#anyway. look at me being mildly intelligent

[six-of-ravens]

things i have learned:

unless I cancel or change my netflix package, I've been grandfathered in at my current rate (the ~$12 "basic" package they got rid of earlier this year) so my rate won't change and i won't need to watch ads (whew! i was worried they'd automatically bump me up to the $17 one)

disney+ yearly fees are pretty much the same as last year

prime yearly subscription is CHEAPER than last year (i think it's giving me some sort of discount but it doesn't say, maybe if you're renewing it's just lower than a new subscription?)

still butthurt that spotify and netflix don't do yearly billing tho, I hate having little tiny micro-bills that pile up

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

[suzukiblu]

An excerpt of morally-ambiguous-dad!Lex for @robotogato to hopefully enjoy, haha.

"Clones really don't get soulmarks, though," Kon says in frustration. "It doesn't even make sense that I'd have one."

"Well, I suppose there's the possibility that I just want you so badly that it happened anyway," Lex Luthor muses idly. "A Luthor doesn't generally accept being denied what they want."

"Very fucking funny," Kon mutters, shooting him a glower. "I'm being serious here, asshole."

"Hm," Lex Luthor observes, inspecting him neutrally. "Not even a moment where you let yourself want to believe that, was there."

"Why would I wanna believe that a bastard like you wanted me?" Kon sneers at him.

"Because I am the only person in the multiverse who would burn down reality for you without hesitation," Lex Luthor says like he's talking about the weather or something. Like he's just stating a totally inconsequential fact or reiterating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

Like there's no question there at all.

"I hope you fucking die and I hope it fucking hurts," Kon hisses as the whole world seems to bleed red, just about choking on his fury.

"Well, it will if you don't close your eyes," Lex Luthor says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Quickly, ideally."

"Wh–" Kon is almost stupid enough to ask, and then he realizes and immediately screws his eyes shut, snapping his hands up over his face just in case.

His eye sockets feel like they're on fire.

"Ah, I suppose I live another day," Lex Luthor says. "Rage and anger are notable triggers for the heat vision, if you're still unfamiliar. And apparently arousal as well, although I have very definitely never encountered that version so I can't say if it's more or less potent than rage."

"How do you even know about it, then?" Kon asks, hating that he can't trust himself to look at the bastard without killing him. Lex Luthor could be doing any stupid fucked-up thing right now and he'd have no fucking clue.

"I am a very intelligent person who can afford very good information," Lex Luthor says. "And I am also more intimately familiar with Kryptonian DNA than quite possibly anyone else on this planet, Superman included."

"Superman has Kryptonian DNA," Kon retorts dubiously.

"He does," Lex Luthor agrees. "His special little gift from dumb luck and blind chance. Some of us actually had to put in a bit of effort to get that kind of power, though."

"You don't have that kind of power," Kon says. "You have money and the fucking bullshit fear that you put into people."

"Ah, but I have you now," Lex Luthor counters mildly. "Now don't I."

"You don't," Kon snaps.

"Oh, give it sixteen years or so," Lex Luthor says, making a dismissive gesture as Kon's eyes finally stop burning long enough for him to risk a glare at him. "Your full powerset should be in by then, and I imagine I'll have had a bit of time to change your mind somewhere in there."

"I don't care what whatever custody law bullshit says about it, I'm not gonna stay with you," Kon says tightly. "Sure as shit not for the next sixteen years!"

"Oh?" Lex Luthor asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Then where exactly are you intending to go long-term? Just planning to stay in a lab for the rest of your life?"

"Why the fuck not?" Kon says in exasperation.

Lex Luthor's eyes narrow.

"Oh," he says like a realization. "Someone's actually made you assume that you belong in a lab, haven't they."

"Yeah, I can't think of a single unrepentant bastard who might've had a hand in me belonging in one of those," Kon bites off darkly. "Real fucking mystery there, huh."

"Hm," Lex Luthor says.

[felikatze]

FE brainrot continues. Based on base Keaton's battle artwork in FEH, which made me realize what a babygirl pose that truly is. Okuma Yugo drew both base Keaton and Halloween Dogboy Grima, which automatically makes him my hero forever.

Anyway. Wolfskin Isabeau.

This is where I hit you with my FE crossover headcanons.

The two wolfskin characters that exist are, to put it mildly, fucking morons. Both Keaton and his daughter Velouria (the only playable Wolfskin) are well and truly Dogs in personality. They like smelling things and collecting cool looking rocks and bones.

They are both named after fabrics.

I think, beastfolk have it better in a place like Vaugarde. Their ability to shift shapes at will is seen as a boon from the Change God themself. They're admired, nearly holy.

And yet. And yet.

Why do they change shape into... this? Into animals? Are they humans who change into animals, or animals who change into humans? Their abilities are praised in theory, but in practice, anybody's bound to freak out when someone turns into a huge wolf creature in front of them.

There's no real stigma against being beastfolk, but, well, don't show it, will you?

I think, Isabeau keeps his nails short, even though they always grow far too quickly. He smiles with a closed mouth to hide his teeth. His ears are weighed down by earrings, so they wiggle less. There's nothing he can really do about the tail, but people at least find that charming.

He plays into the stereotypes on purpose. Acts like a dog for jokes, to make others laugh. Because a dumb wolfskin is expected. Because a dumb wolfskin is less threatening. Someone with intelligence and cunning, who can also tear you to shreds with their bare hands?

....People don't like that very much.

But Isabeau didn't like being shy and demure, didn't like dancing around what he is. What he's always been. When he Changed, he wanted to be bolder, wanted to be someone who others look up to, confide in - not just something like a cute pet.

It's about confidence, and gender, and all of that, yes. It is also about being honest to the monster inside of you. As the journey progresses, he lets it trickle out, bit by bit. Using claws instead of closed fists. Hitting harder, faster, using his senses to warn others of danger.

Here, this is useful. Once the journey ends, and it stops being useful... Well, he better reign it in, right? But it's exhilirating to be honest to his own capabilities. He doesn't know if he can go back. He doesn't know if he wants to.

Also thinks about. Wolfskin Isabeau within the context of Manakete Siffrin.

Siffrin, who, at first, doesn't even realize he's not human either.

For the first time, there's someone who just... isn't fazed by beastkin at all. Sure, Odile wasn't scared, but she'd never met a wolfskin before and Isabeau had still been a curiosity, comparing to the kitsune Odile knew. Yet Siffrin didn't even seem to know what a beastkin is.

Just utterly at ease, with whatever Isabeau shows them. Of course he'd fall in love.

Of course he'd accept every single monstrous part of Siffrin, too. Whenever Siffrin is just a little too quick, a little too strong, when their long ears flick or his eyes reflect the light oddly - when Isabeau sees that Siffrin could be just like him - yeah, of course he'd fall even harder.

I have more thoughts on how Siffrin would feel on their end (how they feel feral compared to Isabeau, who controls himself with perfect precision, how they feel rabid after being restrained for so long), but this is honestly long enough.

Hi to everyone who clicked that readmore, I hope the length of this jumpscared you. Ask me about my isat/fe AUs. Any of them. Please.

[snnrinc]

Codename: ROOK

Now completed on AO3!

Ch. 1 /11- Outside Contractual Obligations [AO3 Portal]

— PAIRING : Dabi/Touya Todoroki x F!Reader x Hawks/Keigo Takami

— WARNINGS : NSFW (Not in this chapter), Noir AU, No Quirk AU, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M, Drugs Blood and Violence, Crime Scenes, Organized Crime, Murder, Eventual Smut, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Masturbation, Analingus, Mildly Dub-Con, Not Canon Compliant, AFAB reader, She/her pronouns for reader

— SUMMARY : Being a police officer in a city where crime runs high and respect is non existent has got to be one of the shittiest jobs you've ever had. But it pays the bills. However, once you and detective Keigo Takami are assigned a case that deals with the murder of a prolific law enforcer and the subsequent chain of disappearances happening all over Musutafu, you realise that having your bills up to date is most definitely not worth all the danger you're up against. Especially when that danger is named Dabi, one of the most sought after criminals that you've been trying to catch red handed for years. Nonetheless, this is your only opportunity to make your job finally mean something, so you and Keigo decide to go undercover right in the jaws of peril, its razor sharp teeth waiting to bite into your neck like a guillotine. But you won't back out now, will you, officer? Good luck on the job, codename Rook.

— NOTES : This was supposed to be a smutty one shot I have no idea what the fuck happened. It's been gathering dust in my Docs for over a year and yet this is the only chapter I have 💀 I left notes for myself saying "don't go overboard with the plot because the point is for them to FUCK" and now here we are. It definitely worked. For sure... Still hope you enjoy!

“A big-name agent of ours went missing a few months ago. No trace of his whereabouts until a couple weeks ago, when his body was found in the dumpster behind a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Well, parts of it anyway.”

The man in front of you took a final puff from his dying cigarette and promptly extinguished it in the ashtray in front of him, right next to a bowl of sweets with generic labels. He exhaled the smoke in billows and it vanished in the air, lingering with a pungent smell of tobacco and an awful chocolate flavouring. Your nose scrunched up slightly and you resisted the urge to cough.

“We have no evidence left at the crime scene and the body being chopped up makes it near impossible to determine the murder weapon,” he continued. “We have some of our best agents dealing with the autopsy and the case as a whole, but no clear suspects so far.”

“This seems like highly classified information. So why are you telling me this?”

You closed the file you were handed and placed it back on the desk, eyes shifting to detective Enji Todoroki sitting across from you, watching the way his eyebrows dropped down just a little in an expression that seemed to almost be judging your intelligence.

Really, you felt like you should be the one judging here.

To say you were confused would be an understatement. When you were called into Enji's office, you had assumed you did something wrong on the job, since most people in your workplace seemed to overlook you even when it came to small tasks. Sometimes you felt that if you wouldn't turn up to work one day, no one would notice. Usually, you didn't mind — being invisible meant you could do your work in peace without being bothered by unnecessary small talk or the occasional office drama that you sometimes overheard in the break room. You were just an officer, one of the lowest ranks in the force, so the only time you expected any attention was when something went wrong.

