#but I try to be very deliberate in showing that she can speak in very different ways in very different situations

[belit0]

Hello! It's my first time asking something here, so I hope it's okay :)

How would Uchihas feel about s/o who has kinda bitchy exterior, is very bold and teasing. But inside she more like... tsundere? She actually nice and respectful inside to specific people she knows.

I hope it doesn't look that hard, thank you anyway, I love your headcanons🤧❤️

I'm back with requests!!! Sorry for taking so long, even more so being your first time, but here it is and I hope you love ittttt!💫

Indra

Indra does not spare such a person more than a glance—at first. Boldness means little to him, and teasing? Even less. If her sharp exterior is meant to provoke, it fails; he does not entertain the trivial posturing of others. His silence is more damning than words, a cold, assessing gaze that strips away every facade until all that remains is raw truth.

But if she proves herself—if that hidden core of sincerity, that quiet respect, surfaces in a way he deems genuine—then, perhaps, he acknowledges her. Not with words, not with indulgence, but in the rare way he allows someone into his presence without dismissal. The weight of his regard, heavy and absolute, is more than enough.

Still, he never entertains her games. If she teases him, he meets her with silence, the kind that crushes lesser beings beneath the realization that they are insignificant in his eyes. If she pushes too far—if her boldness becomes grating—she learns quickly that Indra does not tolerate disrespect, no matter how well-intentioned it might be beneath the surface.

Madara

Madara smirks. Not because he is amused, but because he recognizes the game for what it is. He is a strategist before anything else, and people—especially those who wear their boldness like armor—are puzzles to be unraveled.

He lets her play her part, lets her speak with all the teasing arrogance she can muster, and then, in a single sentence, dismantles every wall she has built. His words are careful, deliberate, slipping past her defenses and striking at the core of who she is. He has no patience for empty bravado, but if he finds substance beneath it—if she is someone who can match his wit, challenge his mind—then she earns his interest.

And if she thinks she can outmaneuver him? That her teasing can fluster or provoke? She soon realizes the depth of her mistake. Madara does not simply respond; he controls.

Izuna

Izuna loves it. A challenge, a game—exactly the kind of dynamic that keeps him entertained. He matches her teasing with ease, leaning into the flirtation, pushing until he has her right where he wants her. His charm is effortless, his confidence unshakable, and if she thinks she can get the better of him, she is in for a very rude awakening.

But more than that, he is curious. That softness she hides, that hidden warmth—he wants to see it, to coax it out, to unravel the layers beneath her sharp tongue and cocky exterior. He delights in every moment she slips, in every instance where her true nature peeks through despite her best efforts.

And when she finally lets her guard down? When she shows him that softer side, even if only for a moment? That’s when he grins the most—because he wins.

But that’s all it is—a victory. The thrill fades quickly, replaced by the restless need to chase the next challenge, the next woman, the next spark of excitement. He moves on before anything real can take root, leaving behind nothing but his lingering laughter and the ghost of his touch.

Obito

Obito is so bad at handling her. Her teasing flusters him immediately, turning him into a stammering mess, eyes darting away, hands fumbling over nothing. He tries to fire back, to match her boldness, but the words come out wrong, awkward, unconvincing. She has him wrapped around her finger without even trying.

But the moment he sees her real self—the kindness she hides, the respect she only gives to those who matter—his heart aches. Because that is something he understands. The need to hide softness beneath courage, the quiet fear of vulnerability. He recognizes it in her, and despite all his nervousness, despite all his failed attempts at keeping up with her teasing, he cares.

And he doesn’t know how to show it. He fumbles through his words, through his actions, through every moment of trying too hard not to care too much. But it is obvious. Painfully, undeniably obvious.

Shisui

Shisui enjoys it. Not just in the way Izuna does, but in the sense that he sees through her immediately. She can tease him all she wants, act as bold as she pleases—he only smiles, eyes warm with knowing amusement.

-Oh? That’s how you want to play it?- He chuckles, leaning just close enough to make her flustered instead. He turns the game on its head, makes her feel the weight of her own words, the heat of her own boldness. And then, when she least expects it, he calls her out—gently, kindly, in a way that makes it impossible to deny.

-You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.-

And that is it. No grand gestures, no need for elaborate schemes. Just the quiet understanding that he sees her, truly, and likes her all the same.

Itachi

Itachi endures her teasing the way one endures rain—apathetic, unbothered, utterly unaffected. She can prod, she can push, she can try every trick in her book, and he only responds in that same, calm monotone, giving her nothing to work with.

But beneath that, he observes. He notices—the way her teasing masks something more, the way she softens around certain people, the way her boldness is not arrogance, but rather, a shield. He does not comment on it, does not acknowledge it outright, but he understands.

And, in quiet moments, he acts on that understanding. A glance, a small gesture, a carefully placed remark that reveals just how much he has seen of her beneath the surface.

He never plays into her games. But if she ever needs someone who sees her, who understands without demanding more than she is willing to give—Itachi is there.

[vaguely-concerned]

huh. you know something I just consciously put together for the first time about caterina and lucanis' relationship is that through the game we get to hear them talk about each other a lot, but we get very few chances to hear them speak with each other at any length at all. contrast it with other companions whose storylines have elements of 'believed lost/long time no see relative returns!' like bellara and davrin, where we get to see both of them have several pretty in-depth conversations with cyrian and eldrin. hell I think even rook talks with varric longer in the regret prison scene than we ever get to see lucanis and caterina interact directly.

(and when we do see them interact, it's mostly one-sided -- it is, perhaps unsurprisingly, caterina who is doing most of the talking and giving all the orders, as he ruefully observes is her wont after murder of crows. including jumpscaring him with 'you're first talon now btw' and the shocked pikachu face in five acts he goes through in response lmao. perhaps it's more accurate to say that she talks at him and he reacts, than that they talk to each other much.)

it has such an interesting effect too, because in deliberately denying us direct insight or experience and only having this mosaic of description from each of them to go on, as well as forcing us to pay attention to the negative space of what is carefully not said, it's evocative along the same principle that you never actually show the monster in a horror film. if you've read the wigmaker job you have a clearer image of the more uh. worrying elements at play here going in, but there is something fascinatingly insidious and naturalistic in the way it's 'hushed up' in the game itself. she has his complete loyalty both as a member of her house and, more importantly, that of an abused child to a parent figure. he readily admits several times that she's a difficult person to live with, an even more difficult person to be loved by ("even for me. and I was her favourite")... but never once does he actively blame her nor truly conceptualize that he has every right to do so (that he can be angry with her and still love her, because whether he should or not he unavoidably does), or that she might have acted differently than she did, that she made a choice every time to hurt him. even affectionately he speaks of her as a force of nature, an act of god -- something that can't be reasoned or pleaded with or resisted, something you can only hope to navigate with as little pain as possible and pray to survive. let yourself get carried away by the riptide, resisting it will only make it worse. you don't compromise with a hurricane, you just try to find the best shelter you can and cross your fingers while you wait for it to pass and be calm again.

love is that hurricane. you do whatever she asks. you earn her continued affection day by day by never letting her down. you only want the things she tells you it's okay to want and cut everything else away preemptively. ("A wyvern tooth dagger?? I loved wyverns as a boy --Caterina would never let me have one of these, though." and as we have all wept and gnashed our teeth over, it never even OCCURS to him that he's a like thirty-five year old adult man who can buy himself any dagger he wants at any time. she said he couldn't have one. so he'll never have one. that's just how it works. and maybe if Illario could just accept that and find his peace with it like I have, this whole thing wouldn't be so difficult. oh lucanis.)

such is the price -- and the cost -- of being loved by her, it's a loan on which the interest will never stop piling up. you have to keep paying it down in perfection every day if you want to keep it. who got the worse deal there: the grandson who has abandoned everything else in life to live up to that and mostly succeeded, until the day he's so burned out and broken it threatens to no longer be an option, or the grandson who can never seem to scrape together enough worth in her eyes no matter how he begs, borrows or steals it, how he hustles and plays dirty?

one of the worst things that can happen to anyone is to be loved by a selfish god. another one of the worst things that can ever happen to anyone is to not be loved by a selfish god. (hope that helps, boys!) even in betraying everything else, Illario can't bring himself to hurt his grandmother, because that would defeat the whole point. who would he defiantly be proving himself worthy to, without her. in love, devotion, submission, hatred, frustration, bitterness, everything is defined in relation to her, you can spot the gravitational force of it through how the dellamorte family move through time and space. she -- her love and regard and attention -- is still the sun both of their worlds orbit around, even as adults. the game might never tell you outright 'she used to beat and starve them growing up. for their own good you see, so they'd be strong (and broken down enough for her to build them up again however she wanted but I'm sure that's incidental)', but if you know even a little bit about how these dynamics can work the writing is on the wall everywhere you look and all the more unsettling for it.

follow lucanis' freeze-logic and fraught interpersonal catch 22 irreconcilable mixed emotions problems back far enough, looong before the ossuary entered the picture, and you start to see caterina's ghost around every fucking corner. she is so proud of him. (well, she would be. she made him. she forged exactly the knife she needed and it rests willingly, devotedly, in her hands, it would return to her every time because it doesn't know love as anything but to be a knife. his tama never taught him how to be anything else. his biggest fear with her is that she won't even want him back, the way he is now.) to the best ability of her soul, whatever parts of it survived a lifetime of crow politics and 'five children, eight grandchildren, only Illario and me left now', I think she really does loves him. he certainly loves her, with all the sincerity and artless desperation of a child, of the little boy he was once. and what she's done to him (and to illario, for all his shitty gremlin scar-ass antics lol) is awful. the harm is real, and the love is real, and trying to find a way for these two truths to exist in the same space is driving all three of them their own individualized forms of insane. you know. the way only family can and so often does lol.

through implications and short glimpses and having to put the pieces together yourself, you can have the feeling that there is very genuine mutual love and attachment in this relationship... and that beneath that there is something so profoundly wrong. and the sneaking '...oh shit it gets worse the longer I think about it' horror of that is more effective for me at least than the stark in-your-face presentation of the facts of the matter could have been. the love is here. the love is here. it only ever makes it worse.

