#but they would certainly be different people

[dgaftilwedie]

now this.......... this is what i mean when i want more fun question thingies...... holy fuck im gonna have a field day with this

kinda shitty but life goes on

nawwwww im not ready for a face reveal on here yet lol

absolutely every single day of my life

hm... good question... lemme ask my mom and i'll get back to you

18 woohooo adulthood

i don't usually get asked questions abt my age let alone get mistaken for any ages

im an aquarius and i think??? i suit it?? idk that's what my parents say at least

had a little at home thingy, went to one of my fav places with my bff it was pretty fun

i don't know

black rn

yeah my natural hair color is brown but i like to change it a lot

brown

i'd change the color only if i could make them pink

yeah im blind

well i certainly have one. and it does the jobs it needs to. that is for sure.

we're not gonna get into that this early in the morning

or that this is boring

i have one but im looking to get more asap

i have 6 but again im always looking to get more

right

bi

no but if i could i would

yeah

i have a kitty cat and a doggy dog

i don't have like a set job, i just do occasional freelancey shit

i have a fic in the works as per usual

tell me this question list is from the pro-ana days of tumblr without telling me it was from the pro-ana days of tumblr lol

massive two shits, you ess ay

im very empathetic and a good listener (or at least i try to be, that's just what i've been told)

im a good writer

a lot of things

well it's not really something you're born with but i wish drawing came easier to me, im not really good at it

i feel like one a lot of the time but i don't really know

i try to be, but i get really bitchy when people aren't nice back. i try to keep that to myself tho

i do not know my personality well enough

yeah, im really good at being friends with shitty people apparently!!!

my ideal bed is one with a frame because im tired of my mattress pulling away from the wall and then slamming my head into the wall when i try to lay down <3

no but im feeling quite cranky right now

yeah im like 5 years old lol

mark hoffman

BORING next

i don't even know anymore

i have none

again i have like zero aspirations in the career world, i never want to get a job. crossing my fingers i win the lottery or something

not at fucking all

all the time. i dwell on every interaction i have and i play them back almost obsessively.

yeah, i still kinda do

too lazy

yeah

no but i absolutely need one

i have seasonal allergies n then a couple medicines

i fractured my wrist once

yeah i almost slipped down a waterfall. that would've sucked

nerp

i actually can't think of anythint

i used to be a cheerleader, i went to circus camp (for one day), and uhm........ i got nothing

this is literally the last question restated

literally everythint im a fuckint freak

boring

yeah

like, three

what the fuck

yolo

no

sleep

pink

favorite band is ghost, favorite singer is 12ve my goat 🙏🙏🙏

SAW

the incorrigible children of ashton place, ghost girl, uhmmm OH a series of unfortunate events

yolo bc...... yolo

scoop

most words with the "oy" sound

sushi 🤤🤤🤤

chocolate chip cookie dough

kitty cats meow meow meow

does my answer to the last question answer this one too

super soft, kinda fluffy, silky blankets

orchids

scent as in perfume?? i have this one purple juicy perfume i really like. my favorite not-perfume scent is cigarettes. n then on the opposite sex....... idk man i like when guys smell kinda musky

fall

i don't know

why do i have to list 4 things UGHHHHHH

i don't know mythological creatures well enough to cast myself as any

smiling friends

walmart

naw

why do i have to list so many thints this is so boring

my dad

i have two brothers

no

it's......... interesting

NOOOOO

no

no

i wish

in a different house

idk, i'd want all the rooms to have like a different vibe but i wouldn't want anything to be too white or minimalist or modern.

nyc or something

not home

no

yeah

i don't have a preference

my best friend

yes

all of them are pretty loyal

yes

kill myself 💀💀

i don't know?????

yes

no i don't wanna

i don't remember

my first real bf

yeah

no but i am so open to it dilfs hmu

guh i kinda have a preference towards men

?? idk how to answer this question

never experienced but im sure some people have so who am i to say

hm....,... kinda

i don't really have one

tbh if ur like. adam stanheight or jesse pinkman. then. yeah. that works :3

i don't actually know

kinda?? i wouldn't say someone im not attracted to, that'd be shitty. but looks aren't everything. basically if you're cute and have a good personality, YIPPEE!!!!

i don't even know what this means

i've made it very very clear that im more than open to dating a guy who's like double my age. i do not care LMAO

maybe??

naur

i don't know 😭

n/a

n/a

"oh ok my bad"

yesterday

no

no

yes

yes

no

yes

no

yes oh my god these questions are so gay

i think so

yes

yes

1) stoo asking boring yes or no questions OK WOOOOOO

stupid dumb idiot stoners who are the epitome of the kinda trashy loser guys in 2000s movies. fuck they're my favorite

uhmmmmm not much

i don't know

boring

boring

boring

boring

yes with mark hoffman

yes with mark hoffman

that he is mark hoffman

yes obviously what

probably jill tuck and also amanda young

easily

EASILY

i think so maybe

no

not having any

yes

i don't know

if ur actively trying to emotionally or physically get with someone - whether it's over text or through like a post or a dating app - that's cheating. idc if ur attracted to other people, idc if u watch porn, idc abt most things, but if we're dating and you're seeking out someone else, you suck

no

not really but im a grudge holder so

no. god no. ew.

i don't wanna get into that rn

or that

i dislike too many people

tbh yeah

technically 3

a year and four months

???

naw

almost constantly

i like a whoke lot of different stuff

kinda but im really bad at it

never been to one

maybe idk

no

none that i can think of

oh my god u and ur damn lists

none

ifinhad a library it would be wasted bc i'd never read anything

saw vi

weird ass wording but horror movies

joestar birthmark, east

public indecency

i don't know

i'd keep it anyways???? da fuq

i'd just picj me and my best friend up and renove us from our old friend group

radium bc j said so

2020

a gun and "this is gaytarded"

death rollercoaster i'll test it and everything

fuck

none........... it won't happen........

amanda young

sleeping

kinda idk

i don't <3

no

no

no

nooooooo oh ny gourd

half empty and im about to spill the reston the floor bc my hands are too cokd to hold anything

i don't even know anymore brother

if i tell you none of my wishes will cone true

NO

yeah

atheistic satanism

depends on the amount

i have neither so does it really matter

very

kick every bad person out of america and shape the country into a safe haven

i think it's circumstancial tbh

rewatch saw v

adam stanheight bc we're both losers with not much going for us. we love animals and have rocky relationships with our family and similar music taste and a creative outlet that's the only thing we really have. plus cigarettes also make me bust a nut in front of hot dilfs LMFAO

i missed a question at some point and i can't fund it so uhmmmmm last answer was suppoised to be this one

procrastinator

no

nooooooooo

nothing

my music

no

no

no

no

no

no

no lul

no

no

yes stop asking

molly

no

no

everything

yes

no

probably

yes

i don't think so

no

badly

depends

i don't know anymore

yes

not well

better

everything

what the fuck is an intem

going back to bed

no eat my balls

yes

costas mandylor

no

Aaaaaaaaaaask aawwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaay :D

Personal

1- How are you?

2- Post a picture of yourself.

3- Do you ever wish you were someone else?

4- What is your entire name?

5- How old are you?

6- Age you get mistaken for:

7- Your zodiac/horoscope and if you think it fits your personality:

8- What did you do on your last birthday?

9- What is one thing you would like to accomplish before your next birthday?

10- What is your hair color?

11- Have you ever dyed your hair?

12- What is your eye color?

13- If you could change your eye color, would you?

14- Do you wear contacts/glasses?

15- Your opinion about your body and how confortable you are with it:

16- Have you ever considered plastic surgery? What would you alter about your body?

17- Say 8 facts about your body:

18- Do you have any tattoos?

19- Do you have any piercings?

20- Left or right handed?

21- What’s your sexual orientation?

22- Do you drink?

23- Do you smoke?

24- Do you have any pets?

25- Where do you work?

26- Something you are working on right now:

27- Do you have any “rules” about food?

28- Where are you from?

29- What would you say is your best quality?

30- What do you think you’re really good at?

31- What do you think you’re really bad at?

32- What talent do you wish you’d been born with?

33- Are you a bad person?

34- Are you nice to everyone?

35- Say 3 facts about your personality:

36- Has someone ever spread a nasty rumor about you?

37- What is your ideal bed? Why?

38- Did you wake up cranky?

39- Do you sleep with a stuffed toy?

40- What do you think about the most?

41- Share 2 habits:

42- What you want to be when you “get older”?

43- What are your career goals?

44- What is your ideal career?

45- Is your life anything like it was two years ago?

46- Do you replay things that have happened in your head?

47- Have you ever had an imaginary friend?

48- Say 10 facts about your room:

49- Do you have any phobias?

50- Have you ever been to a psychiatrist/therapist?

51- Are you allergic to anything? If so, what?

52- Ever broken any bones?

53- Ever come close to death?

54- Things you like and dislike about yourself:

55- A random fact about yourself:

56- What are three things most people don’t know about you?

57- An unknown fact about your life:

58- Share something about yourself others might think is weird:

59- Five weird things that you like:

60- Do you have a facebook? If so, would you add the person who sent you this?

61- Do you have any pictures on your Facebook?

62- Describe yourself in one word/sentence:

63- A quote you try to live by:

64- Leave me a compliment:

Favorites

65- What is your favorite thing to do?

66- What’s your favorite color?

67- What’s your favorite band/singer?

68- What’s your favorite movie?

69- What are your favorite books?

70- What is your favorite quote and why?

71- What is your favorite word?

72- What is your least favorite word?

73- What is your favorite type of food?

74- Your favorite ice cream?

75- What’s your favorite animal?

76- Dogs or cats?

77- Describe your favourite texture:

78- What is your favorite flower?