When Enji personally came to look for you before you went on patrol for your shift you felt your stomach drop. Yes, the job sucked a good majority of the time, since you noticed you were often not taken seriously by your colleagues, sometimes probably even considered a liability when dealing with more violent cases. But like any other person roaming the earth, you still had rent to pay and food to buy if you wanted to continue existing, and working for the Public Safety Commission ensured you did just that and still had some money left for your more frivolous wants. Straightening your back, you followed Enji to his office, every bad scenario playing in your mind only getting worse when, as soon as you sat down, he dropped a file containing the case details on the desk in front of you, pushing it forward in a silent prompt for you to read it.

And now here you were, bombarded with information about a murder you were pretty sure you were not qualified to deal with, at least judging by your contractual obligations. You had half a mind to ask if you'd be getting paid more if you worked on the case, but you bit your tongue from the overwhelming feeling of uneasiness creeping up your spine.

“Of course, I don't expect you to understand things so quickly.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his comment. “But surely you've gathered by now that you have been assigned as an assistant to this case.”

“That much is obvious,” you couldn't help but retort. “The question is still why?”

“I was meant to be assigned to this case, but the crime rate has spiked in recent months. I have bigger issues to deal with, so the Commission decided that we need someone that can slip under the radar.”

Ah, so they just needed some cannon fodder. Part of you thought you should've expected as much from the Commission.

“I still think I'm terribly underqualified to be working on this case.”

Enji leaned back into his chair, tapping one of his armrests with his index finger. “So do I, but you'll be working under detective Takami.” He heaved a sigh and allowed a sarcastic undertone to lace his voice, “Who should've been here to give you a quick overview of the case progression so far, but who are we to count on his punctuality?”

Wait a second, working under who?

You blinked and did a double take at him, replaying his words in your mind as if trying to dissect their meaning. This was fantastic in the worst possible way. Not only did you practically have a murder case of a prominent agent dropped into your inexperienced and unsuspecting arms, you were now the right hand of the second best detective of the Commission, Keigo Takami.

If only you had these kinds of odds bestowed upon you if you played the lottery, surely you'd have won enough to ditch this job.

You thought back to what Enji had just revealed to you and couldn't shake the feeling that there was a different reason why they would ask an officer to help with this case, other than just “slipping under the radar”. With one of the best detectives taking over, you figured the Commission wouldn't be stupid enough to allow someone like you to get in the way of the investigation.

As the questions multiplied in your mind, your tongue was tied, unable to figure out a way to put your doubts into words, especially since you knew Enji would do nothing to soothe them.

There was a knock on the door breaking your train of thought, before it opened to reveal detective Takami, an easygoing smile etched on his lips, his gloved hands buried inside the pockets of his shearling jacket, with only one coming up to push his aviator sunglasses that were resting on the bridge of his nose to the top of his head.

“Sorry I missed the introductions,” he said, “but I'm sure we weren't called here just to chat.”

“At last you grace us with your presence, detective. A little while longer and our officer here would've taken over the case in your stead.”

You whipped your head towards Enji, almost ready to ask him if he was serious, before you looked back at Keigo to see him meet your gaze.

“I'm Keigo Takami, it's a pleasure to meet you.” He gave you a charming smile and extended his hand for you to shake. You grasped it firmly and introduced yourself. “So, were you one of the first responders at the scene?”

“Actually,” Enji interjected, “the officer is unfamiliar with the case at the moment, save for the basic details.”

“Oh?” Keigo frowned in confusion.

“As of today, this is your new assistant in this case.”

Keigo blinked a few times, then shook his head and huffed a laugh. “I'm sorry. What? An officer? Not that I mean to doubt your judgement or anything, but isn't this case a little too sensitive for an officer to deal with?” He turned towards you. “No offence.”

“None taken, I'm a little confused myself.”

Enji sighed and massaged his temple with one hand before he leaned forward. “You see, your role in this case will be a little more... 'hands-on' than usual. I mentioned we don't have any concrete suspects, but we do have an idea of the organisation that might be responsible for the murder, which is why we need to employ your help for the investigation.”

“I don't see how this is anything new,” Keigo said. “We've been investigating the League for a while, they operate in this area. Tying them to this murder would be the most obvious first step.”

“The League?” you interfered.

Enji raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you familiar with them?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your eyes shifted between the two men watching you. “They've made a name for themselves amongst the police officers. We've been trying to catch a few of them in the act but they always slip away.”

“Unsurprising for the police force,“ Enji scoffed and you frowned. “Let's hope we won't have the same disappointing results in this case. We have no time to waste on pathetic failures.”

Keigo looked at you from the corner of his eye and noticed the way your shoulders tensed up. He leaned over and dug his hand into the bowl of sweets on the desk, effectively catching both of your attentions. With a fistful of candy, he resumed his questions for Enji who was dishing out your responsibilities.

“So is this about the NOMU Program?”

Enji's eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that program? It's classified information, even for you.”

Keigo shrugged and shoved some more candy into his mouth. “If it is about that, I'd argue that's even more reason why we shouldn't drag an officer into this.”

“Sorry,” you interjected. “What is the NOMU Program?”

“Don't concern yourself with things outside of your duties,” Enji snapped.

“Come now, let's be courteous with our colleague,” Keigo said with a light-hearted tone before turning to you. “It's a codename used by the League. We figured it stands for Network of Metahumanoid Units. A fancy name that's probably got to do with their attempts at reanimating corpses.”

Fuck, so now you were dealing with zombies? Sure, technology as a whole was impressive, but it was nowhere near sophisticated enough to bring someone back from the dead. As far as you knew, every attempt to reverse death was futile. So then why would someone bother?

Enji noticed the confusion in your eyes and spoke before you could ask any questions. "They're planning to use them as weapons. Keigo called them corpses because essentially that's what they are: on the brink of brain death.”

“The only reason why they don't collapse is because the League is pumping them full of a drug called Trigger that boosts their baser powers,” Keigo continued, earning an annoyed glare from Enji at how readily he presented the classified information to you. “We've only had a few attacks reported so far, and we weren't sure what exactly we were dealing with, so we had our top agents deployed to deal with them. Which is why the police weren't mobilised.”

“Sounds like a pretty important omission to me,” you countered with a frown. “So is this what we're dealing with here? Drugged up zombies?”

“We're still unsure,” Keigo answered. “If this victim was supposed to be part of the NOMU Program, then we wouldn't have a body cut up into pieces on our hands. Maybe they're trying to send a message.”

“That's where you two come in," Enji announced. "This time, you will not be dealing with any forensic analysis, suspect interrogation or evidence collection. Instead, you two will act as our eyes and ears and infiltrate the League.”

An insurmountable amount of pressure crashed over you and clenched your muscles in a vice grip, to the point where you almost felt as if it would crack your bones at any moment. You tried to control your expression in an attempt to stop your shock from washing over your face, but surely the vein that started throbbing painfully in your temple was enough proof.

“Hold on.” You raised your hand again to signal for Enji to slow down. “You mean to tell me you called me here to act as your spy?”

Enji scowled. “I don't like it either. They shouldn't send a rookie in for such a big case. I should've been the lead, but it wasn't my decision to make, so I suggest you suck it up and do your job.”

Your voice was exasperated, “There are so many ways that this could go wrong if you send me out there! I'd just hold detective Takami back!”

“I have to agree,” Keigo said. “It's best if I work on my own as usual.”

“Well you see, Takami, things are not so easy in this line of work,” Enji snarled, then produced two folders from his briefcase and stood up, handing them to you and Keigo. “Commission's orders and instructions. Read them thoroughly. Good luck with the mission detective, officer.”

And with that, he stepped out of the room and you felt as if all oxygen made an exit along with him, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you could almost hear it through the grave silence that fell over the room as you read the instructions:

“Officer,

As of today you will refer to yourself as Rook and to your mission partner as Hawks. Forget your real name. Return your weapons, badge, uniform and any other equipment that may be in your possession at the reception of the PCS HQ.

While infiltrated do not contact anyone outside including family members, friends, acquaintances and other PSC employees except for your partner.

You will not have any accolades attached to your name. Your achievements will not be disclosed by the PSC if you succeed. You will receive no posthumous awards if you die. This is your duty to fight for the people. Failure to comply could result in dismissal, sanctions and/or prosecution.

Destroy this document after reading.”

This job was so not worth it.

You watched the grainy screen of the tube TV perched in a corner of the office intently, listening to the news broadcasted somberly by the anchor along with your colleagues. Keigo was by your side, expertly twirling a pen in his fingers, but his focus was zeroed in on the screen, his nose and mouth buried in the raised collar of his jacket.

After the discovery of the body of the Commission's agent, the disappearances around Musutafu increased by a concerning margin. What was worse was that not all of them were agents, some were simply civilians that seemingly had powerful or useful builts and abilities, like the person whose face was now on the screen, their name, last known location and clothes they were last seen wearing listed underneath the picture.

You crossed your arms over your chest and frowned. If this was what you were dealing with, even with your training and experience you were unsure how you'd survive as a double agent. You had no special skill, no upper-hand tactic and you couldn't rely on Keigo—Hawks—for fear that you'd hold him back and compromise the mission.

With how they had you bring back anything that would suggest you'd ever had any contact with the Commission, it really seemed as if they were trying to erase any trace of your existence. This job was all you had, all you ever worked for since you were just a bright-eyed trainee at the police academy, ready to take on any danger coming your way if it meant you could save someone else from it.

How naïve.

Maybe you should've just given up when you were still a child, still able to choose a path that would fit you and your capabilities more. The society in which you lived was unforgiving to weak people, so you had to adapt. But women were not always respected in the police force, and those who were got there because of their network rather than their own abilities more often than not. Not to mention that a police officer's chances of advancing without having someone behind them were close to none.

In other words, there was no way out for you. But at least you weren't exactly the perfect catch for whatever the League was planning, by the looks of things.

From the fog of your worries, you felt Hawks tap your shoulder to catch your attention. His collar was now pushed down neatly and you could see the serious way in which his lips were pursed. He gestured with his head for you to follow him and you complied with a nod.