[knoepfl]

Can you do Legoshi from Beastars with an extremely pessimistic, cynical, introverted, and antisocial fem! black cat reader of very few words who he meets when she's scouted as the new head writer since the President of the Drama was extremely impressed by her near-perfect grades?

Shadows and Stars

Characters:

1. Legoshi: A shy, introspective gray wolf in the drama club, empathetic but socially awkward.

2. Black Cat (Head Writer): A reserved, sharp-tongued new member with a guarded yet intense demeanor.

3. Louis: The confident, demanding red deer president of the drama club.

---

Trigger Warnings:

1. Social Anxiety: Depictions of awkward and tense interactions. 2. Loneliness: Themes of isolation and guarded behavior. 3. Stress: Characters under creative and interpersonal pressure. 4. Emotional Tension: Subtle, intense dynamics between characters.

Masterlist

Words: 1535

--- The morning light trickled through the half-open windows of the drama clubroom. Legoshi shifted uncomfortably as he adjusted a prop tree, his mind preoccupied with a myriad of thoughts. The sudden announcement from Louis the previous week had taken everyone by surprise—a new head writer had been chosen.

She had arrived earlier that day, slipping into the room with all the presence of a shadow. Legoshi watched her from the corner of his eye as she sat, barely speaking, her sharp gaze fixed on the scattered scripts before her. A black cat with an air of indifference, she radiated a quiet intensity that made even the most confident club members uneasy.

“Her grades are unmatched,” Louis had explained with his usual brisk tone. “She’s exactly what we need to elevate this production.”

Legoshi’s tail flicked nervously as he approached her.

“Uh... hi. I’m Legoshi,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

The cat glanced up briefly, her green eyes narrowing slightly before she returned to her work. “Okay.”

It wasn’t rude, but it wasn’t warm either. It was… curt, like she had decided he wasn’t worth more than a single syllable. He shifted awkwardly.

“So… um, you’re the new writer?” he tried again, his ears twitching as the silence stretched uncomfortably.

“Yes.”

Another sharp, clipped answer. Legoshi’s tail drooped. He wasn’t good at conversations on the best of days, but this was like trying to talk to a brick wall. Still, there was something about her that intrigued him—something about the way she seemed to carry a world of thoughts behind those short answers.

“Is there… anything you need help with?” he asked, trying to be helpful.

The cat finally put down her pen and looked at him fully. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was calm and measured. “No. I’m used to doing things myself.”

Legoshi nodded, unsure if that was a dismissal. “Okay… I’ll just, uh, be over here then.”

She didn’t reply, her attention already back on the papers in front of her. He slunk back to his corner, silently berating himself for his awkwardness. But as the hours passed, he couldn’t help but watch her work.

Her movements were precise, her focus unyielding. She scribbled notes in the margins of the script, her handwriting neat and deliberate. Occasionally, she would pause to glance around the room, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

It was Louis who finally broke the ice—if only unintentionally.

“Legoshi, stop lurking and make yourself useful!” the deer snapped, gesturing toward the new head writer. “She needs the last script drafts from the archives. Take her.”

Legoshi’s ears flattened, but he obeyed. He shuffled over to her, mumbling, “Uh, we need to get the drafts. I can show you where they are.”

She stood without a word, gathering her things before following him.

The walk to the archives was silent. Legoshi felt like he should say something, but every time he glanced at her, she seemed lost in thought, her expression unreadable.

When they reached the dusty shelves of the archives, she finally broke the silence.

“This must be exhausting for you,” she said, her voice low but unexpectedly soft.

Legoshi blinked. “What do you mean?”

“All this social interaction,” she replied, glancing at him sideways. “It seems... draining.”

He hesitated. “It can be,” he admitted, “but I like helping people.”

She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as though she understood. They worked in silence for a while, sorting through the papers.

“You’re... different,” she said suddenly, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

“Different how?”

She didn’t answer right away, her eyes focused on the script in her hands. Finally, she murmured, “Most people talk too much.”

Legoshi chuckled softly, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. “I guess I’m not most people then.”

For the first time, her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. It was brief, but it was there.

Maybe, Legoshi thought, as they continued to work together, she wasn’t as unreachable as she seemed.

---

The warm glow of the afternoon sun cast soft streaks across the dusty floorboards of the drama club’s archive room. Legoshi’s ears twitched nervously as he glanced at the black cat beside him. She was leaning against one of the towering shelves, her sleek frame almost melding into the shadows, her sharp green eyes scanning the scripts she had pulled from the stacks.

The air felt heavy. Legoshi shuffled his feet, his large claws scraping lightly against the floor. He wanted to speak, to break the suffocating silence, but her rigid posture and piercing gaze kept him rooted in place.

“Legoshi,” she said suddenly, her voice low and deliberate.

He flinched, startled. “Y-Yes?”

“You’re breathing too loud.” She didn’t look up, her tail swishing once before curling tightly around her.

“Oh. S-Sorry.” He ducked his head, his ears flattening as he tried to stifle the deep, instinctive breaths his body demanded.

For a moment, she said nothing, her expression blank as her eyes flicked between the pages of the script. Then, with a sigh, she set the stack down and turned to him fully, her hands resting loosely in her pockets.

“You’re... not what I expected,” she murmured, her tone unreadable.

Legoshi blinked, his tail curling awkwardly behind him. “What do you mean?”

“Most people are loud. Obnoxious.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze narrowing as she studied him. “You’re... quiet. And you don’t stare.”

Legoshi rubbed the back of his neck, his claws grazing the fur there. “I-I mean, it’s rude to stare. And I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable…” His voice trailed off, his body hunching slightly under her scrutiny.

Her lips twitched—a movement so subtle it might have been missed entirely. “Not bad,” she muttered, almost to herself.

“Uh… thanks?” Legoshi offered hesitantly, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

She turned back to the scripts, her movements fluid and deliberate. The air between them settled into a tense quiet, though it felt less sharp than before.

---

Later, back in the drama clubroom, Louis was barking orders at the cast, his voice sharp and commanding as he directed a rehearsal. Legoshi lingered near the edge of the room, holding a box of props. His eyes darted to the black cat, who had returned to her corner with the same detached grace, her pen scratching lightly against the pages of her notebook.

Legoshi couldn’t help but watch her, his large, gray ears twitching slightly. There was something captivating about her—how still she was, like a predator lying in wait. She wrote with an intensity that made the rest of the bustling room feel irrelevant.

A loud clatter jolted him from his thoughts.

“Legoshi!” Louis barked, his sharp amber eyes boring into him. “Stop staring and do something useful.”

“S-Sorry!” Legoshi stammered, his claws fumbling with the box as he scrambled to set it down. His tail curled tightly around his leg as he ducked his head, trying to make himself smaller.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the black cat glance up, her green eyes briefly flicking to Louis before returning to her work.

---

Later that day, as the club emptied out, Legoshi found himself walking beside her again. She didn’t speak, her footsteps soft and deliberate against the pavement.

“I, uh, hope today wasn’t too stressful,” Legoshi offered, his voice barely above a murmur.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Why do you care?”

Legoshi hesitated, his shoulders hunching as he struggled to find the right words. “I… I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”

Her ears flicked back, and she looked away. “I’m used to stress. It’s not a big deal.”

He nodded slowly, his claws tapping lightly against his thighs as they walked. “I guess… but you don’t have to handle everything alone. Sometimes it’s okay to let people help.”

She stopped suddenly, turning to face him. Her gaze was sharp, her tail flicking behind her. “Why? Why does it matter to you?”

Legoshi froze, his ears flattening as he struggled under her intense stare. “B-Because…” He swallowed, his large hands fidgeting nervously. “I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t fit in. And… I think it’s nice to have someone who understands.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the smallest crack in her composed demeanor. But just as quickly, she looked away, her shoulders tensing.

“I don’t need anyone to understand,” she said flatly, though her voice was quieter than before.

Legoshi tilted his head, his tail swishing gently behind him. “Maybe not,” he said softly, “but it’s okay if you do.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The fading light of the evening painted the campus in warm hues, and the air between them felt heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re strange, Legoshi.”

He blinked. “I-I am?”