79- What’s your favourite scent? And on the opposite sex?

80- What is your favorite season?

81- What are the top five places you wish you could go before you die?

82- What are four things you can’t live without and why?

83- Which mythological creature are you most like? Why?

84- What’s your favorite television show?

85- Favorite place to shop at?

86- Say 2 facts about your favorite things: Family, childhood and places

87- Say 4 facts about your parents:

88- Are you more like your mom or your dad?

89- Do you have any siblings?

90- Say 9 facts about your family:

91- What’s your relationship like with your family?

92- Say 7 facts about your childhood:

93- The best and the worst childhood memories:

94- Say 6 facts about your home town:

95- Are you going out of town soon?

96- Where would you like to live?

97- What would your dream house be like?

98- Where would you go on your dream vacation?

99- Where you want to be right now?

100- Top three places to visit:

Friends

101- Would you ever smile at a stranger?

102- Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys?

103- Who is someone you never tire of?

104- Do you have someone you can be your complete self around?

105- Who is your most loyal friend?

106- Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to?

107- If your best friend died, what would you do?

108- A reason you’ve lied to a friend:

109- Have you ever felt replaced?

110- Say 5 facts about your bestfriend(s):

Relationships

111- The last person you hugged?

112- Who was your first kiss with?

113- Do you like kissing in public?

114- Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

115- You have a preference for boys or girls?

116- Is the male or female body closest to perfection?

117- Do you believe in love at first sight?

118- Do you believe in soul mates?

119- What is your idea of the perfect date?

120- Based on past relationships or crushes, describe your perfect boyfriend/girlfriend:

121- What is the first thing you noticed in someone?

122- Are looks important in a relationship?

123- What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?

124- What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?

125- Would you ever date someone off of the Internet?

126- Five guys/girls whom you find attractive:

127- Do you have a crush on anyone?

128- A description of the girl/boy you like:

129- Say 1 fact about the person your like:

130- If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?

131- When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

132- Do you think someone has feelings for you?

133- Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

134- Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?

135- Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

136- Anyone you’re giving up on?

137- Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?

138- Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated?

139- Have you ever liked one of your best friends?

140- Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?

141- Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?

142- Is there someone you will never forget?

143- Say five ways to win your heart:

144- What turns you on?

145- What turns you off?

146- What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

147- What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

148- What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?

149- Have you ever written a song or poem for someone? Have you had one written for you?

150- What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

151- Are you in love?

152- Are you in a relationship?

153- If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her?

154- Are relationships ever worth it?

155- Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are?

156- Can you commit to one person?

157- Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?

158- Do you ever want to get married?

159- Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

160- Future names of your children:

161- Do you get jealous easily?

162- The last time you felt jealous, and why?

163- What is your definition of cheating?

164- Have you ever been cheated on?

165- Do you forgive betrayal?

166- Have you ever cheated on someone?

167- Why did your last relationship fail?

168- Things you want to say to an ex:

169- A description of the person you dislike the most:

170- If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

171- How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had?

172- How long was your longest relationship?

173- You’ll love me if…

174- Share a relationship story:

Music, movies and books

175- How often do you listen to music?

176- What kind of music you like?

177- Do you like to dance?

178- What was the first concert/show you attended?

179- Have you heard a song that reminds you of someone today?

180- Share a song that takes you to a certain memory in the past:

181- A song that’s been stuck in your head:

182- Put your music player on shuffle and write the first ten songs that play:

183- A book you want to read/have recently read:

184- Describe your dream library:

185- Last movie you just watched:

186- Do you like watching what type of movies? Situations and crazy things

187- You’re in a tattoo parlor about to get inked. What are you getting done? 

189- What’s something you can see yourself going to jail for?

190- If you could be any character, from any literary work, who would you choose to be?

191- You’re given $10,000…under one condition: you cannot keep the money for yourself. Who would you give it to?

192- If you had to go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?

193- If you were an element on the Periodic Table, which would you be and why?

194- If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be?

195- You’re an Action Movie Hero. What’s your weapon of choice and the line you scream when defeating your arch enemy?

196- If you could design an amusement park ride, what would it be like?

197- What is the first curse word that comes to mind?

198- What the last party you went to was… and when the next will be…

199- Halloween costume idea?

200- What are you supposed to be doing right now?

201- Currently wanting to see anyone?

202- Why you follow me?

203- If you met me what would you do?

204- Leave me a ridiculous question:

205- Leave me a cute message: Opinions and beliefs

206- Is the cup half full or half empty for you right now?

207- Do you believe in fate/destiny?

208- What you wish for on 11:11?

209- Do you consider yourself lucky? What’s your good luck charm?

210- Do you believe in aliens or life on other planets?

211- What is your religion, if any?

212- Would you go against your moral code for money?

213- What’s more important to you: strength of the body or strength of the mind?

214- How important you think education is?

215- If you were the president, what would you do?

216- If you could change one thing in the world, what would you change?

217- Is it the thought that counts? Or is that phrase circumstantial?

218- If you only had 24 hours to live, what would you do?

219- Which movie character do you most identify with and why? 

Feelings and Others

220- Are you a procrastinator or do you get things done early?

221- Post a photo/draw a picture/write a poem (pick one) of a moment of personal significance:

222- Say 5 things you love unconditionally:

223- What motivates you in life?

224- Something that you’re proud of:

225- Five words/phrases that make you laugh:

226- Share the story of something that makes you smile:

227- Something you always think “what if…” about:

228- What was something you used to enjoy, but was ruined for you? What’s the story behind that?

229- Describe one of the most awkward experiences of your life:

230- Something/someone that you miss:

231- Are you over your past?

232- What is your saddest memory?

233- One of the hardest moments in your life:

234- Is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about?

235- What’s something you want to do that you’d be embarrassed to tell other people about?

236- What was your most embarrassing moment?

237- Share one of your fears/insecurities:

238- Something you’re currently worrying about:

239- Have you done something you regret very much?

240- If you could take something back that you said or did, what would it be?

241- Does anyone hate you?

242- Do you hate anyone?

243- Are you good at hiding your feelings?

244- What’s something you hide about your personality?

245- How do you approach social situations?

246- Are you a social or an antisocial person?

247- Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

248- Do you care if people talk badly about you?

249- How do you deal with criticism?

250- How you hope your future will be like?

251- What’s something that scares you about the future?

252- Five intems you lust after:

253- One thing you’re excited for:

254- Describe the most terrifying/strangest/beautiful dream you’ve ever had:

255- Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

256- Who is your celebrity crush?

257- Make a confession:

[kurooh]

☆ fluff, with mha spoilers about hawks’ fate (ch. 385&426)

“c’mon, stay still, keigo,” you remind him softly, adjusting the angle of his head with a hand at his chin. “i’m not gonna poke your eye out, don’t worry.”

“it looks really . . pointed,” keigo replies, eyeing the tip of the eyeliner pen cautiously. “and anyway, how’re your hands not shaking that bad?”

“practice,” you shrug, “but your talking is breaking up my concentration, y’know.”

“okay, okay,” he zips his lips and pretends to toss a key over his shoulder. you simply shake your head at keigo’s antics, bringing the tip of the pen to his eye again. this time, he manages to control his flinch enough to not mess up the wing you’re drawing.

keigo had been born with his birdlike quirk, fierce wings, which came along with many other avian characteristics. his astute, piercing golden eyes were a good example of what came along with his quirk. more interestingly, his eyes had always had dark markings around them—sharp lines and wings to further add to his birdlike appearance.

since losing his quirk to all for one on that vile day, in a battle that should’ve been won, keigo lost most of those odd little characteristics, the markings around his eyes being one of them. (of course, he never lost his penchant for fried chicken.) now, as the president of the hero public safety commission, he’s tasked with talking to all kinds of different heroes who certainly know who he used to be.

“you okay, kei? i’m gonna move onto the next eye, baby,” you whisper, so as not to startle him when he’s already gotten this relaxed. he nods, lost in thought.

not long after getting the job, keigo rushed to tell you the excellent news, and ask a simple request of you. he’d looked at you with his striking eyes, the skin around them empty and bare.

“so, y’know the marks i had around my eyes? the black birdie ones?” keigo seriously described it to you as if you’d never seen them a day in your life.

“of course, kei. why . . ?”

“so, i’ve gotta go into work and talk to people every day. i’m still hawks, the cool cool cool retired number two prohero, just without the wings and eye makeup.” his voice drifted off as he patted around behind him, momentarily expecting to be met with the softness of his downy vermillion feathers.

you nodded silently, heart squeezing sadly for him. he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat, “anyway, i’d like you to do the eyeliner for me each day. i know, i know, it’s kinda ridiculous, but it would really mean a lot to me.”

keigo looks back wistfully, turning the memory over in his head a few times while you color in the wing and prepare to add the detail to his inner corner, all from memory. as the tip of the pen strokes over the delicate skin, he loosens up more, letting you nudge his face left and right without that nervous stiffness from before.

he notices the way your brows knit in concentration, the tight grip you’ve got on the eyeliner pen, and the lightness in which you use it on him. it’s ridiculous how something so small can mean this much—warmth rises to his cheeks and colors them something rosy.

“and . . done!” you exclaim, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “kei, you’ll love this.”

“lemme see the mirror, dovey,” keigo chuckles happily, gesturing for you to step to the side. as he stares into his reflection in the vanity, he can see red feathers surrounding his shoulders and the space behind them. a squint of his eyes has them fading away, and he clears his throat shakily to focus on the makeup.

behind him, you rest your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly as though you know what he’s thinking. the black makeup around his eyes and in the inner corners looks natural, complimenting his face perfectly. you’d managed to pull something this accurate off, just from memory—keigo sniffles, rising to his feet from the chair. he envelops you in a strong hug, tucking his face into your neck carefully so as not to smear your work.

