme fatale, but does she comfort Leon? No. Does she baby Sherry when she saves her? No. This isn't a moral failing. She's just not that into you, and it's not a flaw. It's an underutilized character trait with women especially.

-Hookshot User: I don't know about the people younger than me, but this was the coolest tool for people to use in cartoons when I was a kid. It's the closest a normal human can get to being Spiderman, and that automatically puts a character on the Best Design list in my opinion.

-High-risk High-reward Thinker: Working with B.O.Ws in any capacity means you're somewhat of a gambler. What does Chris get from going into enemy territory to arrest some guy? Paperwork. What does Jill get from saving Chris' life? Brainwashed into a killing machine and made blonde(the worst fate bestowed upon women). Leon fights for his country. Ew. Gross. You know what Ada gets going into death ridden zones? Her bag. Her check. Her money, and it's actually worth it.

-Espionage S-Rank: The international arrest warrant is going to make things a little more difficult, but Ada's made her career around going under the radar to get in and out of high security areas. She gets the gear, the guns, and plays her role with finesse. Her intel gathering skills must be impeccable to achieve this.

Quick Bullet Points:

Not a eugenicist. (Wesker is.)

Doesn't experiment on corpses. (Heisenberg does this.)

No god-complex. (Wesker has this.)

Against child labor? (Heisenberg wants a baby gun.)

Doesn't make viruses that kill people. Only gets paid to move them around. (Unlike some people.)

Thinks Leon is pathetic, but likes him anyway even if he's a lil ugly. Which is so nice of her. (❤️)

So there's my comprehensive list I said I'd make weeks ago but am just now getting to. If anyone has anything else to add feel free to do so in the replies. If you're here to be an Ada hater, you'll get blocked.

[acidcorrodes]

for the mun -> what does your URL mean, and why did you choose it? // who was the first faceclaim that was 'ruined' for you in the rpc? why was that? // what skills have you gained by roleplaying? // what faceclaim do you wish you could play, and why haven't you used them/yet?

-> About the url

Regarding the url, it was honestly the only thing I could come up with at the time! Initially (c. 2013) my url was dmitryhackshaw, back when it was just the one muse for a group rpg. I then converted it to an indie rp blog, which then at some point had the url slitthroattherapy as a vibes thing ✨ (and song reference), and at another point it had the url nyantry as a joke I became too fond of accidentally. I still keep the old urls but am not currently doing anything much with them, except I'm using nyantry for my 1x1 rp. Now, at some point, I decided to add more muses and so it no longer made sense to me to use Dmitry-centric urls. The only thing I could come up with that made sense for all/most of the muses was acidcorrodes, which was meant to evoke... I suppose the way hardship can absolutely get under your skin and absolutely, thoroughly change you into something new. It's not meant to be purely a destructive image, it can go either way. Some substances become weaker after corrosion or oxidation, others become stronger. That's what I wanted to evoke! My favorite characters to write are characters who have been transformed in some way, characters who are built from their past rather than simply "getting over it" or "forgetting" or whatever. I like the idea of integrating it, of living with it, of transforming it into something greater.

-> About ruined FCs

I don't think I truly have any fcs that I consider ruined, per se. The only fcs I'm not willing to write with are severely problematic ones (think: serial killers) and, generally speaking, anime faceclaims because the drawings kind of take me out of my own imagination. (I'm generally willing to write with characters that have anime fcs, but without the images, just text-only). That being said, I think the drama of the Depp vs. Heard case kinda put me off from Amber Heard as a fc, even if on principle I don't have a problem and I don't have a stance on the case — I don't know the actual details, I just know the outcome was basically "both owe each other some form of restitution". But truly, wholeheartedly, honestly, the character isn't the faceclaim and I stand by that as a principle, so I don't do banned fc lists or anything of that sort.

-> Skills

Oh man, where to begin! One of the first things I learned, since I started roleplaying on forums and then moved to Tumblr, was how to edit HTML and CSS. I'm in the process of learning how Tumblr theme code actually works from the ground up, as opposed to just the styling, because I'd like my blog to look neater honestly. (Yes, I know people mostly prefer dash-only; I just don't wanna go to third-party sites to host information I can host.... right here.... on this same website.) I was also motivated by writing Dmitry specifically to learn more about Russian culture, the Russian language itself, and to learn about aerospace engineering. I wound up getting a minor in aerospace eng. as part of my degree! But generally, all the Russian text I occasionally drop in, the Russian text on his pinterest, and other little bits like that are genuine and meaningful. I also learned a ton about Catholicism, partially motivated by the plots I was and am writing, and partially just due to my own interest. I've also over time learned how to structure my replies better and how to describe stuff with more detail to evoke what I'm imagining. Plus a ton of random vocabulary; English is my second language.

-> Which fc would you like to play?

Honestly, Renée Phoenix is excellent as a fem!Dmitry but there's basically zero gifs, and after Steady Damage she changed her hair and FFR kinda went extremely quiet and so idk. No resources. Similar problem with F*lice F*wn, which is why Dmitry's genderbent faceclaim is Tuppence Middleton as Riley Blue in Sense8 instead. Aside from that, I think Oli Sykes and Sam Carter are absolutely gorgeous but I haven't come up with characters, and I don't think there's many Sam gifs either. I like musicians as faceclaims, what can I say? As far as actors/actresses, I don't really currently know! I've mainly been re-watching shows I've seen a thousand times like The Twilight Zone, Supernatural, Dexter, and others, and while some actors and actresses stand out to me, I'd truly like to write more female muses, esp. non-white ones. The lack of diversity in my muses is primarily due to the fact that many of them are at least a decade old, and back then there weren't as many options for faceclaims with gifs specifically. That's completely changed now, which is wonderful! But for now I'm hesitant to add more muses before revamping the ones I already have and making things make sense in my brain first I think.

[fragileswift1313]

Birds!

Featuring the first cross-post with Tumblr!

Kia ora, friends!