“Yes,” she said simply, her lips twitching again in that almost-smile. “But it’s not the worst thing.”

Legoshi couldn’t stop the small wag of his tail as he followed her back to the dorms, the faintest hint of hope blooming in his chest.

Maybe, he thought, some connections didn’t need words—they just needed time.

---

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: You’ve Got Sleeping Issues

ᶻz Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

‎܂ ｡ ༢ medicine isn’t enough i need someone to knock me out with a shovel (for all my insomniacs <3)

Ghost

Oh, what do two insomniacs do with each other on restless nights?

He used to be alone on these nights, listening to the ticking of the clock as the hours cruelly pass by without granting rest

Now you both sit in silence watching the reborning sun and it’s kind of enjoyable now

Pulls out a bottle of NyQuil and takes turns taking shots until either you or him or both simultaneously pass out

Soap

When he’s with you he wants to do everything with you; including sleeping

He’s visibly upset that you can’t sleep but he’s not mat at you, he’s mad at whatever prevents you to cuddle next to him under a heap of blanket and pillows at night

You’re often tossing and turning in bed, fidgeting with your hands as you pace around the bedroom that it wakes him

You try and coax him to go back to sleep but he’s up and determined to stay up with you bingewatching tv shows, trying weird snack combinations, etc…

Gaz

Tries out everything to get you to sleep

From adjusting your routine to diet choices before bed

He knows you hate taking pills and it’s the last thing you resort to by doctor’s orders

He adjusts your pillows and blankets on your side of the bed, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as you drift off to sleep

Gently cradles your head as he lays you down on your back

And doesn’t sleep until he hears your breaths change and the pulsation of your heart, at ease knowing you’re finally resting

Alejandro

You have terrible nightmares that prevent you from getting a peaceful sleep

Anytime you awaken in a panic; cold sweat, hands seizing and tugging at your shirt, feeling your heart thumping wildly in your chest

He wakes up right away upon hearing your quickened breaths

“It’s alright, I’m right here cariño”

Touching foreheads, light touches on your arms and neck to sooth you, holds you close to him, intertwining fingers

Taking you to the window where you can observe the moon, “see the moon? Look at how she shines… focus on her lustre.”

Phillip Graves

Turning over in bed, his arms searching for you only to find you in a slouched position

“Hard time falling asleep doll?” He drags out his words, words slurring together from having just woken up

When you whimper and nod he pulls you down with him, his hands pulling you against his chest and placing sweet and comforting kisses on your head as he caresses your hair, softly humming

Spooning you is one of his fave ways to feel your body against his, wants to feel as if he’s protecting you and wishes he could lull your mind

Keegan

Knows you’re likely to fall asleep at random times of the day due to fatigue

With a tap of his finger on your wrist he’ll signal for you to rest your head on his lap

He’ll take to trailing his hand up and down your back, following the outline of your spine with his index finger, slower and more deliberately

Speaks very low and softly to give you reassurance he’s there, leans down and places a soft kiss on your cheek once you’ve fallen asleep

König

He takes one look at you and immediately knows you did not sleep

And yet, even if you watched the moon descend and the sun rise your cherub eyes are as loving and warm as they meet his

Whilst he was asleep, you inched closed and wrapped his strong arms around your body

Now he’s awoken to holding what he considers dear, you, enfolded in his arms gently

Cuddles and stays curled up next to you until you drift off to sleep, even if it’s only for a little bit

Horangi

At night, before bed he prepares teas, warms milk and anything else he can think of to get you to sleep

As daybreak enfolds he finds you yet again with dimmed eyes, signaling you did not sleep

You feel as if a river rushes through your bones as he strokes your back in circles, whispering softly in your ear

The soft, golden glow of the sun makes this scenery seem dreamy as your eyelids feel heavier

He watches until you fall asleep and subtly slips out of your arms, tucking you into bed and closing the curtains to let you sleep in and catch up on your sleep

Nikto

He’s either out like a rock or is tossing and turning unable to quiet his mind

In the silence, thinking you’re asleep, he reaches out to your form to engulf in your warmth only to find you awake when he glances at your face

You open your eyes and he freezes, already starting to retreat before you clutch his hand close, not letting go

“Sorry…for waking you” he mumbles, before you tell him you can’t sleep either

He’s silent for a moment before he softly says, “come closer” so he’s spooning you as you inhale his scent and fall asleep, your body rising with every breath; you’re like his stuffed animal 〜(⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝)♡

[vi0lentquiche]

Bryan Fuller on The D-Con Chamber podcast

Some actual revelations here, I gotta say!

We went to a lot of actors and they all said no, and Mads said he wanted to do it. And I was like, here's a person who wants to do it, who is amazing, and they're like, he's sort of weird? He just seems very Euro-weird, shouldn't he be sexier? And I'm like, he's sexy as fuck! There's nary a sexier!

The casting process is so degrading for everybody, but I reached out to Mads and said, "Would you audition? I hate to ask you this, but I just can't get them there." And he said of course, came in and auditioned, was amazing, and they went, nah, he's sort of creepy. ??HE'S EATING PEOPLE. And finally the last person had said no and I called Jen Salke who was running it and said, "Jen, I have to write this, I have to craft this show and believe in it. I believe in him, that he can do this, I see him in the role, it's hard for me to see anybody else." And she said, "I trust you, I trust your vision, let's do it." So that was her response. Her boss's response was, "Well, you got what you wanted, you're on your own." And they halved our marketing budget. It was a little spiteful.

Jen was amazing, she kept us on the air although we didn't have great ratings, but Jen, who is now running Amazon, thought the show was great. They were paying nothing for it, the licensing fee was the smallest that they had. And the show was very cheap, our budget was 2.25 million in the first season (we turned everything dark so you couldn't see how cheap everything looked), second season was 2.5, third season was 3.2, so it was a very economic show, and our scripts were like 33 pages long. Because all that atmosphere, and also Gillian Anderson made the most fantastic unnerving choice to speak very deliberately, so you could give Gillian a page of dialogue and it was 6 minutes of screentime, and you don't want to cut away, because she grabs you and doesn't let go.

So it was economic for lots of reasons. But Jen said, "I'll keep you on the air, it doesn't cost us anything, do whatever you want. Do the show that you want to do." And NBC didn't give us a ton of notes! The Standards and Practices was one of the best relationships that I had. Joanna was our S&P executive, and I would say, "Hey, Joanna ☺️, we have to have a guy cut off his face and feed it to dogs ☺️ howwww do we do that?" and she'd say, "Just make the blood black and turn down the lights." The only thing she didn't know how we could do was, Eddie Izzard had hooked someone's intestines up to a ceiling fan while they were still alive, so when somebody came into the room and turned on the lights the ceiling would disembowel them. And she said, "I just don't know how you're gonna do this!" and production said, "We can't afford it, you get one shot and if you don't get it there's no way for us to do a reset." So she was willing to let us try the ceiling fan disembowelment, she was the coolest lady. My assistant at the time made a book of all the S&P emails, like "When you're doing this please keep in mind that the blood needs to be black," because the redder the blood the less likely that you can put it on TV. So if you darken the blood, even if it's a dark burgundy, you can get away with it. The food that looks like blood is fine, because you're gonna eat it and it looks like meat, and Jose Andres is helping you out.

Hannibal was creatively a great experience because the stakes were so low that Jen was like, "How great for me to be able to tell you to do whatever you want!" We should have been cancelled after the first season, because our ratings were so low. I think we had 3 million, and that was at a time when 3 million wasn't enough. No, we started with 5 or 6 and it got down to 3 by the end of the run. But it was great that she gave us the opportunity, and was a great executive who supported the show when her bosses didn't because we didn't cast who they wanted.

Pushing Daisies was actually more of a struggle creatively with the network, they would say it was too weird and to make it more mainstream. And they were probably right, we would probably have had more numbers, but it wouldn’t be my show. I really don't mean to be difficult with a lot of executives, but when I resist those notes it's becase I don't know how to do them, like my brain doesn't compute. I've gotten better the older I've gotten. I've also gotten more like, it's perhaps not a hill to die on? Whereas before I'd go, noo, the art must speak for itself! It's that singular understanding for something, where it comes out and you accept it for how it is. And it's probably a little bit about being raised in a Catholic environment where you're told how to be, it’s the rebellion, and it's the intrinsic queerness of choosing something that's different, or relating to something that's different and that being a guiding principle more than an edict.

[amara-scott]

helloo!

i hope you're having a great day!

i want to make a request with mattheo? reaaaaally fluffy everything?

like, yk he gets into fights. lots of fights. and so, he and reader are like acquaintances, until she sees him fighting with someone in a corridor, and she tries to break the fight then takes him away to take care of his wounds and everything. after his fights, like he goes searching for reader to clean up his wounds. one day he gets into a fight and reader asks what this one was about and he said that he simply got angry at someone, later on, reader overhears the person speaking that mattheo beat them up because they wanted to take reader out. so, they discover their feelings (idk, maybe you can do that part real cheesy with some angst?)

anyway, that's all, ik it's really long, but if you can do it, i'd be so grateful

have a good day and sending the best regards and love!