“you did such a great job, dovey,” keigo whispers into your skin, fingers squeezing you. “i can’t wait for you to do this for me every morning.”

“really?” you ask, swaying a little with him in your arms. “my makeup skills are that good?”

“of course they are!” he exclaims, “but seriously though, thank you. i felt naked without the eyeliner.”

your cheeks warm and you giggle; keigo’s heart flutters with adoration, no longer grounded. he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, but he steps back curiously, fiddling around with the eyeliner pen. you gasp accusingly—he’d swiped it from you without letting you notice.

he flashes you a silly smile, dangling the pen from his fingertips with mirth sparkling in his gold eyes. “hey, mind if i try on you? we can match!”

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[phantasmique]

Summary: it's moments like these where you can hardly recognize Sukuna as the terror that he is. But you aren't complaining.

Warnings: some mentions of violence but overall, just a bunch of fluff. Short and sweet.

Clingy.

It isn't a term that you ever could have imagined using for Lord Sukuna, but as of late, you've been struggling to apply a different word. Possessive certainly comes to mind. And it's definitely fitting for a man like him.

He doesn't share. He doesn't allow other people to so much as entertain the notion that he'd be willing to let another soul touch you - or any of his other concubines for that matter.

But it wasn't a secret, that for whatever reason, you are his favorite. It was a well-known fact in the estate. A truth that was aware to each and every servant housed among his staff. The details of your relationship with the King of Curses are exchanged quietly amongst the laborers and servants. Spoken in confidential hushes within the cover of darkened hallways and private corridors as they all speculate what you might have done to captivate the attentions of the man - an entity, more like. Hardly human anymore.

So it was odd that a beast as sadistic and self-serving as he would allow himself to be fascinated by someone as lowly as you. Even with your own cursed technique, you were hardly anything to gawk over, especially not by the likes of Ryomen Sukuna, a being that could rip you apart in the blink of an eye.

And yet, he does just the opposite, often demanding that you keep close to him. Always ordered to trail after him, expected to be just as consistent and loyal as a shadow.

You aren't ignorant to the glares that it earns you. Mostly from the other courtesans. Not that you could entirely blame them.

In this world, Sukuna's attention equals protection, and if you were in their positions, to him so entirely focused on another person, would feel like a death sentence.

But their desperation leaves them to try too hard. Coquettishly batting their eyelashes and swinging their hips in the hopes of enticing him. It was all too heavy handed. Their desperation was all obvious, and some of the most skilled amongst the harem are crumbling beneath their attempts to keep him intrigued.

He pays them little mind. Nights are still spent with them yes, a hedonist like him always indulging in the pleasures of flesh and life in any facet he can, but he doesn't request for any of them to trail after him in the way you're commanded to.

They are all free to wonder about the estate unrestrained, but you are to have your movements under constant scrutiny. If on the off chance you aren't at your position at your lord's side, you're accompanied by an escort in some capacity. It doesn't matter if you're safe within the estate grounds, you're to be monitored.

He keeps you guarded. Kept hidden like some sort of relic. Some sort of revered treasure that's been contained and bound down tight for his eyes only.

But you'd be lying if you didn't find some pleasure in it.

There's something empowering about having a man - a monster - as infamous as the King of Curses entranced by you. Even if he vehemently denies such a notion.

A displeased scowl always mars his features whenever the idea of it is implicated. A scoff puffing from his chest as though he's equally amused and offended, but you know that you have him.

His affections aren't sweet or docile. He doesn't care in a way that's light, delicate or embracing. He's all teeth and hunger. An endless chasm of want and greed that latches on like a parasite, sinking his claws into you until they're bone deep, rooted into your marrow to consume you from the inside out. Until there's nothing left.

It would be so easy to trick yourself into believing that he's some sort of old god. A deity of discord and avarice that's been written out of history, smeared from ancient scrolls and bygone texts by the very mortals that were meant to fear and worship him.

But he was human once long before he had become twisted and gnarled by his own corruption. Many see his existence as a blight on the earth. Sorcerers deeming his being as a blight on jujutsu. A disfigurement. A creature. More monster than man.

But to you, his horror only made him even more bewitching. There's a beauty in his violence. It's a temptation that you can't ignore. It draws you too him like a lure. A fly foolishly gliding into a vat of honey, willfully weighing down its own wings in the adhesive glimmer of gold and amber, drowning itself in the rich saccharine pools. A moth fluttering closer and closer to an open fire - not a single ember, not a delicate flame, but a full inferno; a pyre scorching its path across a forest, carving its destructive mark across the earth in licks of blazing, molten heat. And you long to burn.

You'd die a thousand times to gaze upon him.

Fortunately, you don't have to.

He wants you alive. Safe and secure regardless of how indifferent he expresses himself to be. You can see past the slivers in his facade - well, it's not quite a facade. He truly is callous. Apathetic and cold. He's an entity that deals in extremes. That lives to satisfy his own hubris and hunger, but you think that's why you've managed to slip past his rough exterior and nestle a place for yourself near that motionless, dead heart of his.

It was your determination. Your own unyielding pride that would endear you to him, as much frustration and sadistic glee that it had caused him in the beginning. He had delighted in trying to wear you down. Prodding and clawing at you in the hopes of seeing the head that you always held high hang down in defeat.

To snuff out the confidence in you that had been fostered and inherited from the generations of sorcerers that have come before you.

He's yet to succeed, and you think that is what has drawn him to you. Your refusal to roll over and bear your belly merely because he ordered it. It took years for you to yield to him without rebuttal or open annoyance; for him to know that you weren't simply a dog taught to heel, but you think that he takes pride in knowing that you've fallen to his violent allure.

You doubt he realizes how subdued his become with you. Blind to the extent of his own affections - as edged and barbaric as they often are. But every once in a while, he grows lax underneath your hands. Turning malleable and warm like melted wax. The sharp edges that make him shifting and softening just enough for your palms to glide over him.

He's so different from the beast you had met all those years ago, forced to kneel in order to save your throat while scrutinized you from the height of his throne, all arrogance and cruelty.

And now here he is, face cradled in your palms while you both lounge about, shielded from the gentle golden light of the evening sun by the roof of the yuka. Using your lap as a makeshift cushion while he reclines fully on the floor, his long legs stretched out, a pair of his limbs limp on either side of him while the other set are clasped together by their fingers, resting on his sternum.

It's not exactly the image that you would associate with a king. Much less the King of Curses. Yet here he is, all four of his eyes shut while he draws deep, steady breaths into his lungs.

It'd be easy to think that he's asleep, but you know better. Still, it doesn't keep you from allowing your gaze to dart across his face, taking note of his placid, almost peaceful expression, free from its usual scowling or sneering. The shape of his lips no longer pulled back into a taunting smirk, but neutral and almost soft.

It's a state that not many are honored with seeing, and you can't help but to indulge in it now that you have him here.

You nearly feel like a glutton as you sweep your vision over him in a shameless observation. Letting your focus trace over the tattoos that decorate his body. Slashes of black against the pale shade of his skin.

You've always wondered the meaning of them. You know that some sorcerers will get tattoos that represent aspects of their technique; it bonds them closer to their cursed energy and makes it more fluid to wield. But you can't help but to be reminded of the tattoos forced upon criminals. The markings on his arms are suspiciously similar to the same ones you've seen stamped upon the flesh of delinquents - the lowly men and women that you had been warned about by your mother and escorts while within the city. People who had been branded for their crimes as punishment.

The dark bands encircled around his wrists and biceps share somewhat of a similarity to the tattoos given to thieves, though the placement of them is a little off to be considered truly alike.

With how demented he is, you wouldn't be surprised if he intentionally made them look similar as some sort of twisted way of honoring his many crimes.

It has one of your hands lifting, your fingers slipping from the delicate grip they had on his hair to slip along his chest, feeling his muscle rippling beneath your palm as you brush your fingertips along the ink imbedded into his skin.

A low rumble reverberates from the depths of his ribcage, rising somewhere from within his lungs. It seems like a warning almost, one that anyone else would have heeded, but you keep your hand fixed in place, caressing your thumb just beneath his collarbone.

His eyes peal open then, squinting just enough to glare up at you from his place cradled between the plush of your thighs. Searing red, but the irritation reflecting from them is lazy. An echo of the languid way he's positioned himself within your space.

"I don't recall permitting your hands to wander." It comes out like he's berating you, but he makes no effort to correct your apparent error, remaining motionless and relaxed as you continue to card your other hand through his hair, lightly scratching your nails along his scalp.

You don't miss how his lashes flutter when you do it.

It makes a smile long to pull at the corners of your lips, but years of self-restraint and etiquette keep it from showing. Though you're sure that your mirth is revealed in your eyes.

"What's with all the staring?" He complains idly. His brow raising to further pronounce his question.

"I'm simply admiring my lord," you answer. A truth, and yet the playfulness in your voice is clear.

"As you should be."

You'd scoff if the hand on his chest wasn't so close to the mouth on his stomach. You wouldn't be surprised if he decided to snap it between those massive jaws to reprimand you.

You've seen it yawn open to gnash at limbs, massive teeth sinking into flesh to tear and rip, drinking down blood and shattering bones as easily as brittle branches.

It makes you mindful of how close you allow your fingers to drift, not allowing them to slip past the swell of his firm chest and down near the indention that slices across the width of his abdomen. A hint at the starved chasm that lurks behind it, the rows of fangs that wait to bite and eat.

He's used that mouth against you many times, none of them in such a malicious manner, but you still can't help but to be a little wary of it. You swear that it has a mind of its own sometimes, and you'd hate to be on the receiving end of a more violent kind of appetite.