You reached his office, after stopping by your desk to collect the last bits and pieces you had left laying around, and sat down in front of his desk, one hand worriedly rubbing your chin as you looked out the window. His eyes never left you as he sat down and leaned back in his chair, the pen he was playing with earlier still in his hands. He watched carefully as your brows turned downward in a frown that casted a shadow of concern over your eyes, before he put the pen down on the desk, the sound making you turn to look at him.

“I know you're worried,” he started, “but I want you to know I won't let anything happen to you.”

You let your hands fall into your lap. “Please, don't worry about me. I don't want to be a drawback in this mission.”

“You won't be,” he said, but noticed you were unconvinced when the corner of your lip lifted in what was supposed to be a polite smile, but didn't quite reach your eyes. “You graduated as the top eighth trainee in the police academy, surpassing like, what, 22 of your classmates? That's pretty impressive.” You stared at him in a mix of confusion and surprise and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I've read your file. You've got a lot of potential, officer.”

You smiled and nodded as thanks. In the past, this kind of compliment would've left you feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside, feeding into your pride and fuelling your determination to get even better. But now, the comment felt like tossing a coin down an endless pit, nowhere near enough to fill the hollow space in your chest and, despite its value, ultimately useless. When did your outlook on your job get so sour?

Maybe it was when you were put up for disciplinary action after attempting to stop one of your fellow officers from brutalising a murder suspect. Or maybe when you had one case shut down because the culprit was the daughter of an acclaimed attorney that somehow found the perfect team of lawyers to render the evidence null. Or maybe it was simply after you had graduated from the academy and were thrown out into the real world. Any way, perhaps this was the universe's way of making up for all the times it fucked up. By giving you a new opportunity.

You picked up the pen from Hawks's desk and fiddled with it. “Officer, huh? I thought my new name was Rook.”

Hawks chuckled. “They're really terrible at picking codenames, huh? Sounds like we're just two bird enthusiasts with no imagination.”

You chuckled at his comment and after a moment you bent down to rummage through the box in which you had collected your remaining possessions from your desk, pulling out a document. You opened it, quickly finding the file in which you and Hawks took notes about your action plan.

“So,” you started, scrolling through the notes, “you were saying you already have a way to get inside the League?”

Hawks leaned forward on his elbows to get a better look at the notes. “Well, yes and no. Enji didn't tell you this, but remember how I said we've been investigating the League for a while? Well, I've been in contact with one of the members. I managed to get close enough for him to think I'll soon defect and join them.”

“So you've been planning to go undercover for a while now?”

“It's the only way I could squeeze any information out of them. They seem pretty loyal to their cause, so getting one of them to become an informant for the PSC was highly unlikely.”

You nodded in thought. “So who's your contact?”

“A guy named Dabi.”

Your blood ran cold and your eyes shot up to Hawks. You knew that name too well. Not only was he notoriously known among the law enforcement as one of the most dangerous members of the League, but he was the person responsible for numerous counts of arson in your area, courtesy of his pyromaniacal tendencies. You'd been trying to find a way to get closer to catching him for years. Each time, he slipped out of your hands, your attempts always too late or too little.

You knew what Dabi was capable of, and without the comfort of a self defence weapon and protective equipment by your side, you feared you'd be turned to ash before you even tried to get any information out of the League.

You stared through Hawks for a few seconds. His eyes searched your expression as he frowned in confusion at your sudden change. You noticed that and blinked a few times, clearing your throat.

“So this contact is our ticket inside, but how do I get him to trust me? I think I'd be found out before I even get to talk to him.”

“No need to worry, I'll send him your way somehow. You then offer to be their informant. We'll have to act separately to avoid raising suspicion, so if we cross paths, try acting like you don't know me personally.”

You nodded in acknowledgement then remained quiet for a second before frowning in thought.

“I don't understand. If you already have an in, then why would the Commission send me to help?”

Hawks sighed. “You heard what the Commission said, you'll be the bait.” He leaned back in his chair. “The League is reluctant to let me join because I'm a well-known detective. They know who I am and what I do, but they don't know you. If you manage to convince them you're also just a crooked law enforcer, that would be the last step we need to finally get inside.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Hawks regarded you thoughtfully, tilting his head and looking you up and down. His scrutinising eyes seemed to glow as the final rays of dusk poured through the blinds of his office window. Before he even spoke, you knew that his idea would not be to your liking.

“Say, how comfortable are you with flirting?”

[valentine-writes]

Hello!! I absolutely adore your spot HC!

I was wondering if you could write something pre-collider accident? When he was working for alchemax ^^

I would adore more content about him and reader being coworkers, maybe this is way too self indulgent, but I crave some good enemies/rivals to lovers with this man. I think the dynamic would be so fun ^^

competitive

「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, no tws, unedited, rivals to lovers (which i hope i do justice), pre-collider johnathan ohnn, reader and johnathan are petty,,, can u tell i like writing him mildly bitchy, plz forgive any conflicts w/ canon i researched but im like 99.9% sure there r still errors 」

「 gn!reader, romantic relationship <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: ouughh i love this sooo much,,, thank u AUDHEWUFHEW o((>ω< ))o !!! im so excited to write more of pre-collider him,, ignore me as i feverishly research every bit of canon info i can get cuz i haven't been able 2 rewatch the movie yet i hope this is to ur liking! enemies to lovers is not my strong suit,, but OHOUWHUDHEWH RIVALS TO LOVERS!!! UNDERUTILIZED!!! might hafta make a part two tho,,, locked in on the rivals part,,, lovers part in progress. ok no more of my rambles

▸ ever since you had arrived at alchemax, you and johnathan just couldn't seem to get along. not a particularly useful thing, considering you both worked for the same research company where teamwork was vital though, you insisted you had no real spite for him, the second you had gotten the job, you just seemed to one-up him in every single way.

every. single. way.

▸ when given a deadline, you'd finish in half the time it took him. when completing research, you have the information compiled when he was just starting to organize his.

hell, you even succeeded in being more proficient socially. how had you made so many friends already?

▸ he had to admit you were terribly charming too– a trait he was particularly envious of– and from the few times he's seen you get coffee with one or two of the other scientists, he knew that everyone seemed to think the same

not like he was paying that much attention to you as he saw you laughing with another coworker through the cafe window. foam party? sounds boring anyways, whatever

▸ he wasn't mad because he was lonely, or saw himself as inferior to you. johnathan had friends and honestly didn't consider himself particularly bad at making them. johnathan knew he was intelligent and that with his work, he could accomplish something big.

no, this problem had nothing to do with him. it was you. besides you, all the things he worked hard for was just second nature.

how annoying.

▸ your sworn rivalry had been one-sided for the longest of time to any witnesses. grumbling under his breath while he passed you, making a great effort to speak curtly with you, and was certainly not beyond intentionally knocking his shoulder into yours when he passed the look you shot at him for doing this was enough to make him wither on the spot– unintentional joke. my bad.

but he knew you were just as competitive as he was. the way you acted just had to be intentional. some of your remarks towards him were too pointed to ignore– your smiles and your friendliness nothing more than keeping it as civil as possible in a workplace setting.

professionalism, masking a deeper intention: to outdo him.

▸ and once you had figured that your feigned innocence would no longer keep you afloat, that's when the true rivalry began. an ambition-fuelled climb to the top to be better than the other.

it manifested more childishly than you two cared to admit.

"you know, chewing on pens isn't great for your enamel." johnathan practically jumps out of his seat, your words effectively snapping him out of his completely focused state.

he grumbles, looking over at you while lowering the pen away from his mouth a habit that i have too... guys look away itz not projecting...

you only shrug your shoulders. "just saying, johnny."

"don't call me that." he retorts, trying not to roll his eyes. "are you here just to bother me with unsolicited comments about my habits and dental advice?"

you laugh and he feels his face heat up in annoyance. you and your stupid laugh. he's heard enough of it around the workplace while you chatted amongst the others. it was a sound he could live without.

"so hostile. we work together, y'know?" you grin. there's a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. you were getting on his nerves and you knew it.

"anyways, i just came to ask if you had a pen i could borrow. preferably not one with teeth marks." the last part is tacked on so briefly that johnathan didn't even have time to be offended about it before he replied.

he looks at you dead in the face. "sorry. i don't have an extra pen on me."

you glance at the completely untouched, unused, ballpoint pen on his desk and then back at him. he says nothing, staring at you silently, before you get the hint decide to go ask someone else.

▸ it gets pettier.

imagine johnathan eying up a coworker, getting all blushy and stumbling over his words around them.

and within a week, you've got their number– and he passes by the two of out in that STUPID FUCKING HIPSTER CAFE GODDAMMIT–

it's not that serious to him. he can move on from a workplace crush. he however, can't move on from the fact you swooped in before he even got a chance. you never care to bring up that on your little coffee date with that person ended up being a disaster– maybe it was for the better they stayed away from him

▸ of course, he was able to outdo you too. his biggest success?

"so," johnathan flinched away, about to walk out the glass doors of alchemax and head home for the day– only to find you with your back leaning against the frame, arms crossed. "heard you got put in charge over something pretty important."

he curses under his breath. "you can't just sneak up on people like that."

"i was literally standing here in plain sight the entire time."

"were you waiting for me or something?" he asks sarcastically. johnathan seems somewhat surprised when you don't respond, awkwardly averting your gaze from him for a moment hm. guess that's a "yes"...

"doesn't matter." you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets. "so... you're working on a portal thingy?"

"i'm one of the people overseeing it, yes." he huffs, trying to answer your questions quickly and just get the hell home. but as you figured, he had all the time in the world when it came to correcting you.

"and– the word portal is inaccurate."

you raise an eyebrow. "yeah?"

"it's a particle accelerator. you should know what that means. the goal of this project is to essentially create a passageway– a bridge, if you will– between two separate dimen–"

"so, a portal." you interrupt.

he glares at you and you swear his eye twitches.

"just wanted to know. congrats, ohnn." you say casually, before exiting out the door.

the next time he sees you, he discovers that head scientist, olivia octavius who just so happens to be fond enough of your work to hear you out when you asked her decided it would be a good idea to have you work on the project as well.

even though johnathan was still technically still ahead of you– he kicked himself for how quickly you were beginning to catch up. you flashed him a grin from your desk as you began to help out on the project– he forced one back through gritted teeth.