Wounded heart.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Ravenclaw!female Reader

The first time you saw Mattheo Riddle after one of his fights wasn’t a deliberate encounter—it wasn’t supposed to be anything at all. You hadn’t been looking for him; you’d just wanted a quiet spot to read, a moment of peace in the midst of the chaos that was Hogwarts. But then you found him, slouched against a bookshelf in a quiet corner of the library, his knuckles bloodied and bruised, his jaw cut open with a fresh wound, as if the world itself had thrown him into a battle.

You froze. He hadn’t even noticed you yet, too caught up in trying to wrap a torn piece of cloth around his hand with shaking fingers, biting his lip in frustration. The sight of him, usually so confident and untouchable, looking vulnerable like this—something about it made your chest tighten.

Without thinking, you stepped forward.

"Let me help."

Mattheo didn’t flinch or react at first, but when your hand brushed against his, he looked up. His eyes, stormy and unreadable, flicked to yours for a brief second. There was no sneer, no smirk—just that unsettling calm.

"You’re going to help me, sunshine?" His voice was rough, but it had a dangerous edge. "Why?"

You ignored the bite in his tone. “Because you’re clearly not doing a very good job of it yourself.”

He didn’t argue further, though his lips pulled into a tight line. You took his hand gently, carefully undoing the makeshift bandage. His skin was raw, scraped in places, and blood still oozed from some of the cuts. You felt a surge of something—anger, frustration, maybe something deeper—but you didn’t let it show. You simply took out your wand and murmured a healing charm.

It took a moment before Mattheo finally spoke again, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “You don’t have to do this.”

You didn’t look up, focusing on his hands as the cuts healed, knitting themselves back together. “And yet, here I am.”

The silence stretched between you, but there was an undeniable tension, a crackling energy in the air that neither of you acknowledged. When you finished, you let go of his hand and stood back, eyes finally meeting his. He didn’t move, still sitting against the bookshelf like some kind of wounded king, his posture relaxed despite everything.

"Let's not make a habit of this," he muttered, his voice softer now but still sharp in its own way.

You raised an eyebrow. “What, you getting into fights?”

His lips twitched, almost like he was fighting back a smirk. “You're right, doesn't sound very likely.”

And then, without another word, he stood up and left, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the library.

—

It became a pattern. Not a routine, not a friendship—not even a connection. Just moments where, after every fight, Mattheo found his way to you. Always in a quiet, hidden place where no one would see him in such a state—bruised, bleeding, looking like he had something to prove. And every time, you found yourself healing him. You’d never had a real conversation with him before, not one that went beyond the usual sarcastic remarks or terse exchanges. You weren’t even sure why he came to you. Maybe it was the way you never asked questions, never pried. You just healed.

But you couldn’t deny the way his presence lingered afterward—the way he would lean against the wall, his dark eyes watching you like you were the only thing worth seeing in that moment. His usual smugness wasn’t there. It was just him. And you. And the tension that hummed between you.

The first time you truly understood why Mattheo Riddle kept getting into fights, it wasn’t something you figured out on your own. No, it took someone else to unravel the truth, a truth you had been too blind to see all along.

It was another late evening, just after dinner, when one of his friends was asking for you. Again. Lorenzo, quite disheveled, came running down the table in the great hall and told you to follow him. It's because of Mattheo, he said. With a sigh you followed him into the dungeons, entering the Slytherin common room for the first time. And there he was, sitting on the edge of a couch, bloodied knuckles clutched tightly at his side, his face bruised in places you hadn’t seen before. He looked like he hadn’t even tried to hide it this time, not bothering to wear the usual mask of indifference. Lorenzo was pulled away and left you to it.

"Mattheo," you muttered, your voice a mix of frustration and concern, "you really should go see Madam Pomfrey."

He shook his head sharply, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "I don’t need her," he said, his voice tight with the same defiance you had grown accustomed to. "I only need you."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried not to let it show. Instead, you knelt beside him, setting your bag down and pulling out your wand to heal the worst of the damage. His gaze never wavered from you as you worked, the silence between you thick with unspoken words. You weren’t sure what kept pulling him back to you, but you weren’t going to question it now. Not when he needed you.

After a few moments, his wounds were mostly healed, but he didn’t seem to want to get up. He slumped back against the couch, staring at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes. You stepped back, about to ask if he wanted anything else, when you heard the soft click of the door opening.

Pansy Parkinson walked in, looking somewhat flustered, her eyes immediately locking onto Mattheo. She walked over to him quickly, concern flashing across her face when she saw the state he was in.

"Mattheo!" she hissed. "What the hell is wrong with you? You need Madam Pomfrey now—stop being stubborn."

Mattheo didn’t respond, his eyes still focused on you. Pansy’s gaze flickered between the two of you before she sighed, clearly exasperated. She crossed her arms, looking at him with a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

"I don’t know why you keep doing this," she muttered, more to herself than to him, but you caught the words. There was a strange undertone to them, something you didn’t quite understand.

As Mattheo finally stood, his movements slow, he winced, but he didn’t flinch. His hand brushed past yours in the faintest of touches, and you watched as he made his way to the stairs leading to the boys' dorms. Pansy followed after him, pausing to give you one last, lingering look. You had just finished packing away your things when she suddenly spoke again, this time more pointedly.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

You blinked, confusion settling over you. "Know what?"

She sighed, a mixture of pity and exasperation in her eyes. "Why he keeps getting into these stupid fights. Why he’s always so reckless."

You felt your stomach twist. “What do you mean? I thought he was just... angry. But I’ve never heard him really talk about it.”

Pansy’s gaze softened, and she leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "It’s because of you, dumbass."

You blinked at her, your mind spinning. “What?”

"Mattheo doesn’t do this for fun," she continued, the words slipping out as if she had been holding them back for too long. "Every time someone even looks at you the wrong way, or tries to get too close, he fights. Not because he’s angry, but because he’s possessive. He's trying to keep everyone away from you—because he wants you."

Her words hit you like a slap to the face. You tried to process them, but it was too much, too sudden. "No," you managed to say, shaking your head. "That can’t be it."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at her lips. “You really don’t get it, do you? Mattheo has been into you for ages. I don’t know how you didn’t see it. He doesn't care about getting hurt. He just doesn't want anyone else touching what he sees as his. It’s not about the fights—it's about you."

The world around you seemed to slow as you processed her words, each one ringing in your ears, louder than the last. It’s about you. The weight of it crushed down on your chest. You hadn’t understood the pattern, the constant tension that had been building between the two of you. It wasn’t just the way he came to you, the way he let you take care of him—no, it was much deeper than that. Mattheo wasn’t angry because of some random skirmishes. He was angry because you were the one thing he felt he had to protect, even if it meant tearing apart anyone who dared to get too close.

For the first time, the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

You exhaled shakily, your mind a swirl of confusion and disbelief. "Why didn’t he just say something?"

Pansy shrugged, her expression softening. "Mattheo’s never been one for words, especially not about feelings. But trust me, he’s made it pretty clear. If you wanted him to stop fighting, you’d have to stop letting him fight for you."

You stood there, staring after Mattheo, still processing the revelation. There was a certain heaviness in your chest now—one you hadn’t expected. And as you walked out of the room, still reeling, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. Because if Pansy was right... then this was just the beginning.

—

Your heart pounded as you stalked down the halls toward the library the following day, having had plenty of time to contemplate confronting Mattheo. On thursdays he usually spent some time in a corner where you also encountered him for the first time. Rounding the corner you see him. He didn’t even flinch when you entered, but you could feel the tension rise between you.

“You beat people up—because of me,” you said, voice cold with something sharp, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel before.

Mattheo didn’t blink. “They deserved it.”

Your hands curled into fists. “You can’t just—”

“Because that git thought he had a chance with you?” Mattheo interrupted, his voice lowering, standing up and stepping closer to you. “Because he didn’t know you were already—mine?”

The words hit you like a curse. Mine. The possessiveness in his voice made your stomach drop, but you didn’t back down.

“I—I’m not—”

“You are,” he said, cutting you off, his eyes narrowing, lips curling into that smug grin you knew so well. “You just don’t know it yet.”

The space between you two was suffocating now, the tension so thick you could almost taste it. And before you could think better of it, before you could let logic override the impulsive urge, you grabbed him. Your fingers fisted in the collar of his shirt, and with a sharp tug, you pressed your lips to his, shutting down any protest he might have had.

It was rough. Desperate. His lips moved against yours like he had something to prove, his hands coming up to grip your waist, pulling you flush against him. You didn’t know if it was anger, frustration, or something else entirely that made it feel so real—but in that moment, it was everything. And when you pulled away, breathless, Mattheo’s forehead rested against yours, his grin back in full force.

“Took you long enough,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of teasing and satisfaction.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the smile that tugged at your lips. “Shut up, Riddle.”

He only laughed. “Not a chance.”

And from then on, the fights didn’t stop—but the aftermath did. Now, his bruises didn’t just end with your hands tending to him. Now, they ended with him holding you close, your lips pressing against the cuts and scrapes, the tension between you both still simmering, but now with an unspoken understanding. He was reckless, but you were his—whether he admitted it or not.