Before I begin, I just want to say... hello again! (and sorry about the weird AI-generated bird)

It's been quite a while since I posted here, but that's all changing as of today. For a few months I've been writing a Substack publication about my personal fiction-writing and a bit about videogames as well, and I decided I should try something new to reach some more people. I was listening, today, to an episode of the excellent Decoder podcast from The Verge and Nilay Patel with the CEO of Tumblr and I thought, "I have a tumblr! Maybe I should use it?" so here I am. This is my most recent post, and while I'm looking for a solution to port all of my other posts over to Tumblr, I don't feel hopeful, so at least for now, you can read all of those here, and subscribe to get new posts in your inbox every Monday at 8:00AM NZST. Going forward, I will also be posting my new stuff here at the same time and date, so look out for that!

Anyway, let's dig in.

Now, if you know anything about me from Twitter or Mastodon at this point, it probably won’t surprise you to know that a bunch of my writing prompts literally come from dreams I’ve had. I figure, if it worked for Stephenie Meyer, why not me, right? Not all of my dream ideas have been good ones, and often I don’t even remember them fully, but there’s a core idea that sticks in my brain. You might remember this post from a couple of weeks ago where I woke up to a text I’d sent myself that just said “New Bees”, and while I had no idea what I had meant by that, those two words still worked for me as a great prompt - and I was pretty happy with what I ended up with.

That brings me to today’s item: Bird After Bird. I’m hesitant to call this, in it’s current form at least, a story - it’s more a description of an occurrance, if that makes sense. This is probably not something I am going to revisit any time soon because the concept is so surreal and otherworldly to me right now, but it might come up again later if I add to it, or if I have the dream again and remember more of it. Now, I’ll get to what I’ve written in a sec, but I want to put a quick content warning here; this one contains some birds being killed, so if you’re not down with that, maybe skip this one. There’s nothing graphic or gory, but it is explicitly mentioned and described. Okay, now if you’re cool with that, let’s get into the… thing I wrote.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was picking up bird after bird from the benchtop beside her, giving them a quick knock on the backs of their necks with the handle of a knife to instantly kill them, and then placing them in a bowl at her other side. The birds sat patiently there, awaiting their turn, chirping amongst themselves, as one after another met their end. I was confused, and concerned.

"What was happening here? What is its purpose?"

And she stood there, the scene practically silent, except for the soft chirping of the birds and the dull blow of the knife handle. I watched her, motionless. She knew I was there but did not acknowledge me. “I don’t know why, but there must be a reason,” I heard myself say, and it seemed to comfort her. She didn’t reply, she just kept picking up the birds, swiftly killing them, and placing them into the bowl.

We stood there for hours. The birds kept coming, she kept working, and the bowl… never seemed to get full. Time seemed to be standing still; the sun had not moved in the sky, and the wisps of cloud in front of it remained. The air was cool and crisp and still.

I felt that I loved her, and she loved me, but the birds kept lining up next to her, one after the other, offering themselves to her knife, to her bowl. What did it mean? I asked her, but again she didn’t respond. Whatever the purpose of this action was, it seemed to be beyond us both, maybe even the birds themselves.

“I don’t know why, but there must be a reason.”

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And that’s it. I felt really weird writing this, like it’s a memory that doesn’t make sense? I hope you all liked this, or at least found it interesting. I might look at doing more writing like this at some point, so let me know if that’s something you’d like to see. As always you can hit me up at the links at the bottom of the page, and if you want to see some more of my writing you can check out my Letterboxd - I recently reviewed M3GAN and it seems like I liked it more than a lot of people! 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Thanks so much for reading, everyone. I’ll talk to you all again soon.

Ka kite anō au i a koe. 💚

Links! | Twitter | Mastodon | Cohost | Substack | itch.io | Letterboxd | Instagram | Carrd | Email

[dadhaver]

It’s time to strike, ladies!

ATTENTION USA RESIDENTS: Do you want to support abortion rights but don’t know how?

I’m calling for a total stop to supporting the economy. I cannot afford to lose my job and strike, but I can opt out of supporting the economy they want to sacrifice us all for.

Whether it be covid or abortion, I’m fucking tired of being sacrificed for the economy. If you are also tired of being placed on the sacrificial slab: Please, starting TODAY, MAY 10, DO NOT PURCHASE ANYTHING BUT FOOD AND FUEL.

You can organize in your community via online Buy Nothing or trade groups, by procuring items directly from people and not companies, we can cause mass disruption. A good starting point is facebook marketplace, or facebook groups for your city/town, “Buy Sell Trade” groups have been around forever, and they are your neighbors. Give them the money you would have given to the corporations. If there are none in your area, please try to thrift or lift the products* you need.

* medical products and procedures do not count. Please keep yourselves healthy.

Don’t believe you can make a difference? Remember when the CDC dropped the quarantine time from 10 to 5 days, and told us to come to work but not to go to NYE parties? They’re on the verge of collapse. The economy literally cannot withstand 5 extra days of no productivity. I’d wager it also cannot withstand the loss of our financial backing.

What about rent? Excellent question, if your rent is non negotiable (your state, city, or municipality does not have a current moratorium placed on rent), continue paying if there are no options except being unhoused. But! You can utilize your space to host organizing meetings. Utilize your spare rooms to stock up on goods in case you or your community need them. If you have outdoor space, consider planting a garden to bolster your rations, and to give what excess you have to the community. I don't want to do this alone, how can I get others involved? Please sound off in the tags or replies where you’re located and ORGANIZE within your community. Tell your friends, tell your parents, tell your coworkers. We don’t need the economy, we never did. It's them that require our sacrifice, our bodies, our time, and our capital to continue. If we come together and mutually support each other, we take away their greatest asset. I am in Texas. Please reach out to me specifically if you are also in Texas and need mutual aid.

Okay, I won’t add to the death driven economy, and I told my friends. How else can I get involved? 1.) ORGANIZE. Talk to people in your community, go downtown and place stickers, flyers, banners, etc with information. Put leaflets wherever you can. Most importantly, meet and plan action with those in your community. We are each other's best natural resource. THE TIME TO COME TOGETHER AND ACT UP IS NOW! 2.) If you have a job and can comfortably strike, STRIKE! 3.) If you have a job and cannot strike, lessen your productivity, talk to your coworkers about your goals if it's safe to do so. Strike info:

4.) Please visit these abortion rights resources and mutual aid resources, they are also posted in my bio. Tumblr can block links in posts. There you will find state by state abortion rights information, funds to donate to, and more about how you can take action now. ***************************************************************** https://href.li/?https://riseup4abortionrights.org/

WE DO NOT CONSENT! WE WILL NOT BE YOUR GROSS DOMESTIC PRODUCT!