▸ after tirelessly working on the project together as a team still trying your very best to outdo one another he figures this feud of yours is getting nowhere.

you've both spent sleepless nights on this project you both equally cared for,, it was time to just give up and be normal coworkers. an odd conclusion for johnathan to reach as a notorious grudge holder. maybe the lack of rest was getting to him, too exhausted to even deal with you anymore. or maybe, he was satisfied where he was right now– on the verge of a huge breakthrough with him being one of the main contributors– he no longer needed the pleasure of being better than you.

"how did you even get this number?" you ask, recognizing his voice through the phone as he greeted you.

"well, funny thing actually. alchemax has all the employee information on files, so i just–"

the realization hits you. "snooped through mine to get my phone number?! you're insane!"

he's desperate to explain, just trying to get to his point without getting a headache from you. "no, no, no– wait, i didn't come to fight or anything–"

"then what do you want, johnathan? a little medal? a trophy or somethin? you're probably getting that anyways after this whole thing– so,, so– what? what is it?!" you snap.

this is the only blatant hostility you've ever shown him. both ends of the call fall silent.

"wow uh– that was a lot." he mumbles awkwardly.

"...'m sorry." the shame makes your ears burn up. it is getting childish. you can't deny it.

he blinks at his phone, before bringing it back up to his ear. "did you just apologize? have i got the right person?"

it's your turn to groan. "are you trying to get me to take it back?"

"no! no, no, no– sorry." he replies quickly, stuttering as he tries to get back on track. "i just wanted to talk...."

the words hang in the air for much longer than needed.

"just spit it out already." you inturrupt.

"we should truce." he blurts out. "you know... maybe we should calm down. start over."

johnathan pauses for a moment, waiting for a reaction from you. you give him absolutely nothing. he takes a deep breath before speaking up again.

"i just thought it'd be better this way. this is getting ridiculous. and i think we're both mature enough to move past it so–"

"no, thank you."

he falters momentarily, processing what you had just said. "i'm– i'm sorry, i think misheard you."

"no, you heard me," you repeat, your smile clear as day in your voice, "no. thank. you."

"i like what we've got going on. keeps me motivated." the sweetness in your tone makes him cringe.

"you can't be serious." he rubs the bridge of his nose, fighting off the urge to lose his mind.

"oh, but i am." you lean into your phone's mic, voice dropping to a whisper. "just give me time. i'll catch up with you eventually."

your stubborness was truly something else.

"nope. can't do this, not today, nope–"

you laugh to yourself, hearing him hang up. you secretly hoped he'd at least keep talking to you a little longer. probably just a result of being a tad sleep deprived too.

▸ the collider is almost finished. ever since the phone call, you and johnathan hadn't talked for days.

and now, there you were, at his desk.

"need a pen?" he asks, looking up at you, expecting you to bother him again.

you shake your head. "actually, i came to ask for something else. i've been thinking about what you said..."

the words catch in your throat. you stare at the ground, the humiliation of what you're about to say causing you to fidget with your hands. he's never seen you like this– timid and anxious in his presence rather than smug and confident. it's a sight that he thought would bring him joy– but he's far beyond that now. instead, he looks at you curiously, not unlike the way he observes specimens.

"go on..." he says, leaning in slightly.

you meet his gaze sheepishly. "yeah. maybe a truce doesn't sound so bad."

he smiles back, cautious but hopeful. "you mean it?"

"this isn't me surrendering." you're quick to say, though your defensiveness falls flat, only causing his smile to fade for a moment. "i'm growing bored of it. we can just move on." it's not what he had in mind– but he'll take it.

"okay. sounds... good?" he replies awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"mhm. so, you still have my phone number, right?"

he freezes. "yes... but– um– i can just delete it from my contacts now if– if you want. that was weird of me to do. really sorry 'bout that. just wanted to talk."

"nah. keep it." you say with a slight shrug of your shoulders. he tilts his head slightly at your reaction.

"i'll text you when work's done so we can grab a coffee or somethin." there's that smile he's grown so familiar with. this time it has no undertones of aggression– something which he finds more unnerving somehow. he can't tell what you're up to.

"i– uh– what–" he stammers.

you await the rejection.

"i mean– sure... but... you want that?" he asks, his tone careful, like he expects this to just be a scheme of yours. never in a million years would he think that you'd want to actually resolve whatever conflict you had going on. much less, spend time with him outside of work.

" i mean, i just offered, didn't i?"

"right– ...so uh– after work then. okay. it's a date."

he mentally kicks himself for the last part. "i– not like– a date, date, but–"

you don't give him time to stumble over his words and make a fool of himself.

"great." you turn to leave, but glance over your shoulder before walking away. "see you later, johnny."

▸ you failed to acknowledge this earlier, and maybe he had too– but over the course of your mutual rivalry, you found that you admired him. his brain, his work, his sheer tenacity– and he admired you too.

perhaps you didn't have to be better than one another.

"here's to new beginnings." you mutter to yourself, shooting him a text while waiting at the cafe.

[cinnamonest]

I'm now into the 5th season of hxh. As soon as I finish this series I will actually make a proper post but in the meantime I want to shout into the void how I feel about some of these bastards. Yes I was too lazy to turn off subtitles before taking hulu screenshots. I've been cutting into my sleep hours to watch this since the past week since I keep having to work overtime so this might be incoherent and delirious idk. I'm not entirely sure I'm awake right now. This might be a dream. Anyway

Hisoka was the only character I was familiar with by name prior to watching and like. I always assumed the pervert schtick was like a one-time line/single scene that people just took and ran with it. I was incorrect

I know full well this man would most likely kill me but like. I think I'd be okay with it. I think it would be a good way to go and I would probably accept it. I'd thank him even. I'd ask him to step on me while he does it. Or maybe I'm right at the threshold where I'm so pathetic I'm genuinely not worth killing which I think I'd also be okay with as long as I can still get knocked to the ground and have him step on my neck. Please sir

Also a large portion of me watching this, up until this past week, has been while I'm at home bc I've been home a lot recently and I often have a parallel play thing going on with my mother where in the evenings I'll watch something or play games while she browses facebook or reads her Bible/Christian books and she'll like pay half-attention and make comments every few minutes on anything I watch. In true parent fashion she's managed to be there for like every scene of random naked shots or weird moaning and says nothing, but once just looked up, made a face of deep discomfort and went back to highlighting her Bible. I think about this a lot. I'm sorry mom

I'm very weak to comic relief men actually and I have a triple weakness to token perv characters and furthermore my ovaries were created as such that men who are incredibly intelligent while also being astoundingly dumb are my kryptonite so my boy, be he as he may, dare I admit, does things to me. I think if you pulled the typical tease line where you say something about having a problem and needing a doctor to inspect you or just flash him he might die on the spot and that is very endearing to me. One could torment this man with the slightest of skin or sensuality it would be very easy. I appreciate you leorio

I want to protect Killua but like does he need it really. Like the "oh poor baby I want to hold him and squeeze him and never let anything harm him" urge is there because of my blatant maternal complexes but at the same time I know full well he does not need protecting and would realistically be the one protecting anyone else but like the urge is still there. I don't care. I WILL find something to protect him from and I WILL do it

Also very tsun. I can sense it. I know I'm dumb and weak and I would get snarky comments about it but that's okay. I would let the middle school aged boy bully me. I'd be okay with that

I think Illumi looks kind of like an insect. However he also terrifies me a little bit but I don't think that would particularly bother him. I think I could tell him both that he terrifies me and that he looks like a bug and he would have an entirely neutral response. Would probably just ask what kind of bug but may be disappointed if I name a non-cool bug. I'd probably say a grasshopper. I don't know how he would feel about that

I think what would be infuriating to me most is it is difficult to get much of a reaction out of this dude. Like you can be a total nightmare to have as a captive and the most you'll get is a :/ response. In attitude at least, like he'd probably still snap my wrist if deemed appropriate but would do it with just a mildly exasperated face/voice. I would try so hard to get a strong reaction and would never get it and that infuriates me. What right do you have to infuriate me like this bug man. Stop staring at me with them big ol eyes

I think if this man were to be living a normal life and not running with criminals he would wear socks with sandals on a daily basis. Like those thick white halfway up the calves socks and tan buckled sandals worn exclusively by boomer middle aged dads. And it's not the only trait he would share with middle aged men either I think he would care deeply about the quality of his lawn and mispronounce foreign things in a way that is borderline creative for how wrong it is. I think he just is a middle aged boomer dad trapped in a younger man's body. Release this man into a Home Depot and he will immediately adapt to his natural habitat

I am terrified of this man because due to who I am as a person I immediately evaluate all male specimens on what I think sex with them would be like, and cannot imagine a scenario involving this man where I come out of it without actual internal damage. Like you know how people joke about "rearranging your guts/insides" well this would be that but like actually genuinely. I think intercourse with this tank of a man would automatically necessitate medical attention. However do not mistake my horror for hesitancy because organ rupture is a price I will willingly pay for the experience of a realistic simulation of what I imagine it feels like to be a sick gazelle that falls behind the rest of the herd only to start hearing suspenseful nature documentary music

I cannot look at this man without my blood pressure immediately rising. I have never been simultaneously so strongly attracted to yet have such a strong desire to strangle someone. I think the worst part of this is that he would somewhat let me attempt to strangle him but would find it endearing and would start going on an analysis of my personhood and I will be real with you all that would peak my fury and I would become violent. And blah blah "understanding myself" hey man can you maybe not mass murder and go on your journey of self discovery by doing drugs or taking a road trip or something like a normal person in their quarter life crisis. Is that so hard.