And maybe, just maybe, that made you feel like you were the one who was holding him together.

[szynkaaa]

The Shape of Monkey

EDIT 22/01/2025 @blackknight-kai has made some additional interesting observation about the shape of monkey and their fur placement with things that I previously missed, please check out her post for the details

xxx

Some of my friends were talking about the monkey design in Black Myth Wukong, in terms of how much of monkey features the DO/SWK has, and how we wished they devs added a bit more "monkey" ness to the DO, which then made me realize, the devs did do that, but just not for the "normal" game model that we use to play.

The anatomy here is pretty much very normal, the only few traits pointing at him being a monkey are his feet, tail, his face and his fur.

My friend (who doesn't even play BMW or knows about JTTW but is a certified monster fucker) said she doesn't count him as a monster because his shape is too human LOL

This is how he looks in Chapter 5 ending animation:

very human shaped.

which brings me back to the monkey that looks more like a monkey in the game

The Stone Monkey is a two phase we fight in the final boss battle, after we defeat him he breaks and out comes the Broken Shell of the Great Sage

After you finish the first playthrough, you get the Stone Monkey as a transformation, called the Azure Dome.

If you do the True Ending, you transform into the Azure Dome for the first time towering over monkeys and beat the shit out of the four heavenly kings and Erlang. Great fight 10/10

proprotionally speaking, his arms seems a bit longer, or least looks like it due to his big hands. His tails is also longer (don't have a screenshot of that unfortunately), and his ears are pointed. I also think that his mouth structure is a lot more monkey like with it being more pointed forward than his normal model.

Canonly, SWK can change his size into very big or very small, but I don't think in JTTW it was ever described that he had a Stone Monkey form. He is a stone monkey, or monkey born from stone.

I really love that the devs took it literal and created a form and transformation that looks like a monkey and you can see from his tecture that he is supposed to be made from stone

He punches people and also when he dodges he walks on all four. So I guess that is the closest to a monkey we will get from DO/SWK

Chapter 6 ending animation also goes with a more "monkey" like anatomy for Wukong's design

point ears, longer limbs, shorter legs. I love that they added the red face blush here too. His tail is never shown in the animation, but looking at his pilgrim outfit set and the pulge in his pants (no not that one), he probably hides his tail inside his pants. it's kind of a cute detail

The Old Monkey we see also has more human like proportions:

all the other monkeys in the background (beside DO) are more monkey.

Here are the models I pulled from the game

I also love that each monkey has a different fur "pattern", gives them more variety

This one we only see when you reach the normal ending, when the DO did not break the cycle and the headband is put back onto his head, we see this monkey in the fetal position and then it zooms out to the stone egg and sad credit song plays. You can watch the clip here.

I think it's clear that the devs are trying to show an unbron monkey still in the womb, the stone egg/birth stone being the womb in this case, waiting for the next DO to come and finish SWK's revival.

I guess the stages of growth could be like this:

Why did Game Science went for a more human-like approach for the Monkey in terms of design?

We don't know the answer, it was never mentioned anything in the game about it and I have not come across any interviews about it yet.

I do think that the choice to make the Stone Monkey more monkey like and the "normal" monkey more human like was a deliberate choice by the devs.

For the animation, I believe the Game science gave the studio some references on "hey this is how our monkey looks like" and then let the studio do its own thing style-wise, hence why in Ch. 5 animation monkey has a more human like anatomy but ch. 6 comes with more monkey like anatomy

My personal HC is that SWK has a more human-like anatomy to show that he has a high level of cultivation maybe? We have seen in the game there are few yaoguais that are able to take on human appearances, such as the Pingping and the 5th spider sister. And yes, I also hc that SWK does have a monkey-form too that he can transform into.

I'm really begging for Game Science to release an artbook with concept art and background info on why they did this and that

[yuri-is-online]

The Quiet Part (Azul, Jade, and Trey x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, in-law fishing (Azul and Jade) vs sibling smack down (Trey), if you liked this please check my master list here.

Azul

"Well aren't you just darling!" You fold your clipboard just a bit closer to your chest, you don't think this excitable plump lady is intending to intimidate you but she is all up in your personal space. Her pearlescent hair frames her face perfectly, nicely complementing her large black hat that reminds you of a Victorian aristocrat on her way to the opera. She just lacks the fancy cigarette case.

"Hey lady back off my hench human! You're spooking 'em!" Grim pouts with his hands on his hips but only succeeds in changing her attention to him.

"And you must be the dire beast! Simply marvelous I didn't think Zuzu would let me have a chance to see you two at all." She sighs, clearly happy in a vaguely sinister way where her familiar looking smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Oh where are my manners? I'm-"

"Mother!" A very flusterd octopus runs, well more like flails, his way up the main street towards the woman your speaking with, but she doesn't do more than wave before returning to her conversation with you.

"-Mrs. Ashengrotto! Say darling are you free for a bit?" She's back to crowding you once again while Azul moves in between the two of you. "I have been so looking forward to meeting my poopsy's friends."

"Mother please, the prefect is extremely busy. There's no need for them to show you around campus, what sort of son would I be if I-"

"That's besides the point." Mrs. Ashengrotto's smile doesn't fade but the warmth of her voice most certainly does. Still Azul remains firm, extending an arm to keep you from moving towards his mother, or maybe to keep her from closing in on you? "You can't expect me to not be curious! You never have written such glowing things about-"

"That's enough mother." Grim yanks on your pant leg and points towards the path to Sam's shop.

"It is not poopsy you can't just ask for advice and then refuse every opportunity to use it." Mrs. Ashengrotto huffs in disappointment and elegantly shakes her finger as you and Grim begin to slowly inch away.

"I have no idea what it is you are talking about mother," Azul pushes his glasses further up his face, silently pleading with you to run faster "and I am certain the prefect doesn't either so please, allow me to escort you to the Monstro Lounge that you have been so eager to see." His mother pouts, pouts! At him puffing her cheeks up with air before finally looking behind him and realizing you aren't there.

"Oh absolutely not, I am not letting this fish out of my net." She mutters muscling her son out of the way. "Yoo hoo! Darling are you certain you can't at least stay for dinner?"

"Mother!"

"Or maybe forever?"

"MOTHER!"

Jade

"Well now, this is a surprise, watcha doin here Jade?" Grim asks as you step foot into the Pomefiore lounge. Normally asking Jade anything is akin to sticking your foot in your mouth but you have to admit, you are sort of curious why Jade and Vil, the two most composed people on campus, are standing awkwardly in the corner clearly a bit out of place while two men you assume are their father's seem to be having a grand time chatting it up on the couch. Disturbingly, Jade makes eye contact with you with a look you almost think is screaming for help.

"Yoooo!" The Leech father is tall, and the speed with which he snaps up off the couch and approaches you does not help at all with his naturally intimidating aura. "You've gotta be the prefect right? Mr. Leech!" He extends a hand and you look at Jade who just smiles at you as you gingerly take his father's hand and immediately regret it with how he nearly snaps your arm off with his hand shake.

"Um yes that's me, can I help you?" You wince and try to avoid rolling your wrist too much. Mr. Leech looks a bit confused.

"Mhm? Don't you have any folks visiting today?" You look at Jade who reluctantly draws attention to himself with a cough.

"Their situation is a bit unique father." You're thankful Jade doesn't say more than that

"Well why didn't you say that? Now I look like an ass." Mr. Leech claps the back of his head and mutters. "And here I had everything I wanted to say to the in laws planned out already, shit." He turns back to you with a smile and Vil's dad lets out an elegant laugh.

"From a certain point of view that makes your task easier no?" Vil's father says as Jade reluctantly moves out of the corner towards his father, clearly looking for an excuse to get him out of Vil's hair.

"If you are done saying hello to your friend, would you like to see some of the mountain lover's club projects?" Jade asks, already gently herding him towards the door as his father shrugs.

"Sure, you coming kid?" Why is he looking at you and why is Jade giving you that strange look again? "Jade's told his mom all about your hikes, gotta admit I don't really get the appeal myself but it sounds like you two have a grand old time with it."

"The headmage technically has me-" Mr. Leech wraps one arm around your shoulder and another around Jade's and resumes the march towards the door.

"Aww don't worry about that!" It's clear you aren't getting out of this with just how terrified Grim is, he's practically rooted to his spot as Mr. Leech loosens his grip to wave over his shoulder at Vil and his dad. "See ya next Sunday Eric!"

"Good luck! Don't scare them off!"

Trey

Two small children stare up at you with sharp eyes, judgmentally you think but you can't be too sure. "You are the prefect right?" Asks the little boy, definitely judgmentally. "I thought you would be prettier or at least more handsome."

"Hey!" snaps his sister, who doesn't hesitate to hit him in a display that you are sure would give her parents a headache. "Big brother never lies to us about stuff!" Her brother scowls and rubs his head.

"Big brother lies all the time, what else do you call those 'secret ingredients' of his?" He goes back to staring you down and you and Grim exchange a look.

"Yeah but not to us." The little girl crosses her arms and stares her brother down sternly. "He would never lie about something like that. Besides did you see how dopey he looks when he talks about them?" The little boy looks away from you with a pout, almost like you stole his toy or something while his sister rolls her eyes. "It is so obvious- you would absolutely know if you were a girl."