[curiouslilbird]

Excellent points so far!

I do want to add first that giving criticism that doesn't shut someone down is difficult without the right wording. I find in my work as a writing tutor that phrasing my criticism as "I wonder..." questions yields better results than saying "You should/shouldn't" statements. Flat statements leave no room for change and close the discussion down; curious questions invite the writer to think differently to answer the reader's question, and in so doing leave room for inspiration, excitement, and motivation.

Secondly, if you have received criticism that feels harsh and has shut you down, you can try phrasing some of the criticisms as questions instead.

Example: I recently received some jarring, judgmental criticism from a friend who's never done that to me before (they were in a really bad headspace when they replied)--it went something like this:

Them: "I don't like what you're doing with [main character.] if you keep doing it like this, people are going to compare [character] to Hitler."

Me: *🤯 actually not sure what I said but it was something straight out of the fawn and freeze trauma response*

This took me a few months to work through; I grieved that my friend had spoken to me like that, and it made me look at my work with revulsion because someone I trusted had so gravely misinterpreted it. I actually also avoided interacting with the friend for this period of time because I did not want to have an angry confrontation and wreck things further. But slowly (very!! slowly!!), I began to ask a question about this feedback in my mind:

"What character actions could my friend have possibly construed as 'Hitler-esque'?"

This curious question let me look at my work without immediately cancel-culturing it in my head. Examining the character actions like this, I found that there was nothing concerning in the dialogue or descriptions, BUT there were some notes I had written in a separate document about the end goals for the book series, in which I noted that the main character's future goal would be to bring various people groups together. This was the only point that even remotely smelled of politics.

Though I still believe my friend's negative headspace led them to overstate the problem, I was finally able to turn their feedback into something I could work with. In the end, I scrapped that one future goal without losing anything vital from the series, AND I have begun to write again after almost half a year of not being able to even open the file. 🙌

I hope this helps fellow writers (and beta readers too)--criticism can lead to grief pretty quick, but there is hope!

Please ignore this if it breaks the guidelines I don’t think it does but jic

So a few months ago, I sent a story that i was proud of to my friend for them to read, and I ended up getting some really harsh yet honest criticism for the story which makes sense since my writing isn’t rhe best, but now it’s made me feel so awful about writing again that I can’t get over my fear of writing poorly anymore and I’m not sure what to do

I'm so sorry this happened. I'm not convinced your friend necessarily had bad intentions, but in situations like these, it's a good idea to clarify what kind of response you want. Because whether you're looking for criticism or encouragement is important, just like it's important to know whether a person who's venting to you is looking for advice or validation. So I'd take this as a sign that communicating your needs in vulnerable situations is important and that the response shouldn't be left to chance alone ❤️

[hardlyinteresting]

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part I/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm currently going through a Harry Potter fever ('tis the damn season), so I thought I'll write something. I might write more of this story, (maybe turn it into a multipart) we'll see. If you'd like to be tagged in this, let me know.

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I had always supposed that reaching the sixth year at Hogwarts meant subjects would get way more demanding and complex, and I to be proven right, only two weeks in were needed.

Added to the usual difficulties, we would be hosting The Triwizard Tournament. Having the castle be almost twice as crowded as the other years, when all you crave is a quiet spot to study, wasn't ideal.

As I said, the first two weeks were already hard enough.

During the third week though, believe it or not, things got even worse —and our guests hadn't even arrived yet.

The Slytherin common room was quieter than the library these days, that's the sole reason why, at 3:35 pm, my best friend and I were already making our way there.

To our luck, we arrived just in time to see the two redheaded troublemakers par excellence high-fiving each other besides my common room's entrance.

"What on Merlin's beard are you two doing here?!" Both of them jumped at the sight of two Slytherins.

"The question is what are YOU doing here?" One of them questioned back, probably attempting to distract us. "You two should be in the library."

"What did you do?" I squinted my eyes at them and, while one raised his hands in surrender, the other just shrugged.

"Nothing." He motioned at our door nonchalantly. "If you don't believe me, check it yourself."

My friend and I shared a reluctant look, and before I could say anything, she was heading to the door.

"Mathilda wait—" I gasped when she sunk into what appeared to be the stone floor.

"Okay now, I wasn't expecting her to actually do it." When I attempted to step forward, a hand on my forearm prevented me from it.

"Don't step further." He warned. "Just in case."

"I'm not stupid." I hissed before grabbing my wand, which made the tall redhead back off. "Revelio." Slowly, a swamp was revealed to be where the entrance hall to the Slytherin common room was supposed to.

Now that it was visible, both twins hurried to get my friend out of their giant prank.

"Get rid of this." I ordered as they pulled her up, her bottom half covered in mud.

"Pffft... no?" One of them scoffed, walking away from Mathilda and stepping closer to me. "It's a masterpiece. It stays."

"If it stays, I will throw you into your masterpiece." I threatened, putting my wand back in my pocket.

"Oh, I'd love to see you try."

I glared at him, partially because I hated that cocky attitude these two —specially him— always exhibited, but also because I had to look up in order to make eye contact.

"Listen Weasley,"

"It's Fred." Oh what would I give to wipe that stupid grin off his face.

"I don't care." Refusing to step back as he clearly wanted to achieve by towering me, I stepped forward, lightly pushing him back with one hand. "You will remove this from here or I will walk right now to the Potions Classroom and split on you."

The twins seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes only. After a moment of silence, the one with my friend spoke. "We'll get rid of it right now and you won't say anything." I nodded, my eyes still fixed on Fred's. "Just so we're clear, this was not set up for you."

"The next one will be, though." Fred assured me with an almost wicked smile. "I'll make sure you can't use the revelio on it."

"Is that a promise, Weasley?" I asked in an unconsciously defying tone.

"You can be sure of it, Y/l/n."

"It's Y/n." I retorted, mocking him.

"I don't care." I rolled my eyes when he did the same, finally breaking eye contact with him.