As my fingers type these words I can feel my heart rate increasing and I am filled with immense fury and arousal at the same time. Why are you attractive? What is wrong with me? I hate it and I hate myself for it. I have to unironically take a break from typing to take a deep breath. I have to move on because I'm getting heart palpitations

Shalnark seems underappreciated. I love him so much but he also terrifies me in a way none of the others do. Like sure being blatantly cruel or loud or huge like some of the others is one thing but he's too cheery. It scares me on a visceral level. Sir why are you smiling like that. I do not trust it. Or rather realistically I know I WOULD trust it if I met this man as a stranger because I'm very gullible and that would not end well for me. This boy would probably be like one of the absolute worst people to end up stuck with once you get into it but that is very well hidden from the surface and I do not like that. I know I'm naive as all hell and I would fall for the same tricks over and over and I just know that would be used against me

On the bright side though this does mean he would actually fit the classic, original yandere trope since originally yanderes are supposed to be super sweet and cheery externally, so there's that

My skrungly. My tiny son. Y'all do not understand my predicament because I have a NEED to squish his face in my hands, I have an unbearable urge to pat his head and ruffle his hair, it is a literal physical intrinsic need like food and water and I need this but like at what cost. Is the price one I am willing to pay. The answer is probably yes actually. What are a few broken fingers for a moment of pure bliss. Likewise even if by a mere 2 centimeters I am taller than this man and that brings me great satisfaction. I hold great power in my hands. I would be sure to bring this matter up on a daily basis at great risk to my well-being

Baby boy you are the warmth of my soul and the love of my life and the brightest star in my night sky which is really saying something because you have about as much positive energy as a funeral. Regardless. Baby boy. Baby

I want Kurapika to know I love him. If Kurapika has 100000000 fans I'm one of them. I'm Kurapika has 10 fans I'm one of them. If Kurapika has 0 fans I am dead. If I were a shounen anime protagonist that just got the shit beaten out of me and I'm crumpled on the ground on the verge of unconsciousness and/or death I would have flashbacks and imagery of Kurapika go through my head and then I'd get a sudden burst of willpower and energy to miraculously get back up and kill the villain in a single blow. If I'm having a bad day and a singular thought of Kurapika passes through my mind it becomes a good day. Knowing Kurapika is a spiritual experience for me. I have a small orgasm every time my eyes are graced with Kurapika's visage. I think about Kurapika at minimum 127 times daily and if I fail to do this I will die instantly. I would protect Kurapika with my life. And by God I would gladly volunteer myself for clan rebuilding. Sir if you ever want to spread your bloodline I am right here. I will leap at the chance to spend the rest of my life as your personal incubator. I feel like he'd be paranoid and overprotective and lock me in the same house forever but you know what? I'm fine with that. Walking through our house at night will be like a semi-obscure 2000s Japanese horror rpg because every step you take there's a set of big red eyes staring at you but instead of weird Japanese demons its just pouty tiny kurtas. I am in physical pain because the most screen time he's had in ages is a phone call. Where is my boy. What have they done with my boy. If he does not return soon I will become violent

[beevean]

A theory I've read more than once is that this one frame of Lenore entering Hector's cell for the second time is proof that she is not actually enjoying what she has to do:

The wiki describes it as such: "Lenore has a sad expression when entering the dungeon to visit Hector the second time."

Also this, from a comment I found:

Like for example when she goes to meet Hector the second time, you can see sadness on her face when she is walking alone in the dungeon, but as soon as she approaches Hector she puts on a smile. I.e. may be she already knew she had to use the ring at that point and felt bad about it but didn't want Hector to realize that. A lot of such small animation details really provide a glimpse into what the explicit writing was lacking.

Okay.

First things first: I doubt she has the ring in mind already. It's hard to tell because Lenore pulls it out of her ass with zero foreshadowing whatsoever, but with the way it was framed, the ring was likely a direct response to Striga's idea of buying mercenaries to make Hector unnecessary, which comes later into the story: Lenore even uses the information she eavesdropped from Striga as a way to lie to Hector about her loyalty to the sisters. In theory it makes sense, because Hector needs to be reliable to be allowed to live, but the ring is... a very poor solution the more you think about it, because it only addresses one of the many logistic problems that come with forcing Hector to make an army of Night Creatures, and it's not the dead bodies/living livestock paradox. And going with the story, it's unlikely Lenore was already thinking of raping the ring into Hector: why would she waste time interrogating him to understand what he wants, then? She could have already started flirting with him. Then again, why even try to gaslight him into obedience and appreciation if she planned to brute-force her way in anyway... ah whatever, moving on.

Second: that expression honestly doesn't look sad to me. I would be willing to give the interpretation some credit, because she's looking downwards which can be a sign of sadness, but after that one frame, she switches to this expression:

Now she looks mildly pissy, like the idea of talking to Hector is just soooooo annoying, ugh. She even has the sassy cocked eyebrow lmao.

Of course that can't be it, so I propose the most obvious interpretation: she's serious and deep in thought. That is because their first encounter ended up disastrously: Hector assaulted Lenore with the intent of threatening her, which pissed her off, and she assaulted Hector by beating him to an inch of his life, which is not the best way to win a pet's trust. So she's most likely thinking the best way to approach him again.

And I'll even praise a small detail: the first time Lenore fed Hector, she made him crawl towards her to eat from her hand. The second time, however, she tosses an apple to his feet. Both gestures are demeaning, but after that incident she seems to be more cautious towards him, and being more careful into manipulating him. I'm honestly surprised that her final solution is stupid as fuck when she can be intelligent when she wants to. real reason she's hector's soulmate: both of them have braincells like christmas tree lights :V

Third: oh, my good shipping friend, do you want to talk about explicit writing?

These are not freeze frame bonuses. The scene lingers on this expression on Lenore's face as Hector is screaming in pain over the ring she put on him.

So, you're willing to believe Lenore didn't want to use the ring but felt forced to because in one frame she has an expression that mildly looks displeased... but somehow you ignore this blatantly sadistic reaction? This screams, at the very least, "haha, sucker, I've won"; but add to this that Hector is visibly and audibly in pain, shocked and scared at the curse overtaking his body during a vulnerable moment...

This ties well with how she beat Hector to a pulp not just out of self-defense, but because she wanted to feel strong and powerful when surrounded by people who underestimate her - the writing might imply that she was offended that Hector too saw her as vulnerable and stupid, but she was explicitly laughing and mocking him while showing off her strength (a strength she doesn't display when, say, Isaac enters her cage: he easily intimidates her). You might read the implication that Lenore spoke about Hector so disgustingly to the sisters to be taken seriously as a vampire mistress and didn't actually want to dehumanize him, but explicitly, even ignoring the forced pet play that showed she had fun treating him like a dog, she reduced him to a "problem to be solved" when complaining about her woes, and when she could have apologized or explained herself she minimized or doubled down on the harm she caused, never once expressing any remorse or doing anything worthwile to make up for it (like, for example, talking about the ring and how it's a shame Hector is only there because he has no choice because she feels they'd be good friends without it: that would imply guilt).

One frame might paint her as a reluctant villain only trying to make everyone happy and being stuck between a rock and a hard place, but multiple scenes paint her as a vile bully and abuser who enjoys feeling in power and control, whether she uses kindness or harm to achieve her goal.

I'm sorry, subtext can absolutely enrich the understanding of a story or character, but not when it actively contradicts the text.

Do you want my personal example? I'll play the same game. When Isaac attacks the castle, Lenore goes to rescue Hector first thing, instead of checking on Carmilla. For one moment, she even looks torn on where to go:

This shows that she cares about him quite nicely and believes his safety is the first priority, without having to spell it out - no declataration of love, no "you're too important to me", the action speaks for itself. However, there is also her reaction when Hector severs his finger to get rid of the ring, after he explains that "command and control flows through [him] to Lenore here and to her friends":

It could be simple disgust because, well, there's a severed finger and pools of blood lying near her. But I also see what the commenter saw in that frame in S3: sadness. Defeat. Lenore has lost control of the Night Creatures. She can't do anything to protect Carmilla and the castle. And she has lost control of Hector, who has gone behind her back and is protecting her at the expense of her sisters and home. She's powerless. Everything she has worked for went up in smokes and was pointless. Which, as it was shown and told, greatly bothers her. (this is also why I believe her suicide makes sense for her state of being, an opinion apparently not shared by her fans)

This leads to my interpretation which is something that more people need to learn, and the reason I keep eviscerating this character because the writing and the fandom piss me off something fierce: abusers can care about you. They can care about your safety and well being, they can want what (they think) it's best for you. What makes them abusers is that they place more importance on their own need of control. Lenore wanting to save Hector because she has grown close to him and finds in him someone who listens to her doesn't at all erase in the slightest all the harm she has caused him: which, I reiterate, includes lying to him and taking advantage of his feelings and need for love to trick him into sex with the objective of placing a slave ring on him, and enjoying his suffering when she won - and when Hector called her out on this, her response was "YOU WERE HAVING FUN".

At the end of the day, she has never stopped behaving like a vampire, a creature whose definition of love is "acting to keep something with you for as long as you can". Even in her most wholesome scenes, like this one or the one where she pleads for more of Carmilla's patience, it's easy to see at the core of it all a need to control the situation and people involved, and reluctance to admit her needless cruelty. This is nuance, not "she's actually good deep down, pls ignore all the sexual abuse because it was for Hector's own good 🥺".

On one hand, it's true that when you do character analyses, you will always be biased, because you come in with your ideas and preconceptions. I am biased too, of course, you can tell. On the other, it's dishonest to cling only onto the most convenient hidden details to look like you have fully understood the text, when you dismiss the most obvious ones that are so obvious you have to actively try to.

[lemonadecandy103]

Ok I’m just gonna say it. My feelings about Kougami up to this point:

(Disclaimer: I have not seen PPP yet so my impressions are based on the spoilers and discussions that all the watchers have had, -and they are subject to change) - also trying to separate my shipper feelings from this but beware of my inherent bias anyway.

Season 1: Kougami is generally very warm and protective towards Akane. He doesn’t see her as a woman yet but they both validate each other to an unimaginable degree. I mean, she risked her life and psycho pass to help him track down Makishima who ppl believed was a ghost. She restored the credibility of his investigative abilities and made him actually think that there might be a better world without the structural divisions that they have. That didn’t stop him from breaking the law but it’s obvious that he especially thought very highly of her even after leaving the country.