It still can't keep you from your previous musings, and now that you have him focused you can't ignore the questions that are gathering in your mind.

"Your tattoos - are they amplifiers? I've seen a few sorcerers apply them to ground their technique."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would. That's why I asked."

He glares at you then. Eyes narrowing in a way that makes you feel like a target. It nearly forces you to brace for a sudden rush of cursed energy, the instinctual part of you warning that he might lash out as punishment, but nothing comes.

There's no prickle that bite across the air, stinging and sharp before it strikes you down, only a delicate brush of a summer breeze as it glides along your skin.

"Are there no bounds to your insolence? I should kill you for that." He grumbles, baring his teeth as though he means to ward you off.

"I apologize, my king. " It sounds like a bluff, even to you, so you're certain that he isn't convinced. The clipped hum you get in response only confirms that he doesn't. "I was only curious."

"Keep your musings to yourself."

It's said sharply. A clear command for you not to prod at him further. Such an ornery, brash creature. You have to fight off the urge to roll your eyes at his curt behavior lest he chastises you more.

He acts as though it's a chore to be in your presence. As though he wasn't the one who had sought you out during your private time - a brief respite from the harsh nature of his courts and the routine of your daily schedule - to crowd himself within the structure of the gazebo, fitting himself along the wooden floor to rest the weight of his head within your lap.

Despite his apparent annoyance, he still doesn't tell you to cease touching him, and you know that one of the easiest ways of coaxing him back into a calm state is to give him attention. Regardless of how that attention is bestowed. Usually it's fear and dread that feeds into his ego the best, the screams and blood of others fueling that sadistic emptiness in him.

But you'll settle for touch for now.

He doesn't command you to halt your movements as you continue to sweep your hands along his body, messaging his chest and gently scratching along his scalp. If possible, it has him relaxing even further, going boneless on the floor with a heavy sigh, but his eyes don't slip shut this time. His lids fall heavy, nearly closing but staying open just enough to continue observing you through his lashes.

It's a cruel juxtaposition that someone who commits so many hideous atrocities is so beautiful.

The sun has crept a little lower in the sky, drifting downward in its course to reach the horizon and it allows glints of light to pour in past the small roof of the yuka. Traces of it catch in his hair, spilling along the soft shade of his hair, sketching over his features in gold. It puts fire in his eyes, glints of light flickering against rich red.

You can't help yourself this time when you allow the hand you have threaded in his hair to shift further down, sketching your fingertips along the structure of armored skin that rests over the right half of his face.

His eyes open a little wider then, latching onto your form with curiosity, and the hints of something more guarded present in them.

It doesn't stop you though. Perhaps a little foolish of you while it feels as though you're wandering into dangerous territory. A hare darting in front of a wolf's maw. Inviting itself to be bitten.

You feel possessed as you continue to cradle his face in your palm, struck by an emotion that is far too tender and enthralling for a being like him, but you have no desire to resist it.

The almost mask-like structure on his face is hard beneath your fingers, softened only slightly by the layer of calloused skin that's molded over it. The only comparison that you can make is if you were to touch a bit of bone poking out beneath the skin, like the jut of someone's hip or the point of an elbow. Rigid and tough, but also smooth in a way that's organic.

You make sure to be light, to keep your fingers from accidentally slipping close to his eyes and possibly irritating them. Surprisingly, he doesn't order you to remove your hands, allowing you to continue your exploration, letting your fingers sweep over the harsh edges and the divots of the natural armor.

You aren't sure how long you remain that way. Sweeping your hands over him, feeling the soft tufts of his hair on your palm and the rigid texture of his face along your fingers. Time slips away from you like this, and the delicate hiss of the wind threading through the trees and the perfumed scent of blossoms that it carries all fades into the background.

It all seems so unimportant. Useless as he stares up at you with something conflicted in his gaze. As though he's torn between lashing out or sinking further into your warmth.

"You're beautiful." It leaves you so naturally. The ease of it catching even you off guard. It's as though your soul is admitting a truth, one that you've been aware of but never had the courage to speak.

Suddenly you feel so bare. As though you've accidentally shed a meticulous piece of armor from yourself and allowed him to peek past. And the captivated look that you can feel weighing on your features certainly isn't helping.

He's equally as surprised. His eyes widening just the slightest in his shock, but it doesn't take long for him to recover, masking the expression with a scowl. You're certain that it's the exact look that many of his victims have been pinned by just before their death comes, delivered to them in a serrated rush of cursed energy or the lethal cut of his talons. And yet you can't bring yourself to be afraid. Not while he's cradled in the shape of your lap. Lazy and content despite his flaring.

"I'll cut out your tongue if you mean to insult me."

"I wouldn't think of such a thing." You promise. You're being entirely honest. The sincerity in your voice is as alive and burning as a fire. You can hardly place exactly when you've grown fond of him, just when exactly he had managed to bury beneath your skin to make a home for himself within your chest.

It's worrying just how much you've come to care for him. A development that your past self would have denied vehemently; you would have seen it as an ultimate betrayal to yourself, to your lineage and purpose. But you truly can't be bothered to worry about any of that now.

Not while something that nearly looks vulnerable passes through the rich shade of his eyes. A brief, defenseless show of emotion that he's quick to snuff out and hide with that typical brand of cold indifference; so quick that you hardly register it at all.

A hum leaves him them. More of a grumble. As though he's unconvinced of your assurance. But he doesn't bother with a verbal comment, only a sigh as he somehow settles further into your lap.

"Some of them are."

"Hm?"

"Amplifiers." He practically growls it out. Like clarifying is something tedious. A personal affront. He's glaring again. Squinting up at you like you're an annoyance - a gnat buzzing around his ear even while he's all but invited himself into your personal space.

It doesn't take you long to reconnect to your previous line of questioning. You can't help but to be a little surprised that he's bothered to circle back and answer them. Of course he has to do it on his own time. When he feels like doing so, dragging it out for the sake of keeping you from being in control - even in regard to something as simple as a couple harmless questions. Such a bullheaded bastard. Not that you'd tell him that.

A part of you longs to ask him just which ones specifically are amplifiers, which technique they belong to. The concept of such tattoos has always been fascinating to you. You've crossed paths with a fair share of sorcerers who have marked their skin with charged ink, rituals and their cursed energy directed to bind with the dark pigment.

Like a chain used to tether a wayward dog. A binding used to manage energy that's often too potent, too volatile otherwise.

With how practiced Sukuna is now with his abilities, wielding it with ease, bearing it like a second skin, he must have gotten the tattoos when he was still young and learning. Still a little disconnected from the cursed energy projecting from his body, simmering through his veins like the blood of a demigod, but too inexperienced to properly control it.

It makes you wonder what he may have been like way back then. It nearly seems impossible to imagine him as a child, with him being more beast than man. You're just barely able to visualize it, a much younger version of his current self, the sharp contour of his jaw much more rounded and youthful, shaping into chubby cheeks. Plump with stubborn baby fat.

He's probably always had that glare of his. Now it's an expression that induces fear and panic. The lethal hue of red that seems to burn in his eyes turning some of the bravest of sorcerers into pale comparisons of themselves. Back then that fearsome scowl must have been little more than a pout. A petulant furrow between his brows as glared up with wide, peevish eyes.

He must have been a handful for whatever soul had the misfortune of taking care of him, not that he's any easier to please now.

"You've got that stupid expression on your face again. Get rid of it." He snaps, fangs glinting from past his lips. "And did I tell you to cease touching me?"

You hadn't realized that your hands had slipped a little from crown of his head, fingers lifted to hover of his hair. The command doesn't annoy you as it probably should, as it would have in the past, it has a smile perking at your lips instead. Amused and soft. A reflection of the warmth blossoming inside the pit of your chest; a drop of sunlight burning and thriving.

You'd love to point out to him that he was complaining earlier about you doing just that, and now here he is, ordering you to touch him like some kind of spoiled house cat.

You'll keep your comments to yourself for now. All snide remarks and annoyance aside, he seems to be in a fairly good mood today, and you'd hate to ruin it now that you've got him rested in your lap.

Your hands seem to have minds of their own, muscles shifting to thread your fingers back through his hair, scratching your nails along his scalp. You don't miss the minute way his neck twitches, the movement nudging his chin back just the slightest to press his head into the gentle glide of your fingers. Subconsciously seeking out the comfort they provide.

He looks calm. At peace, eyelashes fluttering lightly before they slip shut. He sags down fully. Going lax and almost boneless. The weight of his head in your lap is nearly crushing, but you can't be bothered to voice complaints or to try and shift him into a more comfortable position.

You'll gladly bear the weight of him regardless of how much discomfort it might bring. And in moments like this, with him cradled by your body, relaxed and content from the warmth of your skin and the sun, you think you'd do anything for him. You'd kill for him.

You think you'd die for him too.

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

Award for the most nonsensical, contradictory comments goes to this person:

Maybe YOU need to read the text you misquote and misunderstand. Galadriel scorned Sauron, fancy that! Wow, it's almost like ROP contradicts this. And just so we're clear: scorning someone is pretty different from making googly eyes at them. Galadriel's scorn is canon; the latter is not.

Nowhere in this block of text - or in all of canon - do I see the suggestion that Annatar asked Galadriel to be his queen, or posed as a mortal man, or showed up on a random raft in the Sundering Seas, or any other abysmal writing choice ROP made. So whatever point you think you're making, you're not making it well.

We cannot assume that Galadriel's only reason for scorning Annatar would be knowing his true identify. Do you remember how she scorned Feanor simply because she sensed a darkness in him? It's pretty obvious that she found Annatar to be suspicious but didn't know exactly who he was and thus had nothing concrete to tell the other Elves, but she certainly didn't trust him. If Galadriel had known Annatar was Sauron, she absolutely would have told the other Elves. But what does ROP do? It has Galadriel fall for Sauron's deception hook, line and sinker (not scorn him), then discover who he is and just... not tell anyone! The guy who killed her brother and countless other Elves.