"C'mon Thilda," I held out my hand to her "let's see if someone can sneak us into the Ravenclaw common room."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You think Fred meant it?" Mathilda inquired, the worry slipping through her words as she played with her breakfast.

"I doubt so." Angelina, who was sitting in front of us, replied without even looking up from her quidditch history book. "They seem more trouble than they are, really." I scoffed; it was easier for her to say that; she was a Griffindor after all. "Deep down they're nice sort, Y/n. They won't pick up on you for ruining a prank."

"I don't trust them."

"I'm not saying you have to—" Angelina jumped slightly when a wad of paper hit my face.

"You were saying?" I grunted, making eye contact with the red haired boy waving at me from the Griffindor table.

When I opened the wad, it read:

'miss me? —Fred ;)'.

"Look at his smug face." I hissed. "I'm gonna-"

"Ignore him. You're gonna ignore him." Angelina finished, fairly unconcerned. "I assure you he'll get bored in less then two days if he can't get a reaction out of you."

For the sake of having breakfast in peace, I only dedicated him a fake smile and did as my friend said. It seemed to work, until it was time to leave for class.

"We should get moving." Mathilda spoke, putting her plate aside and picking up her things as I did the same.

"I have a free period now." Angelina informed us. "Or as free as it can be. You?"

"Divination. Y/n?"

"Charms— Fuck." I whined as something dawned on me. "Those gits are in my class." I spared them a glare. "If they ruin my favorite subject I'm gonna—" a sudden splash of water on my face left my shirt soaked for at least the next hour. "You got the nerve—!" I yelled at the guy who was already making eye contact with me.

"I do, indeed!" He cut me off, winking at me from across the table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand with a teasing grin dancing on his lips as he asked, "what are you gonna do now, Y/l/n?" His twin brother, though I could only see his back, was clearly not enjoying this behavior.

Mathilda checked my gaze, dreading the worst. "Y/n, don't. You're gonna make Slytherin lose points." She knew the warning wouldn't do much, but at least she had tried.

Angelina, instead of backing our friend and try to calm me down, got up and walked to the table where the Weasleys sat.

FRED'S P.O.V.

"I hope you know you're dead." Angie stood in front of me, before using her book to tap my brother's arm. "George, move."

"What?"

The three of us spared a look at Y/n, who had, ignoring McGonagall yells, stepped over her table to get to us.

"Move. Now."

"Ssshit." My brother moved just in time for Y/n to repeat the same forward move on our table.

It's not as if I didn't have the time to move and run away, she hadn't rushed; on the contrary, she walked calmed and composed, and still I did not move an inch.

I guess a part of me wanted to know what she'd do to me.

"Look at you." I began to wind her up again when she climbed off the table on my side, sitting down on its surface with her shoes over the bench. "Doing the impossible to be near me, how romant—"

My sentence died off abruptly as a handful of scrambled eggs was mashed against my face.

I heard a burst of laughs around me. "Blimey! I'm sorry, Fred," she feigned worry, smearing what I assumed were the remaining rests of my breakfast all over my chest. "I hope you're not late to Charms because of this." She whispered near my ear, making a shiver go down my spine when her breath hit my neck. "See you there, yeah?"

Her hand squeezed my shoulder and her fingers ran over my shoulder blades as she walked away.

I felt a napkin placed in my hand and I was quick to remove as much scrambled eggs as possible from my face, just in time to see Y/n exiting the Great Hall with McGonagall jogging after her.

"You know?" Lee asked, drawing my attention. "Picking up on the girl you fancy is kind of a toddler strategy."

"Yeah, Fred," my brother agreed. "you're not an eighth year-old anymore."

"And you chose the wrong girl to nag" Angie added," if you keep it up, she will surely kill you." She held back a teasing smile. "And you should be careful" she nudged George. "I don't think she can tell you both apart, you can end up as collateral damage."

"But you wouldn't let that happen, would you?" I rolled my eyes when George scooted closer to our quidditch chaser.

"Depends on how annoying you are." She faked indifference as my brother searched for her eyes.

"I don't fancy her." I not-so-randomly stated. "But I can't stop pranking her now that she ruined my breakfast."

"You can and you will, Weasley." I jolted at McGonagall's voice behind me. "Twenty points from Gryffindor." At least I'm not grounded, I thought. "And you're grounded for the rest of the week."

"But Y/n— Ouch!" my brother kicked me under the table so I would shut it.

"Y/l/n has received her fair share of punishment, too, Weasley." The professor gave me a poorly masked, disgusted look. "Go and..." She waved her hand "Clean yourself up, Y/l/n will inform professor Flitwick about this incident. And Weasley," She stared at my brother. "Aren't you supposed to be heading to Charms too?"

"Yes ma'am." He replied, throwing everything into his bag, getting up and rushing out of there, not before grabbing his robe.

"The day's promising." I groaned, handing my things over to Angelina so I could go to the bathroom.

"You made the day promising by messing with a Slytherin, you twit." She pointed out, putting my things over hers. "Now go clean those eggs from your shirt."

"Aye, mother!" I headed off before Angie could add anything else to the conversation, loosening my tie as I moved forward.

As I cleaned off everything I could in the nearest bathroom, a random thought slipped into my mind.

Had Y/n been punished too? And if so, would we fullfil the punishment together? It seemed logical that if one of us got grounded, the other one would get grounded too; consequently, it would only make sense for us to—

Shut it. I mumbled to my own mind.

I didn't care. I did not care if she was punished or not. It was none of my business.

I don't fancy her, I thought to myself once again.

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ BLACK JACKET WITH WHITE LETTERS ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Would I be able to request prompt 16 “You're mine. I don't share”. With Hank voight where they go to one of those police events and she works in his unit and they are a couple with her being younger and they dont have to be in police uniform so she wears a really nice dress and as he introduces her and talks to other people he knows, some of the men check her out and try flirt with her and he notices. Could there be a bit of smut if not that's cool to ❤❤

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 3k.