Psycho Pass: The Movie: honestly, the movie is so enjoyable with regards to Kougami’s character development. He smiles at Akane so much in this movie, tries to get validation from her and again is really protective of her. They definitely pose Akane as more womanly and more as a equal with him - both in physical and mental abilities. She also impresses him several times in the film. He’s overall amused like “wow, she actually followed me all the way out here. What a woman”

SS Case 3: He sings praises of Akane ofcourse, even in the presence of an undeniable beauty like Frederica. If anything, we can contrast Frederica finding him to Akane finding him in the first movie, and his dialogue and body language alone show how he’s mildly annoyed by or at least resistant to Frederica’s presence. Most of his character arc here is in relation to Tenzing though which I suppose was supposed to teach him to be responsible for more than just himself(?), but that ends up being left open ended during his fight with Garcia (I mean he stabs the man to death before they can conclude the dialogue). Overall though, Kougami’s smiles are for Tenzing here and also when he’s saying that he’ll return to Japan.

Season 3 and First Inspector: He’s either all focused on the investigation at hand or with Akane. Everytime he smiles in this season- it’s for Akane! And not to mention, they don’t even really discuss work or philosophy in their interactions, but more about themselves and what they’ve missed from each other after being separated for years. This is what gave me hope that his emotional intelligence had improved and he would finally find some peace in Akane’s presence.

Providence: Based on what I’ve read, Kougami feels rather out-of-character in this. Like a weird blip in the timeline of his character arc. All the bonus scenes I saw anyway just made his interactions with Akane awkward. I didn’t expect it to be absolutely smooth but where’s the warmth that he initially had for this woman in S1 and the 1st movie??? What is this fuckboi behavior Kougami??? Maybe he’s able to make up for it in the 3rd act of Providence at least based on the notes I’ve read but he’s just so cold. Like he has a point to make?? I’m so confused. The tone of Providence is just cold in general and we keep seeing scenes where Ko and Akane are just on their own, never really together and communicating - the rain, the ice, the cold city drafts - just adds to it. But maybe the fact that S3 and PPFI comes after this gives us hope that he did get his act together and maybe visited her more and actually talked this out with her while she was in confinement. Maybe we’ll get some bonus scenes in a novel format.

I haven’t even seen PPP yet and I already need a season 4 to redeem Kougami’s character like what the hell. (And I’m sure the animation staff are exhausted and I don’t wanna encourage overworking them) - even if it’s like a measly 45 sec scene, I need to see the warm and caring Kougami again.

Providence looks phenomenal though - the team definitely outdid themselves - and I can’t wait to watch it.

[gumballavocadoharry]

Harry teaching his baby; Headcanon:

Ik I haven't done these in awhile, but last night, I wrote out a bunch of ideas for several and this is one of many!!!!

Compassion. The first person alongside you to show them compassion and understanding. That would be evident in their teen years when they start making more serious mistakes. Harry would always be there and make sure his tone, words and expressions were all in tune with his deep concern and love for them.

Intelligence. Harry is a very smart and wise man. No doubt, common sense is essential for him and making sure his children have it is one of his goals.

Kindness. Is a big one for him! Treat people with kindness is his motto and what better example than to treat his own child with kindness. Spoiling them at times, but speaking kindly, mildly, generously and patiently and acting on it is what he knows his child will look at.

Patience. When he needs to repeat things over and over, or when they're throwing a tantrum....he tries hard not yell or scream or say something irrational. When disciplining them, he's mild and reasonable and firm.

Humbleness. He listens to his children and takes their feelings into consideration always. He'll ask their opinions and will make choices with them.

Boldness. Harry has a natural outgoing personality, but when he notices his child lags behind in courage, he's right there to guide them and give them that self boost.

Affectionate. Harry's a HUGE example in this as he loves to smother his child in kisses and hugs, especially when they really need it. Words of encouragement and "I love you's" are always said daily and so are notes of what his child likes for their meals or as a present. He is vocal and physical about his love and his children never have to wonder.

Thankful. Harry does this by telling his children that he's thankful for them everyday and that they are the best gift he could've ever asked for. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so grateful for you and you make me so proud to be your daddy everyday."

Positive. He teaches this by being positive about the little things in life. Like the flowers or a sunny day.

Classy. By having manners and showing courtesy to others, he sets an example of being a gentleman.

Silly. Harry's a natural goofball anyway so it comes easy for him when he makes funny faces or blow raspberries on their tummy. He jokes around and it raises their spirits on a bad day.

Free expression. Harry wants his children to express themselves and never feel hindered to keep things inside. He especially wants them to come to him and talk about their feelings.

Honesty. Harry makes a point to be honest and truthful with everything, so he expects the same from his child.

Self-aware. He's been through honest self reflection of himself and no doubt wants his children the have the same thing. To know and discover who they are and what they expect from themselves.

Loyalty. Harry keeps his promises and so when his child promises something that they can't keep, harry teaches them how to make it up.

Self-control. As hard as it would be for Harry in keeping them in check, he would have to let them see that they need self-control in their emotions, wants and needs. So despite them screaming or crying they're heads off for a toy, he's calm and reserved in showing them that they can't always get what they want.

Ethics. Harry has strong morals in certain things and he sticks to them even in the face of pressure. So he would teach his child how to be strong and firm with theirs.

Strength. In times of pain or pressure, Harry no doubts wants his kid to be strong enough to stand up to the trails.

Love. The most important lesson of all Harry teaches them. To love themselves, others, animals, flaws and all. He teaches them to have respect and kindness towards people and to be humble and sufficient in holding onto meaningful relationships and their dignity. To be happy, healthy and mature topped off with character is what makes Harry the most proud.

The best teacher he could be is their father in showing them that there is NO ONE in this world he could or would love more than them.

[rekishi-aka]

The Mars House by Natasha Pulley

So somehow...I managed to finish the book already? Not sure how, actually. (Well, I sort of do, I spent a few hours in bed with a hot water bottle on my chest to relax the muscles in case that's causing some of my issues.)

Anyhow!

In a way, it was a very typical and also a very un-typical Pulley book. I like her style a lot in all her books (we shall not speak of the Pepperharrow book and I have not read the Bedlam Stacks) and there are enough twists in the story to keep me entertained. Some of it was utterly predictable, but in a good way where I want to know how they pull off a trope.

I've been rereading some of the Pulley books recently and they're all much more minimalistic than I do remember them after the first read. Which is...weird, sort of, but I think is actually a perk of her style. It looks like a hole when you scrutinize it, but your mind actually makes up for it.

The Mars House is a bit denser written than her previous things, but in a good way, it's fun.

It has a lot of Mandarin (and footnotes!!), but often the hanzi are missing in favour of only giving the Pinyin. As someone with a basic language and C-ent background, this is mildly annoying. I think the random Pinyin would drive me even more bonkers if I didn't have that background. I like it! I genuinely do and I think it's nicely done. But also...I'm not sure how people other readers are experiencing this.

The characters are nicely drawn, I like them all even if I want to bash January over the head sometimes.

I especially like the gender abolition topic and the friction it causes within the society, but also the display of how if a non-issue it is in the end.

I do recommend it!

Spoilers under the cut

A list of thoughts:

January. I love him. He has no clue what kind of story he's in. Which is fair! But he makes some Really Dumb Decisions, which are understandable in his position - he's not a politician, he has only been paying surface attention to the politics, Gale is being cagey about a lot of things, he's traumatized, marginalized, and has good reason to believe he'll meet the same fate as Max - but argh. January, honey, get with the program and pay attention. (He comes around.)

Gale (River) is a smart idiot. I love them. But for all their intelligence, they are a bit stupid. I get why. It makes sense for them. But they could have made this a lot easier on everyone if they'd just come clean to January.

I wish we'd learned more about the naturalization process, because it sounds fascinating

I expected the Canadian shack (or well..tent in the cold wilderness), but not like this, that was nice twist

It's also quite meta since it references both a certain shop on Filigree Street, as well as radio-dosimetry on film

As I said, I need to suspend my disbelief here, simply because I mean

Mammoths?!

What do the mammoths eat and drink, if water is the limiting factor? How do they have pine forests, if they are low on water? I mean I get it, pine do better in cold climate, but pine also needs water. There are examples of arid cold climates on earth, but....hrm idk. Weird.

Why are mammoths relevant for the ecosystem anyway?

The resistance cages are such a central part and idk if it really makes sense. Like yes, gravity is lower on Mars, sure. And yes, people will probably grow taller in lower gravity. But one the one hand, evolution doesn't work that quickly (sure, they do genetic engineering), but also people who come to Mars will have less muscles after a while. We see it with ISS astronauts and they exercise a lot up there. So the danger would actually be less after a while if they just left people out of cages. There's even a point of that in the book, where Sasha and his staff train with the cages.

[ghostbird-7]

Thoughts while I’m rewatching dead reckoning-roughly the first 2 hours

This movie is just so visually pleasing and engaging. I want to eat it. The shot from beneath the submarine looking up at the ice?? Fucking gorgeous.

I know logistically why they made the call but the Russian submersible crew speaking Russian accented English will always be funny to me. Also reminds me of the doctor who episode in 11’s run with the Russian submarine. It was Clara’s era. Anyway, they also do a great job of making us immediately empathize with the crew just based on their fear and confusion in the face of the enemy. It helps that that enemy is the same one the protagonist is facing, but it’s also just great acting on the crew’s part in a relatively short period. The existential horror of being trapped in a submarine of all things with a murderous ai is genuinely chilling.

I really love how old they let Ethan be in this movie. With most action franchises with an aging protagonist they refuse to alter the character, instead sticking to what’s been proven to work and MI has always done the opposite of that and it’s just so good. All his interactions with the new IMF agent just speak to his experience, and how many people he’s seen just like this guy, inexperienced and thrown in over their heads, not make it out. His fucking sadness after he welcomes the delivery guy to the IMF and he leaves is so good. TC your micro expressions will never not destroy me. Mildly controversial opinion but I didn’t think Grace and Ethan’s chemistry was in any way romantic or paternal, I think they’re going to be really great friends. Also “we live and die in the shadows for those we hold close and those we never meet” is both super corny and such a perfect representation of Ethan’s character it makes me screech.

I have complicated feelings about Ethan’s backstory retcon which I won’t go into but I do think they definitely made the right choice not doing the deaging thing for the flashback.