It's never "made explicit" that her speech is "her own"? Usually people's words are their own, so maybe jot that down.

You said it's "weird" that I "want" Galadriel to be power hungry of her own free will... Uh, what? This is not about what I want Galadriel to be, this is about canon. Then you say that Galadriel has been a "power hungry narcissist" since Tolkien created a backstory for her... You're not making sense. You're telling me I "want" Galadriel to be power hungry... and that she actually is? What exactly is your big breakthrough here?

My post above was literally about how Galadriel's ambition is her own and it comes from her and is not an idea Sauron planted in her mind. So after lecturing me on getting it wrong you say: "Sauron offers her what she truly desires - that desire did not come from Sauron." Yes, I know. Thank you. That was literally my point. My LITERAL POINT was that Galadriel has always had ambition and a desire to rule, and that ambition came from her, and so attributing her speech in FOTR to Sauron is fucking absurd.

Uh, guys? Don't confuse your crappy televised fanfic for the story that Tolkien actually wrote.

Galadriel was never "under Sauron's thrall." That's something ROP made up. In Unfinished Tales, she was the only one in Eregion who suspected that Annatar was lying about being an emissary of the Valar. Celebrimbor was deceived by him. She was not. She was certainly not "under his thrall." No, not even because she had Nenya.

Yes, when Frodo offered her the One Ring, she was tempted. It could have given her the power to prevent the fading of Lothlórien. But when she makes this speech in the book, and in the Peter Jackson movies, it's her own thought, she's not repeating something that Sauron said to her once:

“You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!”

These are Galadriel's words. Her words. Not Sauron's. And she was tempted by the One Ring because she could have been a more powerful queen, not Sauron's queen. Like, you guys really took one of the most powerful and complex female characters in Tolkien's works and you made her story all about a man and his power over her and his manipulation of her. Fuck off.

And stop tagging ROP as Lord of the Rings.

[directdogman]

Stupid question, but it's leaving me sleepless, for some reason.

Assuming furries exist in the dialtown universe, would they have the same head as animals in dialtown do? Or would they be based off animals head pre-dial-up? Antique style, I guess.

My assumption is that object heads would be the norm since they'd likely be easier to spoof (and could even double as a socially acceptable way to appear more like your fursona in daily life), but there'd almost certainly be a split in people's preference due to a cultural quirk caused by one of the Dialup's intended psychological effects.

Crown wanted to blur the visual boundary between humans and animals in order to hopefully incite humans to care more about the various species. While one way to do this was to give animals unique niches/functions (which many do not perform at all usefully, as reality isn't written like an episode of the Flintstones), another key aspect of the change was to make humans care more by making animals look more like people - and vice versa. People care about what they can intrinsically relate to (and of course, see themselves in.)

This idea didn't really pan out on any level.

Anyway, this is where we get into the psychological nuance caused by this shift and why either design might be preferable.

Wearing an object head that matches your fursona's species, assuming you want to be seen as an anthropomorphic animal in DT's universe is certainly one way of going about it. Hell, you could literally swap your original head's casing out for a reworked replacement outer layer of whatever your animal OC's head is, and it'd look exactly like the animal you're basing it off. Imagine if you could buy a blinking/hyperreactive fursuit head in our reality that looked 100% like an actual fox's face. I'm sure there's people out there who'd want one.

...However, that brings up a question: What if someone didn't want to look like an actual animal? Most fursuits don't aim to be truly photo-realistic of course and instead go for something more stylized. Flesh head designs could be the equivalent of this since it's something you can't encounter in the wild in any form.

Ironically, I could also imagine a small minority of people who want their designs to be more animalistic taking this approach too, since like I said, the Dialup made humans and animals look more similar. By creating something that appears fundamentally organic around a normally inorganic head, you would look less human in DT's world - and by proxy, more like an animal.

Finally, worth noting: I'd have to imagine that there's also a lot of zoology nerds who have an interest in pre-Dialup biology and would thus want it depicted in their designs. Y'know, kinda like how people make fursuits of extinct animals like saber-tooth tigers. A lot of furries are zoology enthusiasts and I have to imagine finding out at some point in your early life that EVERY animal had bizarrely different designs just a few generations ago would be something people would wanna get artistic millage out of.

Hope this helps!

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 5/?

Reader has a bike now ^_^ Also thought it was time to change up the gif, since it's both of them now ;3 Next chapter in a week! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 1373

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It’s been another week since your last run-in with Wade, two weeks since you met them both. An ache has settled in your upper back, flowing through the muscles any time you bend over just the smallest amount. It feels like soreness after a hard workout, but you have done no such thing, doctor’s (Evelyn) orders.

You have taken another job though, you can’t just sit around and wait for your cuts to fully heal (luckily they are healing well), you would become too restless. You need to do something.

Which leads you to where you are now.

The warehouse has three levels with a big opening in the middle to hoist up crates and goods. You were there to keep watch over a shipment of guns on the upper floor, when they had stormed in on the first floor. Wade had been yelling, what you don’t know, but the gunshots following his words leaves you no doubt that it wasn’t nice. 

Because of fucking course they are a package deal even with this. Not that Logan’s claws had given you the impression that he was a demure housewife, but still. You hadn’t expected the yellow and blue suit, complete with a scowl with pointy ends on top that covers the upper half of his face. You don’t recognise him at first, but then there’s claws, and Wade jumping around in his Deadpool suit, so it’s not hard to tell it’s Logan under the yellow. 

Red and yellow. 

Like ketchup and mustard. 

You snort to yourself. 

Being able to recognise Wade’s voice even without words already should irk you, but this time it leaves you with an advantage, as you can stay back, and don’t rush into something unknown, or a situation you know you won't win.

You still haven’t made yourself known to them, preferring to watch as they utterly fuck up your job. You have to admit, they are effective as a team. Knowing when to split up, and when to draw back together. It’s not perfect, both of them absorb several gunshots, but thanks to their apparent unending healing factor they just keep going. 

They end up in the middle of the first floor, with people coming at them in a seemingly never ending attack. You lean on the railing around the hole on the third floor, gun in hand, just watching. Logan slices through people with ease, claws glinting in the light even when they are soaked with blood. Wade switches between his guns and katanas, seeking out targets with precision. Their fighting styles are very different, but their legs are hard at work. Logan moves around in bursts, occasionally running on all fours, sometimes kicking when he’s in range of people so they stumble and he can easily skewer them with his claws. Wade bounces around, kicking with purpose, breaking bones, and necks when he hits perfectly. Once even strangling someone with his thighs.

Your bond hums with excitement when you pay attention to it, because of course they are having fun with this.

As much as you are enjoying the show, you are honestly just starting to think about slinking away before they notice you, but then there’s suddenly another henchman rushing in next to you, firing down as he yells at you.

“Why the fuck aren’t you doing anything?!” He hits Logan’s shoulder as he yells. This gets Logan’s attention, making him look all the way up to you. He spots the man next to you first, as he is still firing, but he now starts missing Logan as he starts moving towards a column in the corner of the opening. He spots you next, and it’s only because you’ve been watching him move without hesitation for several minutes that you see the minute stutter in his step.

Next thing you know, his claws are digging into concrete, and he’s fucking climbing the fucking column. 

“You fucking idiot.” You hiss at the man next to you as you both draw back. He reloads his gun, you turn around to look for an exit.

You spot the red exit sign and door just as you hear a thud behind you. You move towards the door. There’s a scream behind you, another thud, before the warehouse falls mostly silent except from a scuffle somewhere below you. 

Then Logan calls your name. 

You freeze, fingers tightening around your gun. You could use it, but all you’ll likely get in return for your effort is a gun sliced in half (you had already seen Logan do that to others), and a pissed off Logan.

So you keep it down as you turn around, gaze as neutral as you can keep it as you look at him, absentmindedly noticing it’s mostly quiet around you now. You realize his mask has white eyes in the black, similar to Wade’s, but a little smaller. His claws retract, slowly disappearing into his hands as you watch them.

“Logan.” Your voice offers no warmth. “Fancy outfit.” He licks his lips, shifting on his feet, seemingly not knowing what to say to you now that he has your attention, not that he gets much time to speak, as you hear Wade yell for him.

“Where are you hiding peanut?”

“Third floor!” Then there’s footsteps on the stairs, and Wade appears, red suit and all. He spots you and Logan standing several feet apart, both tense, and starts, what you can honest to god only describe as skipping, over to Logan.

“We have to stop meeting like this pookie.” He slings an arm around Logan, winking at you. “Would ruin our reputation, fraternizing with the enemy.” He glances to the side, noticing the body laying there. “Thank you convenient anonymous henchman.” You tilt your head at them, squinting at Wade as anger simmers through you, muting anything that might be sent through their bonds to you.

“Don’t fucking call me that, and we are not doing anything.”

“You sure? The tension was thicker than Al’s oatmeal when I got here.”

“I was thinking of where to shoot Logan so I could run, and not get stopped.” A little white lie, because you weren’t then, but you are now. And Wade too of course. Logan scowls, you see his fists clenched tight, making you wonder how close his claws are to coming out again.

“Like I said, tension! Also, since you insist on keeping it professional at work, it’s Wolverine when we’re working.” You blink. Huh. You raise a brow.

“A weasel?” 

“A mustelid actually! Weasels are part of it, but so are badgers an-”

“Shut the fuck up Wade.” Logan, or Wolverine apparently, growls out as he looks between the two of you. He still looks unsure of what to actually say or do, but you’ll make that decision for him. For both of them.