"That's got nothing to do with it! I'm just worried you know, it's important to make sure they pass the sniff test." He looks like he is questioning if he can get away with hitting his sister in front of you as you desperately look around for any sign of these kids' parents. "You would totally know if you were a boy."

"Uhhh hench human," Grim poorly whispers "you don't think these two are..." he doesn't finish his sentence but as you both examine the bickering duo you start to note all the little similarities between them and-

"Hey you two aren't causing problems on purpose are you?" Trey looks down sternly on the two kids who completely ignore his tone and jump on him immediately.

"TREY!"

"Are you gonna show us the hedgehogs?!" squeals the little girl.

"Forget that, I wanna see the Coliseum!" cheers the little boy. You breathe a sigh of relief, and wave to Trey getting ready to continue your patrol when the little girl looks after you confused.

"Aren't you gonna come?" She asks, so sweetly in comparison to the heat you're taking from her brother. Trey smiles at you, but he can't really bring himself to keep eye contact.

"The prefect's busy, I'm sure. They don't need to be running around after us all day." He sets them both down and starts herding them towards the mirror, shooting you a wink over his shoulder as he flicks his little brother on the forehead for sticking his tongue out at you. His sister sighs and you swear you hear her whine that-

"You just want to keep them to yourself. You can't keep me away forever, I swear I'll be a good wing woman, you're waaaay too lame to get a date yourself Trey!" You awkwardly look back down at your clipboard as Grim desperately tries to do the math in his head.

[marypsue]

So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."

I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.

Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.

And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.

The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.

(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)

[mixtape-timeout]

This is the last post I will be making on this topic. Since gimmeurtmi is back and posting again, here is yet another reminder for you that she is a Zionist. She is trying to spin the story and claim that people are witch-hunting her for being Israeli, which is just another excuse to deflect from her disgraceful behavior. Since she wants to say that we are spreading misinformation, please look at the screenshots in the link. These are screenshots of posts SHE made herself. Not my words, just hers. Read her posts without any of my commentary, and come to your own conclusions about her beliefs. Her posts speak for themselves.

((More below))

She can say she's Pro-Palestine all she wants, but her actions do not reflect that. I can't prove if she is attending peace rallies like she says she is, but what we do know is that the things she says and does are in direct contradiction of this. Please look at the tags of the original callout post and see the sheer number of bloggers (including other authors) she had blocked for being Pro-Palestine. She claims she blocked people for being Anti-Semitic, but what she perceives as "Anti-Semitic" is anything Anti-Zionist. The testimonies from people who used to follow her and used to be very close friends with her all say she is a very manipulative person who always makes herself the victim. She has repeatedly made Zionist posts, deleted them, pretended to change her views, post "Pro-Palestine" things, then go back and show her true colors once the accusations blow over. She had reblogged fundraisers for Rafah weeks ago on her blog @stuckonspidey after being called out that are now nowhere to be found. She is a liar and a manipulator who has repeatedly said things that contradict her actions just to save face.

If she's Pro-Palestine, why does she make posts sympathizing with the IDF? Why does she support the occupational force that kills Palestinians for fun, undresses hostages to humiliate them (including CHILDREN), beats hostages to death with hammers in their captivity, disguises themselves as HUMANITARIAN AID to kill hundreds of refugees, takes pictures with hostages/dead bodies and posts them on social media, steals Palestinian women's underwear and takes pictures with it after killing them/ransacking their houses, targets journalists and humanitarian aid workers, straps injured Palestinians to their trucks and uses them as human shields? This is the army that fired 355 bullets at the car that 6 year old Hind Raghab was in while she was surrounded by her dead family members, KNOWING she was in there. They are a depraved, violent occupational force that kills and tortures civilians, and one of the most basic pillars of being Pro-Palestine is opposing the IDF. You cannot be Pro-Palestine and have sympathy for the army that is killing and oppressing them. You cannot say you stand for Palestinian liberation and peace, yet mourn for their oppressors when the resistance fights back. There is proof all over the internet of the IDF's war crimes because they post it themselves. Here are a few links if you don't believe me. LINK LINK LINK LINK. Please research it yourself, too. You'll find no shortage of it.

If she is Pro-Palestine, why does she refuse to acknowledge it as a genocide? Why does she call it a "war"? Why does she call the International Court of Justice's decision to take Israel to court for its war crimes "questionable"? If she believes what Israel is doing is wrong, why would she criticize it being held accountable for its crimes against humanity? If she is Pro-Palestine, why would she call an Israeli propaganda movie that paints Arabs as barbaric savages her all time favorite and complain that it's getting RIGHTFULLY negative reviews for its blatant racism, glorification of war criminal Golda Mier, and historical misinformation? Her excuse was that "she posted about a movie because she likes movies." That is an absolutely pitiful reason and being deliberately obtuse to distract from the actual issue. When you say it like that, of course it sounds harmless, but the CONTENT of the movie matters. For example: Would you call "The Birth of A Nation", a disgustingly racist white supremacy propaganda movie your favorite? Absolutely NOT. And if you did, people would rightfully question you for that. If she's Pro-Palestine, why didn't she boycott LMB when there are two Zionists on it? One of which (Johnny Goldstein) is a former IDF soldier and attends Pro-Israel events? If she's Pro-Palestine, why would she use the well-known Zionist talking points, conflating Judaism with Zionism, and saying that when people say "Zionist" they really mean "Jew"? If She's Pro-Palestine, why would she have such an issue with Stays trying to inform Felix about the Coca-Cola boycott and say they are bullies? Do you notice a pattern here? Her labeling ANY attempts at calling out Zionism to be "bullying" or "Anti-Semitic"? This is the exact rhetoric Zionists use. Once again, she can say she's Pro-Palestine, she might even actually believe that she is, but her behavior does not reflect this. Saying "My posts aren't Anti-Palestinian because I'm not Anti-Palestinian" proves absolutely nothing. Someone who can't even call the genocide a genocide is not an ally to Palestine.

She continues to hide behind "Anti-Semitism" despite me and many of my friends who called her out being Jews or of Jewish ancestry ourselves. If you look through my blog, you will see a majority of my posts are dedicated to dismantling the idea that Jews = Zionists. I have worked so hard in my community to do this in real life, and it's incredibly frustrating to see her perpetuating this harmful stereotype when us Anti-Zionist Jews are doing everything we can to separate Judaism from Zionism. She is also saying we are racist against Israelis, which is an absolutely ludicrous claim. Israeli is not a race, just like American isn't a race. Israeli is a Nationality. 75% of Jewish people are Ashkenazim, meaning European/White, and about 50% of Israelis are White. Nationality =/= Race. Her claims of racism are, again, her using terms of discrimination to distract from her blatantly Zionist posts.

Furthermore the claim that we are attacking her simply for being Israeli is not only wrong, it makes no sense. I was not aware that she was Israeli before suspecting her of being a Zionist. A huge chunk of Zionists are actually Western Christians who support Israel for Anti-Semitic reasons, and I would NEVER sabotage a fellow Jew for their identity. I went out of my way to emphasize this in the first post. Gimmeurtmi was called out for Zionism that me and several other people in the community recognized, point blank period. We are not "painting her in a specific light", we are bringing attention to harmful, dangerous things SHE said. If I presented her posts to you without commentary, even in context, you could come to the same conclusion. The original callout post was edited many times with many additions as new screenshots/information came forward, and it was through the comments from other people talking about their experience with her that we found out that she was Israeli and had made those Anti-Palestinian posts on October 7th (which she deleted). It was her thinly-veiled Zionism that originally raised our suspicions, the knowledge that she's Israeli came after.

I know gimmeurtmi will continue to see herself as a victim no matter what. I know she will keep pretending she's being attacked for her identity just as all Zionists do. This post is just to disprove her accusations that we called her out on the basis of "racism", when the callout for her was a result of HER racism herself. I never had any problem with gimmeurtmi before she blocked me, I enjoyed her fics and looked up to her, as many others in the community did. She gave me no reason to dislike her before this. The only reason my friends and I put that post together was because we felt it was imperative that someone like her, who uses her SKZ blog to normalize Zionist ideology amidst a genocide, gets de-platformed. I cannot tell you what to believe, but I urge you to be careful and understand what a manipulative person she is. I urge you to read the screenshots of her posts for yourself and come to your own conclusion.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hihihi!

I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)

Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?

Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.

Thank you for your time!💜

Spotting | Raphael

requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3

since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.

warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread

summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights

word count: 1195

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”

“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.

Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”

You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”

“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”

Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.

Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 

His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.

“You’re staring.”

“Hmm?”

His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.

You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”

The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”

You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 

Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.

He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”

He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.

It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”

Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.

You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”

Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.

He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.

He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.

You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.

“Be my Valentine?”

You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.