❚❙ Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall @tclaerh. Hank Voight tag list: @sophie-writes. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send my a message! ⚡

Fortunately, it's been a quiet day, otherwise, you couldn't deal with a Districts event like the Commanders call them. A meeting that reunites every officer, inspector, detective, and whoever who wears ‘the blue uniform’; including special agents from the FBI. These last ones are the kind of man who pushes you out of your good mood with all that quackery about serving the whole country, the unlimited resources, the missions. Every time you hear a fed talking about how passionate and exciting their jobs are, you just want to punch their faces. Mostly, they're behind a desk while cops like you are protecting the streets of Chicago in the firing line. But, as Burgess and Upton said, it's time to have some fun. And anything else.

Since you don't have to wear that horrible uniform you use at official events, you have chosen a breathtaking black silk dress that fits your anatomy to perfection, falling from your chest, with a spaghetti strap neckline, to your ankles. And a pair of skyscraper highlights on the same color, with the small difference that the heels are tremendously golden. Your back is almost bare, being crossed by four fine strips, knowing it's going to give Hank some trouble. Oh, you're going to have so much fun tonight. You are very sure.

The soft make-up delights your cute, but lethal, outfit on point ready to leave Kim's house accompanied by your friends. You've arranged to meet at the party with the rest of the Unit since your future husband and Antonio needed to be from the start of the event, which means the three of you are going to earn more than some gazes by assisting alone, with no male figures by your sides. As if you need some kind of protection. Men (...).

Stepping out from your car and giving the keys to the parking attendant, who seems he's having a heart attack after watching you walk with so much cockiness and sensuality, you come into the party. The look you exchange with Kim and Hailey as soon as you check the reaction of the assistants, makes you draw a triumphant smile while raising your chin in some kind of greeting. You aren't going to stop now, leading your steps straight to your partners. Ruzek chokes on champagne with his eyes over Burgess, while Hank looks at you over the edge of his glass of bourbon taking a sip.

“You should work like that every day”. Antonio opines welcoming the three of you in his arms.

“I second that, brother”. Jay quickly adds making a toast with his cup of red wine.

“Bet you'd be the one who wouldn't work”. Hailey replies palming his chest, making you giggle.

In the meantime they continue arguing about the dress code, a strong arm gets placed around your lower back to push you somewhat closer, letting his hand fall over your hipbone. You know exactly what it means. Hank isn't the kind of jealous man, who needs to mark his territory like a dog. But you know that sometimes he feels insecure because of the age gap. He trusts you blindly, that's a fact, but he's human; he has fears and you understand it. Putting your left hand on the back of his neck, you caress his scalp almost unnoticeably, tilting your head to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek earning a satisfied grin from him.

“You look really beautiful tonight”. He whispers, watching you sideways as if it's a secret between you two.

“Thank you, Sergeant. I always try to do my best”.

Hank chuckles against his glass about to have a last sip till emptying it. Taking it from his hand, you pull yourself away to go to the bar and ask for two more drinks. You're thirsty and too sober to be a Friday night. Checking some emails on your phone while the bartender serves your order, you can't help but listen to some backtalk about your career. A couple of suited men combed as politicians and wrapped on a strong scent that throws your stomach. You try to ignore them until they're close enough from your position to offer you a hand in a formal greeting.

“Johnson and Derrick. FBI”.

The blonde one looks like a senior official, while the other looks like a newbie. Turning towards both, you come into the forced polite mood to stretch his hand firmly.

“(Y/L/N), Intelligence Unit, gentlemen. A pleasure”.

“The pleasure is ours, detective”.

“Special agent”. You correct him inevitably, even if it sounds arrogant.

“Special agent, of course”. Johnson replies with a nod of his chin. “I've read your file lately. I have no words to describe it. Graduated with excellent grades in Yale, two years in the Army, another undercover in a Cartel… And you also know how to fly a helicopter”.

“If you weren't from the FBI, I could think you've been stalking me like one of your serial killers, sir”. The sarcasm in your tone of voice earns your Unit's attention, very focused on the conversation between the feds and you.

“Who catches a monster without becoming one, right?”

The man introduces a hand under his jacket to offer you his business card. But you don't take it, just looking at it for a second before raising your eyes towards his.

“In your academy shows you to have the big balls to disrespect a Sergeant or a Chief, by trying to steal their officers in front of their faces? Because mine shows us to serve and protect the citizens”.

His gesture changes suddenly in a sight, hearing some chuckles behind you coming from Hailey and Kim. Raising both eyebrows as you don't get any reply back, you just nod before grabbing the two drinks you have asked for when they interrupted you. Coming back to your friends, you can't help but wrinkle your nose in a gesture of disgust earning more giggles from your partners. But it doesn't seem funny for Hank, who you know he's killing them in thousands of ways inside his head.

As the night passes, you notice Agent Johnson's eyes on you with no shame, starting to make you feel uncomfortable. Although you would be delighted to embarrass him in front of everyone, he has had enough from you. But this doesn't end there. Excusing yourself, you step to the terrace almost emptied to have some fresh air, knowing he's going to follow you. Maybe, to insist a little more. He was so interested in recruiting you to miss the chance.

And as you thought, he's that predictable. You don't turn because of his steps coming closer, but because he pretends to clear his throat to claim your attention. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to a side feigning curiosity with a forced smile showing up on your lips.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior. In my profession isn't habitual to find agents of your characteristics”.

“For sure, sir. It doesn't matter”.

“You could have an extraordinary career in the FBI”.

“I already have it where I am. I don't need schedules, cheap suits, and an earpiece to succeed”.

“I understand your relationship interferes in your decision, but you do—”.

“I'm sorry, you said what? Did you…? Oh, god, I can't fucking believe it”. You can't help but laugh shaking your head. “I don't have any relationship as soon as I wear my badge, sir. And you are starting to cross a line you don't want to cross. Believe me”.

“Ma'am, don't misunderstand my words, nor my intentions. I just think ma—”.

“Nobody asked you to think, Johnson”.

Raising your eyes over his shoulders, you can see your boyfriend sipping his glass of whisky, joining the talk as he tries to keep calm. You know Hank to perfection. If he wasn't your boss, he would have punched him already.

“If you continue pissing off my agent, we're gonna have a problem”.

The man just nods, alternating his gaze between the two of you. Seems that he has admitted his defeat.

“Beautiful and lethal. You're a son of a bitch with so much luck, Voight. Take care of this diamond. Or she will end up wearing a blue jacket with yellow letters”.