One of these days I’m going to write something exclusively about everything I love about Ilsa, but that day is not today. For now, even looking at pictures of her makes me a bit emotional. Rebecca Ferguson you have changed me, body and soul. Also that eyepatch being because she can’t wink is so funny. No ones doing it like her.

Ethan briefly gives his horse pats and I liked it. I feel like he’s a horse girl. In his heart. I like that none of the horses die in this sequence. I know it’s unrealistic but this is fucking mission impossible we’re talking about it’s not a docuseries and it would make me sad.

Ilsa’s costuming in this movie is so fucking good. The looseness and lightness of everything she wears really complements the economy of motion that Ferguson does so well.

Indira Varma win!!

In retrospect watching Ethan move so unimpeded into a meeting of some of the highest ranking us intelligence officers is such a great look at him as a character for newcomers to the franchise. He’s such a spy in this, it’s so good. It’s just a great standalone movie.

Kitttridge!!!! I hate this bitch, and I’m so glad he’s here.

In every interaction with kittridge ethan is such a bitch, I love him so much.

“It’s my job to use you. Just like it’s your job to be of use” is fucking heavy. The decades of being of use, and having the shit beaten out of him and his loved ones leaving or dying so he can serve, the absolute mindfuck of his loyalty to the IMF and to a greater extent to keeping the world safe and lack of regard for himself. I don’t have coherent words about this, but it’s great characterization and I’m so sad about it.

I love how much of an ensemble movie this is, by the way.

“The man himself is expendable” Briggs I am going to break your legs. He is my special guy.

I love how much this is a manifestation of Benji’s monologue in MI 3 about the Antigod. It was silly but he was not wrong.

Also Benji’s outfits and Luther’s hat… really good.

I cannot wait for them to tell us what the connection between Ethan and Briggs is because it’s SO weird

Benji and Luther’s relationship being given a chance to evolve is really good, it was a side of their team that had felt underdeveloped and it works really well here. Them not letting Ethan know gives us insight into some of the troubleshooting on missions that he just can’t cover because of his skillset and it’s really good. Also banter 👌👌

The return of his sleight of hand is gorgeous. “Putpocket” is horrible and super silly.

The entire scene where Benji is interrogated by the bomb is so good, Simon pegg is as always excellent, being forced to admit that he fears death, that he loves his friends more than anything else, all without any stakes, it’s just so clearly meant to humiliate and tear him into bits and it works and then he goes back on the job because all the things he said are true and now the machine Knows.

Pom is flawless in this movie. As a character, she’s delightfully unhinged. As someone who’s attracted to women, it’s. It’s nice for me. But also genuinely from a narrative standpoint it would be so easy for her to be extraneous but her presence is so strong it just carries. Her monster truck and combat boots and small ponytail compel me deeply.

Running scene running scene running scene running scene

I fucking love his little lawyer outfit.

That car chase scene is maybe my favorite in the series. You can see McQ and TC’s commitment to stunts as a carrier for narrative and character, it’s visually stunningly, it has Paris who I’m obsessed with, everything Ethan does is just impeccable and Grace plays the perfect foil. His deep discomfort with not being the one who’s driving, repeatedly reassuring her after the crash, his getaway driving skills, his little looks to Briggs (again what the fuck is up there), wanting to be the protector and being deeply embarrassed with the fiat. Not actually knowing how to drive it is such a great comedy moment and also blue screening when he can’t do it immediately. That 5 minutes of him just being so embarrassed and frustrated with himself. I want to eat it. It’s so good. And then of course he’s doing stunt driving in it and that’s also glorious. Grace going in circles in the fiat is so fucking funny. Also Ethan’s the worst fucking backseat driver it’s amazing. He is losing his mind. He is actually scrunching up in the seat, which he can do even in a fiat because he is tiny. It’s just quality television.

I knew they would do the train thing the second I saw the tracks and I just hate it. It’s really good objectively but I hate it every time.

Him having to just carry this wheel around for a solid 5 minutes-it’s his new rock. It’s his sadness object and he’s holding onto it forever.

Ethan’s fucking despair every time he sees his friends during a mission for the first time because he knows they might be hurt, the fact that that is consistently his first thought beyond relief or gratitude makes me insane.

Also the tacit acknowledgement that Ethan has just been working his way through the mitsopolis family is so fucking funny. It’s also fairly uncomfortable for Alanna because he seems substantially less into it than he was with max, but I digress.

I cannot wait for his hair to be longer, I think somewhere between MI 1 and 2 is the ideal length, but I hold a deep fear of the potential bowl cut.

The repeating pattern of all of Ethan’s friends withholding information from him is really interesting.

We all know Ethan’s whole shtick with you’ve gotta get out of here it’s dangerous I can’t protect you is a testament to how much he loves them but it’s also just..so much a trauma response. Every time he does it you can see him panicking and trying to change an eventuality he can feel creeping behind his shoulder.

The quiet moments between Ilsa and Ethan in Venice are really good. Their initial reveling in being able to wordlessly communicate and talking to each other in the context of work and danger has given way to this very comfortable worn in curiosity about each other, and a willingness to give of themselves to satisfy each others curiosity. It feels like they’ve sort of grown up a bit in their relationships with other people by having their relationship with each other and it’s just really cool.

Pom’s outfit with the mask at the party in Venice is so fucking good. I tend to try not to linger on attraction to female characters because it feels more creepy than it does with male characters, likely due to some of my internalized nonsense, but she really does feel so much for the queer gaze. She also has a sword. I’m just really into all of it.

Some of the things Vanessa Kirby said about learning about projecting power make so much sense watching her move, there’s this artificiality and stasis to her that feels innately threatening.

The loop back from Gabriel’s religious overtones and the themes of sin in the first mission impossible movie is fascinating.

I love it when he vaults over railings and down floors. The easiness of it, it’s just good to look at.

Getting closer to Ilsa’s death scene is complicated. I understand why it had to be someone, and why that someone should be her. I understand that Rebeca Ferguson was done with the character. I’m just sad because I like her, and I’ve managed to separate that feeling from a reflexive anger at the narrative choices that were made, which I admit I sometimes have an issue with. Him finding her body and just sitting and breathing and looking at her is fucking brutal. Also the entity using Benji’s voice to misdirect him is A Lot.

The brutality of that back alley fight scene is such a good establishing look at Paris’s fighting style and a great character moment for both of them. We get her first moment of fallibility and we see what he’s made of when his back is literally against the wall.

I know either rogue nation or ghost protocol is supposed to be Ethan’s fever dream nightmare scenario, but dead reckoning feels so much more like that to me. An enemy he can’t hit, who has a better chance of predicting his insanity, who uses an almost literal ghost from his past to kill the people he’s built himself around in the present. He also is forced to jump off a cliff and be a passenger in a car. It’s all not coming up Ethan in this movie is what I’m saying.

For the rest of the movie we don’t see a lot of his grief, mostly his anger. Don’t get me wrong, the bit we get is very good and did make me cry a bit, and I know how much they’re packing into one movie, but I hope we get more of it in the next film. Anything else seems like a bit of a disservice to Ilsa’s character.

It bothers me every time that Grace doesn’t have contacts when she’s playing the white widow. She sits almost directly opposite her brother, they make full eye contact a lot.

Ethan’s “your life will always matter more to me than my own.” And Grace’s “you don’t even know me” and Ethan’s “what difference does that make.” Hm. I am having complex feelings, consisting mostly of distress. Her looking at Benji and Luther, and them both acknowledging the weight of Ethan saying that and confirming it’s the same for them, AUGH.

What the fuck is going on with the cryogenic tube/coffin Gabriel was in on the train?? I know he was probably using the mask to communicate with the entity and he had to do that convertly but the whole thing is just weird.

I’m gonna pick this up when it’s not about to be a Monday. Tune in shortly for a continuation of me losing my mind over some action movies, I guess.

[inkofamethyst]

March 10, 2024

Sorry but like, I do think I need to live alone I'm so sorry.

I'm by myself in my apartment this week and besides the lack of peer pressure to wash my dishes regularly (and also I have to be really careful to not forget my keys), UGH it's so nice to be ALONE. My roommate is great, seriously, but whew.

I'm coming to learn that some of the most intelligent people are SUPER multi-faceted, and that it's not necessarily a sign of mixed priorities. I've met physics PhDs who were considered for Julliard admission, who would've become a professional musician if they hadn't stumbled into biology, biophysics majors who are also in basically pre-professional music programs.

And this isn't necessarily a totally new concept to me (the majority of students in my undergrad orchestra were stem majors I think), it's just not at all what I expected to find here. It's comforting, though.

One thing I'll say about my python course, the actual computer science of it all is only mildly interesting to me (and also it make my head spin right round baby right round). I feel so bad because now that the lecture hall only manages to bring in a quarter to a third of the class on any give day and I'm right in the line of sight of the prof (but in the back bc I wanted to try something new hehe) so on pure CS days I'm sure I must be giving the blankest stare possible. It's not that I don't care, it's just that I care less. And the class is mostly graded based on products produced and not pure CS knowledge, so I can get by (so far).

Anyway with how political THG is and how uncomfy Suzanne's message can be (I don't want to fully dilute it into a basic battle royale since I am using her world (this could also just be me overthinking, like, what does she care, she's rich)), I'm leaning away from submitting that for my final project. I think I might build it regardless for just my friends then spend some time reskinning it into a dnd-esque dungeon crawl or something. Idk, I'll get my friends to beta test and see what they think. (This might just be me overthinking though, like,,, the class must have over 200 kids,,,, there's no way the teaching staff is going to spend time running everyone's programs outside of watching the video submissions lol. They're probably far more concerned with the techniques I'm using in the backend than the content of the frontend.)

Is wearing bright red lipstick to Target attention-seeking behavior? Well, yes, but I got the attention I was seeking because a girl told me she thought it was my perfect shade :)

Today I'm thankful for girls supporting girls! Women supporting women!! I've encountered an uptick in small tiktok accounts posting ootds and I LOVE being the first or one of the first comments to cheer them on, and I always give them a detail that caught my eye. I'm really loving seeing fashion from real people in my media. Also also! Lots of young women are talking openly about finances and how to get ahead and what intro positions really look like, and it's just lovely.