“I’m just gonna keep doing what I was doing, and leave.” Before they can say anything or protest, you raise your gun, shooting off two quick shots. The first hits Wolverine’s knee, shattering his kneecap, the other does the same to Deadpool.

“Motherfucker!” They both lose their balance at the unexpected hits, Logan grunts in pain and Wade swears loudly as they crumple to the floor.

You turn around and sprint for the exit, finding yourself on a roof with a fire escape, which you run over to and quickly climb down. Your breath is in your throat, you hear Wade yell your name just as your boots hit the ground. You look up, both of them are looking over the edge of the building. You look away, running over to where you parked your black Yamaha R7 when you arrived earlier. You almost forgo the helmet to make it out of there quicker, but remind yourself through the urge to get away that that would suck with the wind and insects, so you put it on. The bike purrs to life, drowning out another call of your name. 

This time it's your turn to burn out of there as your soulmates watch your tail light disappear into the night.

Your shoulders ache as you lean forward, trying to make yourself as aerodynamic as possible as you rush away from your soulmates. 

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] The love status of the members of the most famous Slovenian band.

Joker Out has finally been revealed!

Original article written by Iva Mila Brigljevic for net.hr and published on the 5th of November 2024 on NET.hr website.

English translation by IG marija_rocen, review by @moonlvster and IG mia_djordjevic_ig, proofread by @flowerlotus8 .

FOR NET.HR / The love status of the members of the most famous Slovenian band Joker Out has finally been revealed!

Their Balkan tour will start soon as well.

Slovenian band Joker Out wins the audience over with their infectious indie rock sound and energetic performances. Founded in 2016, the band quickly gained popularity in the Balkans due to their authenticity. They gained European fame after their performance at the Eurovision Song Contest in 2023, when they represented Slovenia with the song 'Carpe Diem' and got in the finals. In the finals, they finished 21st with 78 points. Despite the fact that they weren't as successful in the finals, they won the hearts of the audience, so 'Carpe Diem' was on numerous music charts throughout Europe, including Croatia.

This month they will perform at Tvornica Kulture in Zagreb for the second time, and on this occasion we spoke with the band's frontman, Bojan Cvjetićanin.

How has your daily life changed after the Eurovision Song Contest?

Well, I think that certainly none of us have travelled as much as we have travelled in the past year and a half. We've been to a lot of new countries and cities, so we've experienced a lot of new cultures. It was interesting to see where these people come from to our concerts. What is their reality? What is their daily life like? What do they watch? What do they see? What do they feel? What do they hear? So, I'd say that the biggest change happened in the transformation from our wardrobes into suitcases.

Where do you perform most often, which performance would you single out as your best?

We've performed the most in Finland, Poland and probably Germany and England, but there are quite a few places where we played a lot. Honestly, it would be hard for me to single out any performance as undisputedly the best. I know there were a couple of performances where we were very surprised by the reaction of the audience. These were, for example, our concert at Belgrade Beer Fest, our concert at Šalata in Zagreb, and our concert at Ruisrock in Finland. Poland also knocked us off our feet, and so on and so forth.

Do fans stop you on the street?

They stop us sometimes. Especially in Slovenia, and it also happens in Finland and the Balkan countries, but it's a very positive thing.

Do you plan to focus only on the Balkan scene or the European scene as well?

The next tour, where we will present our third studio album, starts on the 22nd of November, and it will only be in the Balkans. Our plan and wish was, kind of, to enjoy the tour as much as possible, and that's why we chose this region where we are at home, but next year we will surely return to Europe.

Which performer from the Balkans would you like to collaborate and record a song with?

Given that I'm currently the only one answering, I wouldn't want to answer on behalf of everyone, but I can say for myself that I'd like a song with Zdravko Čolić¹.

¹Zdravko Čolić is a Bosnian-Serbian pop singer and is widely considered one of the greatest vocalists and cultural icons of the former Yugoslavia.

How do you spend your free time?

We spend our free time in different ways, but let's say we do sports. We like reading books. There are some chefs in the band and we love fishing, too.

What's the love status of the band members?

We're absolutely in love with each other and ourselves.

[cassiopeiascorner]

As someone who grew up with autism, I can’t express how liberating that thought was to me in high school. Growing up, I felt both superior and inferior to my peers in all kinds of ways because I was so intrinsically different from them. I felt like an alien, and like everyone knew some secret truth that I didn’t. I remember spying on my peer’s conversations as a kid to discover the way “real people” talked.

I didn’t have my diagnosis yet, but I already knew that somehow, I wasn’t like other people, wasn’t on “equal footing” with them. I had to be either worse or better than them, right? I actually vividly remember thinking to myself at some point that since I couldn’t best them socially, I had to best them another way (academically or else). Or that, since people thought I was weird, I would act weird purposefully to get at them/rebel/show them what weird actually looked like (yeah, I was a pretty weird kid). And obviously none of that actually worked, but that thought ate at me so much that I couldn’t sleep at night because I just kept wondering what was so off with me.

Getting my diagnosis was so freeing. One, it explained what was, indeed, wrong with me, and two, it allowed me to see that I wasn’t better or worse than anybody else. I was different, yes, but I was also just the same. I liked the same things as other people (just with varying levels of intensity), I dressed the same, I woke up the same, brushed my teeth the same, watched the same movies, played the same games, talked the same. I wasn’t so different, after all. And yes, those are such small things to worry about, but that’s just part of the experience of being autistic. You have to compare yourself to others and adjust your behaviour accordingly, because that stuff doesn’t come to you as easily as it does other people. And obviously, that’s why autistic people mask (even to a point that they don’t recognize it as masking anymore, but that’s another topic).

Anyways, realizing that I was just like other people freed me so much, and my mental health improved considerably. This concern probably affects most people, but it certainly affects neurodivergent people on a much deeper level.

When I hear people say that getting a diagnosis doesn’t change anything, it irks me so much. Getting my diagnosis literally changed my life. It changed so many autistic people’s.

When I see other autistic people my age (or older) with the mentality I had back then, it makes me so sad because I know exactly how it feels. To feel like you’re on the sidelines and you can never run as fast as the players on the field. But at some point, you have to let go of that thought. You have to move past that and see that yeah, you’re different, but you’re also just the same as other people. Autistic communities show us that there are millions of people out there with the same struggles that understand and respect you.

You’re not special. You’re autistic, but you’re not special. You’re not worse than other people, and you’re not better.

*Quick side note cause I have to mention this but you’re also not better than others just because you’re “spiritually awakened”. If you think that, sincerely, grow up.

I really cannot emphasize enough the mental health benefits of abandoning the idea that you're special.

[max1461]

There are all kinds of perspectives that I have that, as a younger person, I thought were fairly normal—not universal but certainly not radical–which as I've gotten older it's started to seem as though I'm fairly alone in. Or, not alone, but in a significant minority.

Like, I think it's rather nice that there all kinds of different people in the world: that people have different skills, preferences, tastes and so on than one another. It's nice that for a lot of the jobs I would hate doing, there are people out there who really like them. And for all the jobs I would be bad at, there are people out there who are good at them. It's nice that there are people with a variety of tastes and perspectives, because they produce works of art, ideas, etc. that I would never have come up with, that have the potential to expand my own view of the world. It's nice that people are out there pursuing various different strategies and agendas in... life, politics, science, whatever, because we don't a priori know what's going to turn out well and what isn't. This doesn't mean I think all variation is desirable; I mean, it sucks that there are people out there who think e.g. that slavery is ok or whatever, but on the whole I'm glad to live in a diverse world (not buzzword "diverse", although certainly not not buzzword "diverse") with diverse people, and more than willing to put up with the difficulties it presents.

I mean, I guess I'm just restarting my infamous pluralist values here.

Anyway, when I was, say, 16, I thought that this was a thoroughly normie opinion, and that even among people who had a political axe to grind with buzzword diversity it was pretty common to have some respect for diversity as such when it wasn't politically markèd.

But apparently, like, not as much as I thought? I suppose for a variety of incidental reasons I grew up around people who modeled this for me, but in actuality it's a much rarer perspective than I thought.

[edennill]

In which I puzzle over metaphysical implications as regards the peoples inhabiting Arda

fyi, a certain familiarity with the (predominantly Christian, I think) concept of fallenness/unfallenness is assumed, although it turns out that it doesn't necessarily work here. Feel free to ask for clarifications

So. I'm once again wracking my head as I try to make sense of what I shall call: 'metaphysical states' of elves, men and others, because the subject is emphasised and lampshaded a lot in the books, and I can't force it all to make sense when taken together.

Ainur are a specific case and I should really leave them aside for now. They certainly can fall — and, unlike angels, change their mind, apparently (which goes both ways) — although they do seem to be more all-or-nothing than everyone else. Still, I think as long as one doesn't go into the implications of time and what its existence or nonexistence changes, they're almost straightforward. But then you have:

Elves. The 'Fall of the Noldor' is very strongly emphasised as a metaphysical fall from grace and further evils, even ones unconnected with the matter of the Silmarils themselves, are blamed on it later (Maeglin!) So far so good. Except. Non-Noldor are also liable to behave in ways that are not exemplary in the slightest, and it doesn't seem to signify a cesura in the same way — and the Noldor in Valinor were able to commit acts that perhaps weren't as heinous as what we call crimes, but weren't good either. Getting into rancid fights with your brother isn't much in comparison, but these are not the actions of unfallen people.

And on the other hand, authorial quote (paraphrased): "Elves in some ways represent Man in an unfallen state". And I'm inclined to agree: they aren't subject to death (except they may be killed, so doesn't this already break down?), and there is something very poignant in the image of their artistry, "extempt from earthly limitations". But they do not lose it, not in any easily tangible way. We can argue that evil diminishes creativity and it's probably true, but there is no hard line anyone passes. And this is again lampshaded in-world with the Númenoreans ("If we die because of some darkness that lay on us before, than why don't the Noldor?").