“Uh-huh”. He replies as you continue remaining silent.

Passing your boss away back to the party, leaving you alone, you can't hide the proud smile that turns your gesture into a funnier one. Taking short steps towards him, you steal the glass from his hand to drink from it under his attentive brown eyes.

“Blue isn't my color. Not at all. I'm more into black”. You whisper referring to the jackets you are used to wearing in the Chicago department.

“Hm…”

“Imagine having your badge hanging from your neck all day like a collar. Do I look like a dog? I prefer to have it on my belt. And I'm already used to the disgusting watered coffee we make in the twenty-one”. As you continue giving him more reasons, your forefinger traces a path up from his chest to his nape. “And I have so much fun driving my Dodge all around Chicago”.

“Anything else you wanna add?”

“Hm… no. Actually, not. That's all, sir”. You reply puckering your lips, pulling yourself away some inches with a playful aura wrapping you both.

“Now lemme tell you something here”. Hank says then, leaning over your ear. “You're mine, I don't share”.

His voice and his characteristic raspy voice gives you some chills down your spine bone. Biting your bottom lip unconsciously while he stands up, you know the party is over for you and it's time to go home. Holding your hand and taking back his glass of whisky, you walk inside to say your goodbyes before leaving the fancy place straight to the underground parking. You are not going to lie saying you don't love his dominant mood when the occasion demands it.

As soon as you reach your car, you can notice sideways Hank making sure you're totally alone. He doesn't usually take risks of being seen in public too lovey-dovey, but it's not about it this time and you can't wait for him to go ahead with his intentions. Of course, he doesn't make you wait for too long to push your back to the copilot door, attacking your neck in the meantime his hands grab your hips stealing you a low gasp. Hank makes himself between your legs, urging you to surround his waist with one of them to close the distance that separates you, feeling the need he has to mark his territory, as rarely he shows.

“Take me home”. You almost beg closing your eyes as his teeth are nailed on your most sensitive spot, earning a soft grunt that vibrates your body.

“I'm gonna take you here, sweetheart. Any problem?”

“Hell, no, sergeant”.

“Get in the car. Now”.

You don't complain, taking it as an order when he takes two steps back releasing your body and opening the back door for you. And the next minute passes too fast, rolling up your dress as Hank undoes his belt and unzips his pants. In just a sigh he's deep-buried between your legs. It's the first time you take this kind of risk, almost in public, and the horniness it produces is driving you crazy. With your lips almost touching the others, you moan uninhibited every time his hands on your lower back urge you to keep swinging your hips, sitting on his lap.

The way his eyes memorize every gesture drawn on your face has you breathless. It's a sensation you can't describe. Hank has some kind of power over you that you haven't experienced before, even if you think you're indomitable he always manages to make whatever he wants with you. And you know it. You let him do it. Just like right now, marking his territory with desirous bites and wet kisses all around your exposed throat. The most visible part of your body. He doesn't need to prove anything. He isn't the kind of man who needs to call out any other man who dares to lay his eyes on you. Everybody in this damn city knows you're more than his pupil and they're too scared to say hi, although there's always an exception to the rule. In this case, the FBI agents acting like carrion birds.

The mist clouds the windows, as the heat concentrated on your bodies makes you sweat slightly. Hank takes the control turning you under his body against the seat in a position that puts you to see the stars. Every move of his pelvis is accurate, hitting your g-spot, satisfied with how good his name sounds getting drowned between pleased moans once and again. With every push to your body, his dick is dug deeper through your tight wetness making him grunt into your ear, feeling more delighted than never before. And everything is because of the way you had to reply to that FBI agent in front of everyone, showing him how clear you have your preferences; not only because of your relationship, as Johnson pointed out. But because everybody in Chicago is aware that there's no better boss in law enforcement. There's no better Unit than the Intelligence one from the police department of your hometown.

As your legs get wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, one of his arms surrounds your middle back while his free hand flies straight to your throat. Keeping your eyes closed, the suffocating sensation within your lower belly continues growing with every thrust that steals the air from your lungs and races your heart over its possibilities. You're close. So close that your mind is a total blank, just focused on the way only he can make you feel. So good, so desired, so full of life. He knows it, he takes it in advantage. And he enjoys it more than anything.

“Oh, fuck…” Hank got you almost in tears because of the pleasure, traveling your hands to the back of his neck, nailing your nails there. “God… I'm gonna… Fuck, Hank, don't stop, please… Don't stop”.

“I won't, my love… Not till you give me what I want”.

His voice always plays dirty with your mind. The way he has to drag every syllable on his tongue with that husky voice that puts you to tremble, as he continues burying his hard dick inside you with no mercy, speeding up as soon as he feels your legs clung to his body slightly shaking. Because of the fewer insecurities he has about your relationship, he feels proud whenever he makes you reach that sweet sensation of the orgasm taking control of your anatomy. He doesn't care if he has to use his hands, his tongue… whatever. It's not only about sex between the two of you, of course not. But making you cum screaming out his name is an every-day-goal.

And you don't make him wait for too long, arching your back when a lash of heat hits your spine and the grenade inside your lower belly explodes. Your gasps fill up your car, while he continues fucking you harder than seconds before not showing any compassion to your exhausted body, looking for your lips to devours them desperately. His tongue starts a fight for dominance, winning over yours like every single time, in the meantime his fingers grips tightly your throat. Instinctively, you swing your hips in sync, provoking every move to go deeper among your shaky legs.

Hank can't hold it anymore, digging his cock to the limits of your guts, almost hitting your soul with a last strong lung. His warm seed fills you up completely, keeping pushing his body against yours, pressing both to the seat with his hands now placed on the headrest. It feels like a whole set of fireworks. Your moans complement his delighted growls to perfection.

“Don't move, please”. You beg with a thin voice thread, at the same time he rests his forehead on yours.

The two of you can barely breathe, trying to recover after an intense session of your favorite cardio workout. From nowhere, you can't help but giggle in unison. You can't believe you just fucked inside your car and with the risk of being caught in the act. A sergeant and one of his special agents. Even if it's your free night and you're in an established relationship, he's still your boss.