[qqueenofhades]

can you assuage my creeping fear about the debate between harris and trump? my brain is like. the media will be salivating over any chance to get the story HARRIS FLUBS THE DEBATE MORE AT 6 unless she's 100% perfect for it. i keep telling myself that she's an incredibly seasoned prosecutor who knows exactly what to do to unravel these sorts of people, she has plenty of time to prepare, he's completely gone over the edge into incoherence most of the time, but i also keep thinking of how, after weeks of her absolutely pile-driving the republican party, the media will be circling for any mistake, mis-step, or imperfection to blow out of proportion to make it seem like she's failing. i guess what i'm afraid of is the other shoe dropping? or the bubble bursting? i'm afraid of this hope?

i was barely aware of obama in 2008, too young to vote and not paying attention, so i don't know how this kind of momentum turned into the juggernaut that got him elected. i know you believe that the same can happen here, how did he take on the predatory press?

Well, first, we need to recognize that the media treatment of the debate WILL be wildly unfair, full stop. If Trump shows up and puts on pants, he will be applauded by the media, because they have the lowest imaginable bar where he is concerned and everything that would have been multiply-disqualifying for any other candidate makes them just shrug and find a way to make excuses for him. So yes, he will literally be congratulated if he shows up on September 10, because that is how the media works. See: three relentless weeks of bullying Biden out of the race after the bad debate, barely mentioning Trump's equally insane diatribes at the same debate, and now, when he's gone full-on demented and is raving about AI-generated crowds at Kamala's events? Nary a peep. Lol.

However, the main narrative that's emerging from the Harris takeover is that voters and the media are miles apart on where they actually see this race going, and without the media's favorite chew toy of Biden's shortcomings, it has become increasingly difficult to avoid focusing on Trump's flaws, even tangentially. See the mainstream media reporters whining constantly that Harris hasn't given them a press conference and congratulating Trump for lying to them nonstop for an hour; they simply have no frame of reference that's remotely useful, because they are so beholden to making Trump look like a normal candidate and focusing on Harris's "flaws" as if they are remotely comparable to his. But at the same time, there has been a far heightened level of pushback on this BS manipulation, and everybody can see through it, precisely because the media and/or the right-wing smear machine has tried this so many times before and their tactics are now completely transparent. Ordinary voters don't give a shit whether Harris WiLl tAkE qUesTioNs fRoM tHe mEdiA; they're too busy flooding her campaign with donations, attending her rallies, signing up for volunteer shifts, and so forth. In fact, the reason the media is trying SO HARD to kill her momentum is because they, like Trump, rely on doing so. The more they try and don't succeed, the more panicked they'll get. We have to prepare for that, and we have to have her back.

That said, we should recall that Harris easily crushed Pence in their debate in 2020, and Pence was actually halfway presentable at it compared to Trump (which is a low bar, but still). The way Trump "wins" is that he just repeats a lot of lies forcefully and over and over, which Biden was ill-prepared to counter because he has a far more deliberate and decisive speaking style (related to stutter/speech difficulties, temperament as a politician, etc). Everything that I have seen from the Harris campaign in terms of communication so far, however, has been the exact kind of clapback that makes Trump look stupid and which shows that they are very attuned to the kind of strategies that work against that nonsensical bullying Gish gallop. Therefore, I have to trust that they have INTENSIVELY studied what went wrong with Biden/Trump in June, and also empowered Kamala to do what she does in her fashion and which has been extremely successful thus far at knocking down Trump's BS. Also, she's just a better and more fluent communicator than Biden, she looks and sounds more energetic, and those stupid aesthetic Vibes are half of the battle when it comes to convincing the public.

Also, we should recognize that Trump looked deeply creepy on stage at the debates with HRC in 2016, and that was when he was downright sane compared to now. He stalked her, he stood behind her, he rolled his eyes, he bullied her, and people noticed that (he subsequently won the election, yes, but if nothing else, 2024 feels nothing like 2016). If he has to stand on stage with a black woman kicking his ass, after his appearance at the NABJ event in Chicago quickly became a touchstone for how badly he fucked it up, he is going to just look BAD, and when that's the case, people will immediately fit it into the existing narrative (that he's scared of Harris and deeply racist and unglued). You can also play your part in making sure it does. At least half of the Bidengate furor came from Democrats melting down and yelling about it afterward, and that led into the knives-out media coverage that spiraled for 3.5 weeks until Biden withdrew. We can, yknow, NOT DO THAT this time!

So: yeah. We have to be aware that yes, the media coverage of the debate will find absolutely every excuse to praise Trump and bash Harris, because that's just baked in. However, we can also understand that there's a wide-and-getting-wider CHASM between how ordinary voters see things right now and how the media is desperate to play it, and the more transparent they get, the more easily we are able to call it out. (See Lawrence O'Donnell's rant the other night.) We are going to have to keep doing that and not let up, but it's not going to go well for Trump either way and it's still an open question as to whether he even shows up after trying SO hard to dodge. It's not out of the question that he'll announce on September 4 that by Harris not showing up to the Fox debate she never agreed to and which exists only in his deluded mind, he doesn't have to do the same on September 10. He is a scared fucking orange chickenshit who KNOWS he's badly outmatched against Harris and whose entire campaign strategy at this point relies on lying low and trying not to make voters remember again how much they hate him, which is already backfiring. And with your help, we can make him MORE scared all the way to prison. Let's do it.

[genericpuff]

The excessively passive voice when talking about Minthe being intended to have BPD is hilarious. "It was thought to have her written with BPD"? So weird

Honestly, once you start noticing this passive voice in how Rachel writes and talks, it's kind of hard to unsee.

Like, for starters, the BPD example. It's very non-committal, almost as if to sound like she never actually wrote her with BPD, it was just an 'idea' that she could neither confirm or deny as canon. But then you read the episode with the slap and-

It's- it's literally called "Splitting". It's about as subtle as a brick to the face. This entire episode showcases Minthe having an actual literal episode of splitting and it's plain as day to anyone who can read the title card and put two and two together. So for the wording to be so passive around her characterization... it wasn't "thought" to have her written with BPD, she was written with BPD.

Another example that sticks out in my mind of Rachel's passive writing is far later in Season 3, when Demeter reunites with Persephone and naturally expects her to come back home with her.

This line still fucking bothers me to this day. Besides the fact that it's just really poorly written dialogue, Persephone describes her being in love with Hades as if it's just some coincidental thing that happened to her that she can't avoid and not a deliberate choice she's making. "It would seem" my ass, Persephone is a coward for not being upfront and just talking to her mother like an adult by saying, "Mother, I love you, and I understand why you want me to come home, but I'm in love with Hades and want to stay in the Underworld with him." Instead the way it's worded is almost designed to absolve Persephone of any and all agency in her own decisions and active participation in her relationship with Hades by instead making it out to be just some circumstance that she can't get herself out of.

Again, this isn't quite as egregious as the aforementioned BPD scene, but it's still irritating because Rachel writes like this a lot throughout LO. And it's not just the dialogue either, entire decisions throughout the comic are flip-flopped and kept vague by Rachel so she can give herself plausible deniability over the narrative. I could come up with some of my own examples, but I think she managed to speak for herself just fine in the end-of-series Q&A that left both critics and fans of the series massively confused and disappointed:

LO is full of half-committed plotlines because Rachel herself can't commit to her own decisions. So the decisions she does make are left vague enough that hardcore fans are willing enough to fill in the blanks themselves, but anyone who asks her genuinely what her plan was, she just gives the same wordy "IDK it's up to your interpretation!" response. It's like she thinks people are asking her as just another reader who can only speculate, but she's literally the author, so why is she acting like her guess is as good as theirs?

Well, because that's how she wrote LO. That's how she's always written comics, with vague half-finished thoughts and just enough for readers to do the mental gymnastics of making sense of it all just to give her the credit for "smart writing" that she never actually did because she stopped paying attention after the first sentence. And that method of being vague for the sake of audience interpretation is fine for illustrations or anything that isn't trying to be a concise narrative, but LO did try to be that and it really shows how hard it failed in doing so when its own creator can't even come up with something slightly plausible to explain all the questions people had in the end. "There is some backstory there" but proceeds to not actually expand on said backstory. "I like to imply things without outright telling people", so do I, but the difference is that Rachel is using that as a crutch to not answer the questions she setup for her readers and then didn't resolve after five years. There's not wanting to spoon feed people the plot, and then there's literally refusing to explain your decisions when writing said plot, almost because you don't know any more than they do.

The entirety of LO is rooted in Rachel's passiveness, from her inability to answer questions concisely to every little plot point that was established and dropped throughout the comic's run. Writing a story is a series of decisions, deciding what to keep, deciding what not to keep, deciding what has to be changed, etc. and Rachel just... doesn't seem like someone who's ever been capable of making those decisions, especially when she's writing an actual long form story to the end and doesn't have the luxury of dropping it whenever it feels convenient for her like she did several times with The Doctor Pepper Show. Once she was actually held to a standard, once she was actually signed into a contract that expected her to make those decisions, she failed to and it culminated in one of the messiest conclusions to a story I've seen since Game of Thrones.

LO is kind of like Schrodinger's Cat - a plot point can be or not be whatever it needs to be so that Rachel can be either praised for smart writing she never did or absolved of bad writing that she did do. It's equally parts interesting and vague enough that whatever her readers give her credit for writing, she can give them a thumbs-up and go "you're totally right, champ!" and proceed to take all the credit of being a "good writer" from the efforts of her own audience who had to jump through a million hoops to make sense of her own messy writing.