Which brings us to Men. The existence of a direct cause-effect relationship between fallenness and mortality in Arda cannot be ascertained (Even taking into account a Catholic framework, I feel that logically it need not be the same relationship as the Biblical one since, in contrast with the Garden of Eden, the world was already marred when humans appeared). While I consider the Tale of Adanel to be Gondorian in origin, I can also see the possibility that whatever Men did back then, beyond memory (or in other words "we purposefully forgot") was just that much worse than Alqualondë and the Oath. In any case, Man is very straightforwardly Fallen.

Hobbits. The rules for Halflings are presumably the same as for Men, which is certainly notable, given that they seem to be the least inclined to evil of all incarnates. Not perfect, not by a long shot, but unknowing of wars and violence. A pastoral image, only in-world it's true.

And at the same time, my musings bring me to the unexpected conclusion that dwarves are the only notable "generally unfallen" kindred. Which is, in context of everything that regards them, weird — because by their actions, they are very similar to Men. And yet — either the circumstances of their creation make them disadvantaged from the start (which doesn't really make that much sense), or something happened off-screen, or it's the same case as Saeros, or Thingol sending Beren to his death.

Ents? I honestly don't know if we've seen enough of ents to judge, although they seem generally good-inclined? Huorns are a different kettle of fish.

Before I try to explain orcs, it would do well to know what they are exactly.

In other words, I cannot make sense of it all, enough that I've resorted to calling the default state of incarnates in Arda "semi-fallen" (or, as is, "semi-unfallen"). Which is not a thing that makes sense, philosophically speaking — but I can find no better way.

(Although, to be quite honest, the default state of being in Arda (because of the discord?) seems to be significantly different from the unfallen state of Man as described by religious thinkers in some ways, and not all of them regard merely such things as physical marring, so perhaps "semi" isn't the worst way to describe it.)

In any case, if someone has thoughts on the subject, I'm very open to hearing them.

[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he trusted less that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading 😘🤍🤍

Masterlist

[kainuhsblog]

Mr. Choi from 2A • Jiung Choi

prompt         More Than Words Elementary gets the surprise of a lifetime when the kids figure out that the two kindest teachers for 4th and 5th grade are married. pairing          teacher!jiung x fem!reader genre           school teachers, established relationship, fluff warnings      mentions of food, playful banter, school word count    3,796 (this story wrote itself) a/n                 hi! i'm back! I have something written this time! jiung is my ultimate bias, so i’ve been itching to write something for him. please note that this fic will be told in 3rd pov, but kind of centric to none of the main characters, but to one of jiung’s students, emma! 

want more piwon posts from me? check out my fake texts here and here!

There are many things in the world that Emma loves. Her parents, for one –  obviously. They spoil her endlessly, and even gave her a little brother, so she loves them. 

Emma also loves trucks. She loves them simply because her dad always lifts her up to get in the thing. He even has to do a little stretch to get in himself.  Big trucks that make even her dad seem small are always fun. 

Third on the list – not that it has a particular order – will have to go to the bakery near her house. Ms. Lim makes the best cupcakes known to man, and her mom loves them just as much as she does, so they like to splurge on them every once in a while. 

Fourth; the quaint burger place lodged in an alleyway on that busy street Emma always forgets the name of. Every once in a while, her mom and dad take her (and her little brother, now) to the place, and she always manages to see her uncle manning the bar. She wonders if he works there. 

And last, but certainly not least; her 4th grade teacher Mr. Choi. Mr. Choi never enters the room without a fond smile on his face as he greets the class in the morning. He never lets them leave without some words of praise when they leave the class in the afternoon. 

Mr. Choi is very attentive, explaining things a million times over for everyone to understand (who knew there were different methods to learning how to multiply big numbers?) and is very interactive with his class. Mr. Choi is probably the kindest person Emma knows. 

If someone were to come up to her and shove a microphone and a camera in her face (because people do that now) and ask her who she thought the kindest person in the world was, her first answer would definitely be Mr. Choi. That’s just how good he is. 

Anyways, before the author starts her spiel on the guy, let’s get into the actual story – shall we?

The list of things that Emma loves in this world differ depending on what day you ask her. Her constants will always be her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, and Mr. Choi from class 2A. 

Lately though, Emma thinks that a new constant might add to her list of things she loves in this world. The thought came to her mind halfway through the previous semester. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

At the beginning of her first semester in fourth grade, a new teacher for fifth grade arrived in bubbly fashion. With beautiful kind eyes and a charming smile; the new teacher tumbled her way into the lives of everyone at More Than Words Elementary School. 

Emma was one of the people who only entertained things within her bubble. As a bubble dweller, the only things she knew dwelled in her bubble with her. She didn’t know anything about new staff or teachers unless someone entered her bubble to tell her. Which is how she found out about the new teacher in the first place. 

She had many friends within the school who greeted her in the mornings, and her cousin Shelby was friends with her next door neighbor Tommy. Those two always brought her the gossip from their fifth grade circle. 

They were all hanging out on the playground for recess when Shelby mentioned it to Emma. Something along the lines of the nicest teacher ever just came to their school or something. Emma excused Shelby’s comments because the elder didn’t have Mr. Choi in fourth grade. 

Tommy described the woman like she hung the stars in the sky every single night for him to look at and ponder her. Shelby told him to write a book if he wanted to be that sappy. Emma laughed even if she didn’t get the reference all too well. 

For the rest of that week, the new teacher was all her fifth grade friends seemed to want to talk about. She stopped listening to them halfway through. Mr. Choi was the nicest teacher ever, so she wanted to see his competition with her own two eyes. 

If someone was listening to her thoughts, then they made quick plans, because the next day called for a multitude of rain and the absence of half of the students in her small school. Emma still went to school because her mom and dad had jobs to go to despite the rain, and her grandma was out of the country so no one her parents trusted could watch their kids. 

She walked happily to her class, thinking of the pastries she would smell in the afternoon (as it was the day her and her mom went to the bakery) when she spotted a beautiful woman standing outside her class door talking to Mr. Choi. Her smile stretched like the sun on the horizon as it rose in the morning. A warmth like no other had hit Emma the moment she saw it. 

Emma slowed her pace as she neared the classroom, and she heard the familiar words of reassurance from her teacher to the lady in front of him to ease her worries about whatever she stressed about. The kind words sounded a bit different in Emma’s ears though. 

Emma greeted the adults like she was taught, and both Mr. Choi and the teacher greeted her with similar waves of kindness. The other teacher even knew her name. Why would the other teacher know her name?

Emma tilted her head in confusion and stood before the two teachers. The lady laughed and nudged Mr. Choi to get him to notice. Then, the teacher moved her left hand from the books she clung so tightly to her chest and extended it to the little girl before her. 

“Hi Emma Kang, I’m the new fifth grade teacher Ms. (last name). It’s very nice to meet you!” The teacher introduced, and the shock couldn’t come fast enough as it morphed Emma’s face. 

The lady before her was the kind teacher Shelby and Tommy told her about. Emma shook Ms. (last name)’s hand, feeling the familiar weight of an engagement band (her aunt Nina had just gotten engaged last month, so she knows how it feels on someone’s hand), and told the teacher that it was nice to meet her as well. 

Turns out, Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were discussing the merge of their classrooms for the day so that they can watch movies and play games. None of the other fifth grade teachers wanted to do such things with their classes, (as it was still the beginning of the semester) but Mr. Choi thought it would be fun to let his kids relax for one day. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Rainy days had now meant joint classes after the success of the first one that day, and Emma realized that she hoped for rainy days a lot more, so that she can see Ms. (last name) again and again and again. This was when she thought of the possibility of a new constant on her list. 

Emma thinks that Ms. (last name) felt like the sun, especially when she brightened up the classrooms. Ms. (last name) was extra involved in just about everything, and Emma found herself wanting to join a few things just to see the bubbly teacher again. 

Now, you (as the reader) might be wondering where I’ll fit the synopsis into this story, and I’m getting there. Anyways, back to the story. 

Emma also notices how much livelier Mr. Choi seemed to get whenever Ms. (last name) would come around their area, for rainy days or not. The two teachers seemed really close, like they were friends before working together. Well, that’s how Emma saw it. Shelby and Tommy seemed to disagree though. 

The two fifth graders often talked about how they coax small bits of information out of their homeroom teacher whenever they all can’t seem to understand a particularly hard subject (which is usually math.) Ms. (last name) never got into great detail about a lot of stuff, but she always talked about her fiance with a sense of “love” and “comfort”. 

Emma knew about those feelings and those words, (she’s 9 for crying out loud) but no one ever seemed to explain the concept of love to her in a way where she understood or related to it, so topics like these had her confused.  When she asked what that had to do with anything, Shelby exclaimed that she had a feeling that Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. 

Emma sat there for a long while trying to see things from her cousin’s point of view. Sure, they were friendly and got along well, but a couple? They didn’t seem like a couple. She’s seen a few couples in her nine years on this earth, and her teachers don’t act as gross as those couples. 

Besides, they both arrive in separate cars. From the couples Emma has seen, they usually arrive in the same car, do they not? Her mom and dad are almost always in the same vehicle. Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam never leave without each other at events. Uncle Darren and Aunt Lily only have one car. They drop Shelby to school in it everyday. 

Tommy and Shelby bickered back and forth whilst Emma was left with the most confusing theory of her life. 