[rubin-therubix-loverofblorbos]

Hi, thanks for answering my ask, If it's not too hard can you tell me your race head canons for all the Mercs?

You're the best.

Engie: BLACK. He is not white. no. no don't look at the game. or the comics. or anything else related to engineer tf2. you cannot see that man at night. he's too much of a southern-black-mother-haver to be white. who cares about his dad, his MOM was BLACK. Polite, mildly violent when he needs to be, intelligent? His momma not white you can't change me.

Soldier: Native/Black. Mother Inuit and father African, OG last name Domoraud, got shortened to Doe through Immigration; OG first name was Amaqjuaq, but his parents had to choose a name on the spot. He has many identity issues, don't ask. Never takes off his helmet 'cause he doesn't like his monolids.Very touchy about the subject of race because where he lived was probably nearly as bad as Texas in terms of racism, feels he needs to devote every waking second to America or else he doesn't belong there. Yeah. He needs a bit of help. Has a weird accent but he hides it pretty well. Wow I rambled there...

Spy: Black/asian. Wow I really just dipped Tf2 into charcoal, didn't I? Didn't realize how many of them I Poc-ified until I put it down on paper. His mom was an asian woman, very stern, but she had a soft spot for her gender-weird kid. Dad was a black man, sweetheart, but he wasn't good at caring for people. Mother was a ballet star and taught him, he fucking mastered it. Broke his hip and disabled himself for life, but mastered it. Somehow he dramatizes it even more that it already was, and what actually happened was already halfway out a soap opera.

Sniper: Native. Māroi biological and Aboriginal Aussie Adoptive. He's Native on top of Native. Family spoke Antakarinya at home and he taught himself Māroi. Like Soldier, he has identity issues because languages and cultures get jumbled up in his head sometimes. Hates getting told he can't participate in Aboriginal activities because he isn't actually related to his parents. "BITCH? I WAS RAISED DOING THIS SHIT?" Is very passionate about his culture, especially his Antakarinya, because that is a language two breaths from death.

Scout: Black/white. LIGHTSKIN. CHEERIO-LOOKIN' MOTHERFUCKER. LITTLE E-FUCK-FEMBOY ASS. Soon as he pull out that fried chicken he's in a chick's panties. No explanation because you don't need one.

Pyro: Black. Heavy Nigerian accent, even when their speech isn't muffled people can barely understand them at times. Doesn't have the best english pronunciation, but their voice is jacked up anyways, so it doesn't matter. Fluent in American and British ASL despite this. Big person, bigger heart. 6'7'' 265 LB person with a voice deep enough to hit the Earth's core skipping around in Kidcore Aesthetic™️ and putting stickers on everything.

Demo: Black. we all know buddy. Although I feel like the Scottish are so on a different plane of being that they should be their own race. Black/Scottish. Very smart and has multiple degrees in chemistry and he drinks so much his blood has turned into pure alcohol. Scottish behavior. He wears kilts often, but sadly wears pants under his most times because they're. yknow. on a battle ground. But I think it's a shame. Can you tell I am getting tired.

Medic: I don't fuckin know. German. His race is Germany. The whole country. You ask him his race because his skin is very swarthy so you can't tell whether he's a really tan white guy or a weirdly light black guy. He's a pacific islander/white mix, but he actually barely knows. He'll remember his mother was Polynesian and go Oh. I forgor [Insert skull emoji and a facebook minion meme about mortality}.

Heavy: Black/white mix. He got his mother's beauty marks and his dad's bulkiness. Weird genes, very light but he has very pronounced black facial features. Big nose, big lips, high cheekbones. He gets asked if he's albino more than you would think. People actually don't expect him to have such a heavy Siberian accent because you expect white Vodka twink or white vodka dad that sneezes real fucking hard to have that much of a accent, not the guy that looks like he came out of a Nella Larsen book.

OH MY FUCK I'M DONE.

[wanderlust-----witch]

3, 7, 12 and 20! polytheist asks >:D

Oh you want me to THINK? You want me to use my BRAIN??? You are EVIL Cheshi lol

3: Is your practice more ritualistic or casual? What does it look like?

Oh my practice is extremely casual. I always hated the strict religious upbringing I had. "You do it this way, or else!". Nah fam, that's not cool. Everyone is gonna have their own way to worship, have faith, and perform religion (Yes I believe religion is a performance, but that's for another time lol). Anyways, I don't generally do much in the way of ritual because that's so much fucking work. I prefer just kinda chilling with Nyx on the full moon and calling it a night lol.

7: What does your ideal altar look like?

Chaotic, unhinged, and personal. I don't need it to be set up perfectly or invoke certain vibes, unless trash fire goblin is a vibe lmao. I really just put whatever on my altar I think fits. Right now, unfortunately, my altar isn't exactly what I want, because I don't really have space and the last time I set up an altar, Goose knocked it over. She was a brand new baby then, but even so I'd rather play it safe. I have this great cabinet at my parents house I plan on repainting and using when we have a house of our own. Its a really great size, glass doors so I can see what's inside, and bonus: cat's won't break any glass bottles on my altar lol. Rn I just have this very cue little moon shelf about 3 inches wide on a windowsill.

12: How important is mythology in your practice? How much credit do you give it?

I mean, mythology is the sourcework of all of my beliefs. I wouldn't have found Nyx, Hekate, Athena, and Artemis without Greek mythology, Bast without Egyptian mythology, or Loki without Norse mythology. Do their stories have any bearing on my beliefs? Not really. Them being the deities of their respective realms is all I really need. I know Nyx as the night, Hekate as magic, Athena as wisdom and intelligence, Artemis as the protectress, Bast as the keeper of cats, and Loki as chaos. How I interact with them is more based on my needs, versus what they have "done" in the myths that survived. Myths aren't any bit literal, just like any other religious text. We as humans are always interpreting things based on our own preconceived notions, our own beliefs, and that's not always what the original source intended. In fact, I'd argue that any human interpretation of the divine is automatically wrong. No single human belief can 100% be accurate. We will all have our own ideas of how things work. I, as a singular person, should not put any undue influence on myths that I personally think are worth "more" just because they are considered to be valid religious texts (cough cough Christians and the Bible cough cough). Myths are stories. They're fun, its fun to imagine our deities in various human scenarios. But the Divine are much more complex than their myths. I give the myths the same level of credibility I would any other that indirectly influenced my way of viewing the world. I wouldn't be who I am without the sum of the things I've read and learned over the years.

20: List a few of the deities you worship and associate each with a quote you think represents them best!

Oh lordy, you're killin me with this one Chesh lol.

Nyx: "I see the moon and the moon sees me/Nyx bless the moon and Nyx bless me" (see what I did there lmao?)

Bast: Specifically the same noise my cat makes when shes singing in the mirror. That it that's the quote lol.

Athena: All that bullshit about "tomato is a fruit but you don't put it in a fruit salad" lol. Also "Ho don't do it... oh my god" for whenever I do something (even mildly) foolish lol

Loki: OKAY SO little bit of backstory here: when I was just getting into my paganism, I was in a really shitty spot in life, physically, mentally, you name it. I came up with this phrase to help get me through it, and I generally proclaimed that anything wrong in my life was because of Loki (AS A JOKE, THEY LOVED IT). The quote was: May the deity who looks upon me in disdain look upon you with favor. It got me through shit, still does, and I still love Loki, even if they aren't my main deity anymore.

CHESHI YOU ROCK

[realswolestrider]

Long expositional tirade.

Please.

[Text is bright orange and bolded, but has been Edited for accessibility.]

Sorry about that. Funny slash fucked up part of having progeny in any form - they take after you. Every day I think, surely at this point, Rose's gotta be outta ways to stealthily forcefeed me my own patented brand of nuclear orange medicine, and every day I am simultaneously pleasantly surprised and mildly horrified to be proven wrong.

Anyway. I got my fuckin' pantaloons back and we're done with the thinly veiled psychological warfare for the time being. So I got a couple minutes to give the people what they want.

Normally I'd have concerns about giving away all my plans, let alone in such dramatic detail. Oh, you're a mastermind supervillain and you're just gonna give the hero all the information in a neatly packaged two minute monologue? You're makin' some big brain moves the rest of us couldn't even hope to understand.

I'm sure you're thinking the same thing. "Yes, Dirk." You hiss through your teeth while jacking it furiously to your own literary competence. "Fall prey to your own ego for the umpteenth time this week and hand me the key to your downfall on a silver platter." And I'm like. Okay. With an enigmatic level of placidity.

I'm doing stuff. Things. Anticipating your dissatisfaction with such a memey non-answer, I continue on. To be blunt, as of recently I've been doing jack shit of fuck all, except waiting around. I am an irrelevant number of Earth C's revolutions along its axis into this trip across the Virgo Supercluster to find a needle in a haystack - the perfect planet for my plans.

It's a lot like picking one particular grain of sand outta the Sahara, but with way more grains, and billions of miles between each one. So as you can imagine, it ain't exactly a mentally stimulating process.

You see, on the relevant scales of spacetime, life is a fluke. An anomaly. Calling it a rare occurrence is being generous. It's not just the size of the planet, or the presence of water. The incubation period for successful generations of the most widely accepted philosophical definition of life is longer than my dick, and twice as dangerous. For a species to develop a level of cognitive awareness enough to question its place in the universe, a lot of shit has to happen. A Rube Goldberg Fractal of an infinite amount of Rube Goldberg Machines.

Sometimes, life gets pretty damn far. Take a trip to Chicxulub in the Yucatán. Find a gift shop there, and buy a velociraptor plushie to the impact crater of the K-pg extinction.

You'll look like a fucking moron, because velociraptors went extinct long before then.

If the variants of life on Earth C are crabs in a bucket, humans and trolls just happened to be the crabs at the very top who got their claws around the rim and got the fuck outta Crab Dodge before everything went pear-shaped.

The mere fact any amount of us survived the Sburb extinction event boggles the mind. Natural generation is clumsy and random. Many times human and troll alike were held back due to biological or sociological flaws.

Intelligent design ain't fuckin' real.

But what if it was?