But when she's put on the spot by those very same readers to answer for her own decisions, she can't.

Because she never made them.

Because there was never anything "deeper" going on, that's just what her style of "distraction writing" made you believe. The plot never lets you stop to think about what you just read long enough before zipping away to the next thing and distracting you with a new twist or a new character or a new plot point, and before you know it, you've gone weeks without reading about the last thing that was established you probably haven't even realized that those questions never got answered. Sometimes Rachel remembers to get back to those things and resolves them within a handful of panels, other times she forgets them entirely and just leaves them to rot in the hopes that no one ever calls her out on it. And when they do... she can just pull the get-out-of-jail-free "Welp, it's up to your interpretation!" card and get that credit all over again for being deep and insightful, meanwhile those who are rightfully dissatisfied with that answer are blanket-accused of "getting mad at Rachel for not writing the story they wanted".

To close out this ask that, per tradition, turned into an essay, I'd like to recall the famous words of fictional detective Benoit Blanc: "Look into the clear center of this glass onion... Miles Bron is an idiot!"

[porcubus]

removed from any shipping its genuinely notable to me that rodya seemingly latches on to gregor from the start. of course shes doing her little facade (and if you go back to the earlier episodes now, its a lot more egregious and easier to notice) but its curious that out of any of the sinners, its him she actively chooses to interact with and drop a nickname on first

shes very very teasing especially initially and seems to target him for his arm, a lot of her comments being based on him being bugmoded. it honestly could look cruel especially with the full context we have now, though notably these do all take place pre-gregor revelations, but if you jump to this being a signifier of rodya bullying/wanting to get actual pain or upset out of gregor you'd have to skip over this scene

which is both silly but also i feel pretty significant for understanding something about the two of them and their relationship:

gregor is not actually a helpless pushover who lets himself be walked over and he will speak up if a line is crossed for him

rodya can read and understand when he's distressed, gets hesitant and will back off. her intention is not actual upset from gregor

what's important to me in my read of rodya is that she does have a facade, deliberately to be charming and likable, but i dont think her buttonpushing/ragging on of gregor (and later the other sinners) is actually entirely part of that, i think its the opposite. showing real honest affection is something difficult to her, so she skips a few steps and jumps straight into poking fun like you would with someone youve known a long time.

I think her "true" personality isn't cold and calculative, from further story context i interpret it as more jaded and sarcastic. these moments to me read as a sort of fumble or early mask slip, she's not baring it all with these bits but she has singled out gregor in her mind and is particularly hovering (based on how the majority of both of their interactions throughout are from the very start with eachother) around him, trying to get closer in an awkward way.

I think people miss that theres a lot you can take and learn about rodya from their interactions, whether its because of a focus on shipping or trying to outright deny there is anything going on there at all

[butterfly-ribbon]

thinking about the kamikou festival event again and how it conveys the tone and atmosphere of the school while showing the constant transmisogyny microaggressions mizuki lives with every day so well, and this phone call with an drives me insane bc even though an is genuinely well-meaning and is trying to ensure that mizuki knows that today is a safe day for her to come to school due to the circumstances of the festival, the way she words this is very discomforting bc she's basically saying "nobody is going to notice that you're dressed as a girl today bc everyone is wearing wacky outfits!" which carries the unfortunate implication that the way mizuki presents herself is equally wacky in a way that reinforces everything ppl say about her, but this isn't easy for her to push back against bc she doesn't have a good enough 'excuse' to do so when this is one of the few ppl who go out of their way to accommodate her even if they don't fully get it? it's thoughtful of an to want to reassure her but also it's another little thing that others fail to understand. she's trying to be kind but even then mizuki feels somewhat pushed into a corner. she's very bad at actively saying No. and an has removed her ability to misdirect here bc an is speaking with ambiguity.

mizuki also being too anxious about the idea of changing her clothes in school bc she's terrified of the possibility of being caught and thus having her body perceived by others... that's also another reason she'd hate being at school. gym and changing for it … i'd wager mizuki skips almost every gym class bc she can't stand the idea of being forced to change amidst boys, but she's also not allowed into the girls' locker room… literally only has the option to go to the roof if she wants to change. she's so hyper cognizant of her body and being seen … and the worst part is, she likes to be seen under her own circumstances and control (which is one of the many reasons she's very passionate abt fashion, and a lot of trans ppl in fiction tend to have an attachment to fashion and styling which makes a lot of sense bc of the element of control over one's appearance and making a self one can love). she really does. it just … happens that she knows she has so little control.

i've read the vbs main story (and a bit of their events but i need to continue whoops) and this makes me appreciate mizuki's brief interaction with kohane and an here more, bc it's obvious in this moment that kohane is just being her usual self—anxious around other ppl she's not familiar with and this is something she wants to improve upon (which as far as i can tell is the conceit of her character arc as an underdog of sorts compared to the others in her group). but mizuki assumes that she has to be uncomfortable with her specifically (presumably due to her transness) bc of her experiences, so she immediately feels bad about 'taking up space' and decides to make up an excuse to get away from the situation to give kohane the chance to comfortably hang out with her friend. and the fact that mizuki goes out of her way to say that she's going to find a place to hide alone is interesting bc the way it's framed it doesn't sound like it means much, but it feels deliberate on her part, like she wants an to know... mizuki's internal world and where we see she has internal bias and how she blames herself or assumes she herself is the problem if she can't make others comfortable, and she takes so much upon herself all the time bc she's used to constant microaggressions and either can't say how she truly feels or has to divest what she feels from its context to make it palatable. but of course kohane is not transphobic, she is someone who has trouble socializing with strangers bc of her own anxiety that has nothing to do with mizuki herself, but mizuki doesn't have access to this perspective like the reader so it's easy for her to assume that she's the problem. it's paranoia but it's understandable considering how she's treated by almost everyone...

[coraniaid]

Speaking of Faith, Hope & Trick: that first conversation between Buffy and Faith must be so different from Faith's point of view.

I mean, the episode itself is very much told from Buffy's perspective. She's only recently reclaimed her identity as "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer" and she just started to reconnect with her friends as of the end of last episode. Of course she feels challenged by Faith's arrival; of course she feels like Faith's deliberately trying to upstage her. Of course she feels Faith is trying to intrude on her life. She reacted much the same way when she met Kendra, and that was when she was a lot less keen on being "the Vampire Slayer" and much more comfortable with her place in Sunnydale. As she tells her mother later, she's "just getting her life back […] not looking to go halfsies on it".

But think about it from Faith's side. Even while she's lying about where her Watcher is, she admits that she came all the way from Boston looking to meet "the infamous" Buffy Summers. She presumably set up the earlier encounter with the vampire deliberately to try to lure Buffy out (she's the one to lead him outside and she only starts fighting him seriously once Buffy and the Scooby Gang have arrived looking for her). She must have picked out her never-to-be-seen-again outfit and practiced her slightly too casual introduction of "I've got it. You're, uh, Buffy, right?" (as if she came all the way to California to meet some girl whose name she didn't quite remember) well in advance. She's already calling her 'B' while the vamp's dust is still cooling. You think she hadn't planned that too?

And Faith is trying to so hard to connect with Buffy in this scene. Yes, she tells a lot of "tall tales" (as Scott Hope will later put it) -- she wants to seem impressive! she wants Buffy to view her as an equal! -- but she's also the only person in the group who keeps trying to get Buffy to share things. It's not her fault that the rest of the gang talk over Buffy's attempts to talk about her own past battles or that they undermine her attempts to tell equally impressive stories. It's not even really her fault that she ends up sharing things about being a Slayer that Buffy as obviously been trying to keep secret from her friends (I mean, it's her fault a little, sure, but I don't think it would even occur to Faith to be embarrassed by anything she says).

"Did you really use a rocket launcher one time?" Faith asks, having already heard the story from somewhere and so done her best to convince Buffy that she too has done equally cool things (she hasn't). "What was your toughest kill?" she asks, having fled most of the way across a continent to escape a vampire she couldn't kill herself. "Isn't it crazy how Slaying always makes you hungry and horny?" she asks and "You and I are gonna have fun," she promises. What can that mean but: don't you feel the same way I do? Aren't you just the same as me? Aren't you glad I'm here?

Yes, Faith is jealous of Buffy's friends and her Watcher and her Mom, right from the start, but she didn't arrive in town looking to meet them. She came looking for Buffy; and look at how quick she is to accept Scott's description of her as "Buffy's friend" the next day. But Buffy (very understandably, from her point of view, because of experiences Faith has no knowledge of) just keeps trying to shut her out. The harder Faith tries to impress her -- by trying to win over Buffy's friends, and her Watcher, and her possible boyfriend, and her Mom -- the more aloof the other Slayer seems to get.

No wonder Faith gets annoyed by the rejection. No wonder she starts to get angry. No wonder she's ready to start exchanging threats once they're alone on patrols and the vampires aren't even showing up the way they're supposed to. Like she'll complain later in the season: she came to Sunnydale, she slayed, she did the good little girl routine, and what did she get? Not Buffy, that's for sure.