“I would miss working with you”.

“Huh?”

“If I get the FBI's offer”. You mumble, leaving clumsy kisses all around his face. “You're the best cop Chicago has”.

“You don't have to butter me up for a second round”.

Shaking your head briefly and laughing, you caress his scalp so gently as he sinks his face into your sweaty neck.

“Now you said so… maybe I have the fantasy of being bent over your desk”.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, just… maybe”.

“Then maybe I could bring you to my office, before going home. There's some paperwork to attend to”.

[il3x]

Ohhh, this is good!!

I think I have that connecting thread. The teacher could have an Architect Tinker trigger - someone whose own school experience was traumatising (maybe they were poor, or disabled, or any one of various groups that the school system is basically designed to screw over) and goes into teaching to change things, but the system blocks them at every turn. There's potential for a Changer trigger around becoming what you sought to destroy, but I lean more towards powerlessness. They're still stuck in a rigid, hierarchical environment, suffering mistreatment from their superiors, and unable to prevent their students from suffering like they did. Trigger when they try to help the Schemer and the Desperate, and fail spectacularly.

That also works as a catalyst for Desperate + Schemer, but it's hard to tie the Empty into this. Pity, since I like their trigger. I actually had something similar in mind when I made the first post lol - character with encroaching depression convinces themselves that the reason they feel unfulfilled is because their academic performance is imperfect, devotes themself wholly to becoming valedictorian while the rest of their life gets abandoned. They succeed, they're up on stage with everything they ever wanted, and all they can feel is emptiness. Lose hope for recovery, trigger. I was thinking to tie that in with a competitor for the valedictorian position, someone with intense familial or social pressures to excel in academics. Idk.

Anyways, powers! I've been rotating these in my head since I saw your reply this morning, and my top ideas are:

Teacher - Architect Tinker, tech that alters itself autonomously. This loosely fits the trigger themes of chafing against a rigid system, and well-intentioned actions that spiral out of control... but mostly, I just think it's cool. Picture a giant tank or mecha that cannibalises surrounding material to upgrade itself... you prep for a mission and then NOOO your tank has decided to become a crane and you can't use it until it's finished... fall asleep too close to it and wake up to it Eating You... have to destroy all your creations before they become unstoppable, because in theory, they could subsume the earth... H.oughh. it's just Very Cool i think >:)

The "autonomous alteration" would be preserved for secondaries, not the architect aspect.

The Schemer would definitely get a Tinker-Mover permutation, the Empty might get the ability to modify existing tech but not make anything themselves... The Desperate feels like they're destined for a Tinker primary too (hello, my penchant for Tinker-Tinker clusters), so this'll probably augment that. Maybe they appear to be a dual specialisation Tinker because of their two powers.

The Schemer - Mover, with some Shaker/Stranger flair. Desperate wish to get away, with secondary elements of a hostile environment and negative attention (from parents, maybe from peers if they trigger publicly at a graduation ceremony). The example I thought of to explain how these might fit together was "teleportation that leaves sense-scrambling fog behind". I'm not attached to that specific power, but taking it as an example...

I like the idea of splitting up the Mover and Shaker/Stranger aspects in the secondaries. I don't see the Empty as having Shaker or Stranger powers, but a Mover secondary focused on anchoring (anchoring to a set point, kinda like Rain, or maybe teleporting back to previously placed mark(s)) might fit. Stuck in the past and all. For the Desperate, a pure Stranger ability to mask weakness or injury would have some nice power irony from the "invisible disability" angle. The teacher might get Mover, momentum transfer between themself and others.

The others: idk (yet). Well... as previously stated, the Desperate feels like a Tinker of some description. The Empty is giving Breaker or Changer - more Changer the way you described, more Breaker in my old concept.

Feel free to add on, nix stuff that you think doesn't work, and generally workshop this concept!

deep sigh... High School Graduation Cluster Trigger is an incredibly compelling idea, but I'll never be able to follow through because getting into the headspace of anyone involved would probably make me throw up.

[phoenixdnasty]

The Problem with Season Five

this is already going to have a lot of you in the replies yelling at me. obviously, massive SPOILERS for s5 of she ra and the princesses of power if you haven't already seen it.

okay, so She Ra is definitely a kids' show, but it has a lot of themes aimed towards an older audience: abuse, war, found family, destiny and knowing who you are. I loved She Ra because it made me feel empowered, made me feel seen. after this last season, however, I don't feel the same. I will, however, talk about what it did well.

What She-Ra s5 did RIGHT

I very much enjoyed seeing the character development for most characters come to the forefront here. For example, SW returned to her original motivations. When she lived in Mystacor with the other sorcerers, her thirst for power was borne of a desire to fight the Horde. When she was rejected, then she chose to do what she did. We see a return to that in s5, where she takes a stand against Prime by enlisting Castaspella to stop her if she tries to take any power for herself. She ends up just wanting to help, to do what she can, which was excellent. Glimmer, Bow and a bunch of other characters are given some love here as well. I especially enjoyed seeing Bow and Mermista take on leadership positions in the absence of Adora; it was an excellent look into another facet of their personalities.

Character interactions in non-serious moments were, for the most part, good. Swift Wind and Scorpia being bros was not something I knew I needed but something I want more of. Netossa basically being Batman and knowing the weaknesses of everyone around her was great and an iconic scene. Bow thinking Catra was super adorable was also an excellent moment in the season and I could watch 9 more seasons worth of that. Something that surprised me was Entrapta's "not good with people"-ness being talked about and addressed by the other characters and explained by her; I wasn't sure if that was ever gonna be talked about in the show.

Side note: thank you Crew-Ra for giving Scorpia her own musical number, it was great.

Prime was also a fascinating enemy. He's this sort of religious figure, this world destroyer who's been around for seemingly centuries, maybe much longer. He's cold, calm and calculated. I've seen it pointed out that he's everything Hordak is not. He's manipulative, knows body language and facial expressions, and has a perfect grasp on how to get exactly what we wants. My favorite aspect of this season was the hive mind control. This was a very interesting plotline to me, and I thoroughly enjoyed HiveMind!Catra as well as Wrong Hordak. I loved the idea of pitting allies against each other and the angst and emotional weight that carried.

Going to use that point to segue into one of this season's strengths: Netossa and Spinnerella. Wow! We get a chance to see what a healthy queer/wlw relationship looks like, and two background characters get major upgrades in relevance. Two diversity points for one being a big girl and for the couple being interracial (in our world anyway), but diversity is the norm is SPOP and we might have to stan forever. It was extremely heartwarming and resulted in one of my favorite scenes to ever show up in animated media (one which I'll be stealing to add to my vows if I ever get married):

It was beautiful and I will absolutely never shut up about it.

There were some beautiful moments this season!! Absolutely gorgeous. A highlight for me cinematically was episode 5, which will probably bother some people when I say what I will below. I will be honest, the new transformation sequence and the scene of Adora holding Catra as She-Ra was powerful and had my heart pounding with excitement. It was awesome.

On the other hand...

What She-Ra s5 did WRONG

I'm going to break my issues with the final season down one by one, starting with the narrative of abuse.

From the very beginning, abuse is the most prevalent theme in the show. Prime (HP) abuses Hordak, Hordak abuses SW, SW abuses both Adora and Catra, and Catra abuses Adora. I liked the Crew-Ra tackling this issue. Abused people abuse people, right?

Why was everyone redeemed in s5? (Well, except for Prime, he was blasted away by She-Ra.) Hordak was given a blank slate to start over, even though he was the reason Etheria was war torn for at least a few decades; SW was given a hero's sacrifice, where at the end of her life she finally decides to do some good; and Catra is immediately forgiven for doing one good thing and all trust in placed in her simultaneously.

Hordak and H. Prime as abusers are pretty cut and dry; at no point are they ever remorseful for their actions, except for Hordak in the case of being abusive to Entrapta. SW is much more of an interesting character to analyze, because her motivations are geared directly towards herself. This seems to change in the final season, when she returns to her original motivations from back when she was in Mystacor. Defending her home. In her pursuit of the power needed to defend Etheria from the Horde, she fell into darkness. She began to abuse Adora and Catra.

One could argue that the hero's sacrifice she was given for redemption was unneeded. SW was an individual addicted to power. She was manipulative, using fake affection as a means to control. She didn't deserve a redemption. The only evidence we have of this supposed change of heart is a line to Castaspella: "...and stop me if I try to take the power for myself." Okay... so, SW, um... what changed your mind? Was it Micah? Because at no point has he forgiven you. In fact, there should've been much more hostility between the two of you (which is a point I'll address in a moment). In all honesty, the relationship between SW and Micah reminds me of what should've happened between Catra and Glimmer, or Catra and Scorpia.

And Catra... My problem with her story is that she was kinda just... forgiven? instantly. no repercussions, no long talks about feelings, no... consequences. Catra got the girl and that was it. A small list of things she did over 4 seasons, in no certain order:

Scratched what was implied were scarring marks down Adora's back

Was the cause of Angella's "death" #angelladeservedbetter

Kidnapped both Glimmer and Bow

Opened a world-ending portal all to ensure Adora failed

Also pushed Adora into what looked like an abyss

Verbally abused Scorpia into leaving

Wanted to pit Corrupted!She-Ra against her friends (dehumanization)

Got Entrapta sent to Beast Island, a deadly place no one ever returns from

And this is just the stuff off the top of my head. We all knew Catra was going to get a redemption, but this one was completely undeserved. She apologized to Adora and Entrapta. Two very short apologies for what canonly was at minimum, months of abuse, manipulation, intent to kill (which is literally mentioned by Adora) and general disregard for anyone or anything but revenge for something that didn't even deserve it. The entire cast should've been outraged. Glimmer in particular had a very big reason not to ever forgive Catra ("I'm not losing another parent!"), but it was all glossed over.

The biggest issue with season 5 was the abuse plotline completely dropped. You can't spend 4 seasons explaining how the cycle of abuse affects you and everyone around you... and shelve it. And we know the reason why it was shelved.

Let me first preface this with the fact that I am super happy we got representation. As a queer nblw who grew up feeling alone, it's so good to see things changing in media. An onscreen wlw kiss on a kids' show is groundbreaking and I'm very happy that She-Ra broke this barrier.

But all representation is not good representation. Catra and Adora is not a good representation of a healthy relationship.

Catra is shown throughout the series to be very unstable. This is even prevalent in season 5, when Adora "chooses SW" over Catra, she runs away. This breaks Adora's heart. The last thing that Catra needs is a relationship when she hasn't even confronted the issues that she has. There's no healing done in season 5, no therapy as the fandom loved to meme about, no long talks about forgiveness and the hurt caused. There's no callback to any of the pain and anguish that Catra put Adora through. Catra may love Adora, but if there is no healing done for the both of them, their relationship will fail. They will fall into the same cycle again. Adora will do something Catra doesn't like, Catra will do what she's done for all of the show, and it will repeat until something breaks.

I'm going to talk about the implications of the ending we have now, and feel free to argue with me.

She-Ra is a kids' show. Abuse is one of the main themes. Catra is shown to be an abuser. Here's what we are teaching younger audiences:

a. if you love someone enough, maybe they'll change

b. everyone deserves a second chance

c. your abuser will change as long as you're loyal and never stop trying to love them

d. things someone does to hurt you mean nothing in the wake of forgiveness

e. if someone who hurt you changes suddenly and wants to be back in your life, you should let them back in

Character interactions for the things that mattered (plot threads from previous seasons, general personality clashes, etc) were absent this season, in the moments where they mattered the most. (The best three in my opinion were Scorpia and Perfuma, the BFS inviting Catra in, and Mermista and Entrapta.) Glimmer and Adora should've had their time to talk. Scorpia should've gotten to say her piece to Catra. SW and Micah should've interacted more. Micah and Glimmer should've gotten more than an introduction!

I'm not going to get into how the entire final season was wrapped around making Catra and Adora get together (a fundamental writing no-no; it never ends up working), or how it was bad writing. I just want everyone to think critically for one moment. There are so many other glaring issues in what was, overall, a stellar show. If there was another season, or some mini episodes where the characters talk out their problems and past transgressions against each other, then I could excuse She-Ra. But I doubt we're going to get any of that. So I won't.