Emma decided that day that there was no way Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) were a couple. Well, that was until dinnertime, when she decided to ask the one couple she constantly has to see. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

“Mom, dad, can people be a couple even if they don’t hug and hold hands and kiss and arrive at places in the same car?” She asked them once her food was graced and her mom told her to dig in. 

Both of her parents stopped their utensils from reaching their mouths to look at their daughter, seeing her staring back at them with a curious glint in her eyes. 

“Sweetie, I think we’re gonna need more context than that.” Her mom answered. 

“Your mom’s right, princess. What brought this on so suddenly?” Her dad added on. 

“Well, you guys know my favorite teacher Mr. Choi right?” She started off, watching her parents put down their eating utensils to give her their undivided attention. 

“Yes we do, what about him?” Her dad asked. 

“And you guys know the pretty teacher I told you about a while ago? Ms. (last name)?” She inquired. 

“Yes we do sweetheart.” Her mom answered, picking up her son’s spoon to help him eat his rice. 

“Okay, so today at recess I mentioned to Shelby and Tommy how I thought the teachers were friends before working together because of how well they seem to just – what’s the word I’m looking for?” 

“Coexist?” 

“No not that one … although that one is really good, thanks mom.” 

“Of course!” 

“Cooperate then?” Her dad chimed in, finally picking his utensil up. 

“Oh yes that word! Thank you dad, you’re so smart! Anyways, yes I mentioned it to them, and then Shelby said something about how she thinks they’re a couple? So then I sat there to think about it and that doesn’t make sense? How are they a couple when they don’t kiss and hug and hold hands and go everywhere together and use the same car and have kids?” Emma rambled, getting more confused than ever as she’s explaining it to her parents. 

“Maybe they don’t act that way because kids are present, princess.” Her dad supplied. 

“Dad, you and mom were literally kissing in the kitchen … with me present!” Emma rebutted. 

“That’s because you’re our kid. There’s a difference when it’s your own kid,” Her mom informed. 

“And besides, they work together don’t they? Why act like a couple at work? That’s not very professional.” Her mom continued. 

“You can’t do stuff like that at work?” Emma asked incredulously. 

“No you can’t Emma.” Her dad replied. 

“Wow, you learn something new everyday. What about the car thing then, they’re married and don’t come to work together? That’s so odd. You guys ride to work together all the time.” Emma questioned. 

“Emma first of all, not all couples are married,” Her mom told her, ignoring the gasp of disbelief that escapes her nine year old. 

“Secondly, they probably don’t even live together. Of course they’ll come to work in different cars.” Her mom continued. 

Emma’s shocked beyond words, her brother Eric wasn't paying attention, just eating his food and replaying the opening for power rangers in his mind as he ignored them. Her dad’s just thinking about how all of this could’ve been avoided if they just gave her electronics and discovered the weird stuff on the internet in the first place. He pushed the thought from his mind though, his wife said no so he sticks beside her. 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that couples aren’t married and don’t live together and can’t act gross and work?” Emma asked. 

“Your Aunt Nina and her fiance Sam aren’t married, and they’re a couple.” Her dad answered. 

“They’re practically married.” Emma replied.

“Wait, but do you guys think they’re a couple? An unmarried one who doesn't live together?” Emma followed up. 

She saw her mom and dad rack their brains to see if they remembered anything out of the ordinary between the fourth and fifth grade teachers that night. And then she heard them agree with her crazy claim. 

The next day, when she took Shelby’s side in the argument, their conversations shifted forever. The three friends had made it their new mission to find out if their teachers were really together. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

In between that time, the semester had ended, and the long awaited break had begun. Her mom and dad finally sat her down and told her about the different types of couples and all that jazz. They also took her to see her grandparents, where she stayed with all of her cousins for two weeks. 

Emma, Shelby and Tommy met regularly to talk about their random findings, even during their break. Nothing was bigger than the time Emma saw them both at Ms. Lim’s bakery though. The two teachers didn’t notice her, and she didn’t try to get noticed as she saw them share a slice of cheesecake and basically smiled at each other for five minutes. 

Through it all though, the mission seemed to be leading them practically nowhere. The new semester started with Shelby and Tommy telling Emma how Ms. (last name) came back with a new ring on her finger, signifying that she finally got married. 

Tommy told her to check Mr. Choi’s hands to see if he had a ring on as well to confirm their suspicions. Mr. Choi always had rings on his fingers though, so that plan was fruitless. 

For days on end, Emma tried to figure out if there was a new ring on Mr. Choi’s finger, and for days on end it seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Just as Emma was about to give up though, the answers to their questions fell right into her lap. 

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

It was a rainy Thursday, and like all rainy days, Emma gets dropped off to school earlier than usual. Emma told her parents goodbye at the entrance of the school, watching her dad’s truck drive off with her mom waving at her wildly from the window. 

Emma began to turn around to head inside before hearing the familiar purr of her teacher’s SUV pulling into the parking lot. She then stopped fully once she saw her teacher help Ms. (last name) out of the car?!?!!?!?! 

Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) just came out of the same car. Mr. Choi is helping Ms. (last name) with her bags. Mr. Choi – OH MY GOODNESS DID MR. CHOI JUST KISS MS. (LAST NAME)’S FOREHEAD? were the thoughts that ran through Emma’s mind once she saw what transpired. 

Emma wanted to stand there and rack her brain to find the sense in all of what had happened, but the teachers were both coming towards the entrance? Oh my goodness, Emma Kang. Go and run into a hole right now. 

Emma picked up her pace and starts to walk away, but the warm tilt of a harmonious tone traveled to her ears as Ms. (last name) greeted her from her walk toward the door. Emma stopped like a deer in headlights, and turned slowly to greet the two teachers. 

My goodness, they’re even sharing an umbrella. Emma Kang, for the first time in her life, just wants to not be a curious kid. Having to see this from her favorite teachers isn’t good for her psyche. 

“Emma Kang, it’s been a while. How are you doing this morning? Are you ready for our rainy day movie session? I didn’t expect the rain to happen so quickly into the semester, but man am I excited for our class to get together again and have some fun. Do you want to help Mr. Choi and I choose the first movie? We’ve been arguing about the lineup all –” 

“(First name), you’re rambling.” Mr. Choi interrupted, and only one thing entered Emma’s mind like a blaring siren once she saw Ms. (last name) stop and giggle about it, apologizing to the kid. 

“You two are married.” Emma blurted out in the midst of Ms. (last name)’s apology, causing the two teachers to freeze up at the accusation – no, the declaration. 

They both rubbed their necks in tandem; Ms. (last name) laughing nervously and suddenly finding interest in the school motto placed on the wall beside them. Mr. Choi looked at his wife, and then looked at his (now unfortunate) brightest student.

“You two are married right? Mr. Choi kissed your forehead and you guys got out of the same car and you guys are even holding pinkies over the handle of Ms. (last name)’s bag.” Emma asked, pointing out her deductions to the newlyweds before her. 

The air stilled once she continued on with her findings, almost laughing at the fact that they immediately let go of each others’ pinkies. Mr. Choi told Emma to follow them, walking from the entrance and to the classroom of 2A. 

Emma watched as they both started to unpack the bags, placing stuff here and there and working together like they’ve been doing this for years. Emma watched a new level of their cooperation unfold on that rainy thursday. 

After they had set up everything, Ms. (last name) walked over to Mr. Choi, and pulled at his blazer to get his attention. They had a discussion with wide eyes and ragged whispers for about five minutes before Mr. Choi raised his hands in defeat. That’s when Emma noticed that he forwent the rings he usually donned, one simple band on his left ring finger catching the light in the room. 

“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Ms. (last name) said after a few moments of awkward silence. 

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers once she realized that they were admitting to her declarations. 

“You guys really are married?” She carefully asked. 

“Yes, yes we are. We recently tied the knot during the break.” Mr. Choi answers, stifling his laughter once he sees confusion slide across his student’s face. 

“What does tying a knot have to do with your marriage?” Emma confusingly questioned.

“It’s an expression. One of the many ways of saying you got married without actually saying it.” Ms. (last name) replies, pinching her husband for laughing. 

“Oh.” Is all Emma said in response. 

The adults studied her face for any odd reactions from Emma Kang, who started to have another mental battle with herself. 

“We actually wanted to tell you and the other kids about it later on.” Mr. Choi supplies helplessly. 

That didn’t seem to work though, as Emma continued to just … blankly stare at them. 

“Are you upset, Emma Kang?” Ms. (last name) asked after almost three minutes of heavy silence. 

Then Emma blinks a few times, looking up at them with something close to joy swimming in her eyes. Mr. Choi and Ms. (last name) let out the breath they didn’t even know they were holding. 

“Upset? This is the best news I’ve gotten all school year. Why would I be upset when the two nicest people in the world are married?” Emma exclaims. 

“I thought you’d be upset that we didn’t say anything.” Mr. Choi replied. 

“I thought you had a crush on Mr. Choi, to be honest.” Ms. (last name) replied at the same time. 

“I’m nine.” Emma deadpanned. 

“When I was nine, I had a crush on my music teacher. I don’t see how that excuse is relevant.” Ms. (last name) said. 

“(First name) you were just an odd kid.” Mr. Choi followed up. 

Emma chuckled when she saw Ms. (last name) hit Mr. Choi on the arm for his comment. 

“You who was crushing over Sam from ‘Danny Phantom’ at that exact age, puh-lease.” Ms. (last name) accused. 

“At least she and I were closer in age than you and your old shriveled up music teacher.” Mr. Choi responded. 

“Sam isn’t even real.” Ms. (last name) said.

“Neither was your chance with that wrinkly old music teacher.” Mr. Choi replied. 

“He was 25 oh my goodness Jiung, stop calling him old.” Ms. (last name) exclaimed. 

“Even worse.” Mr. Choi replied. 

The adults stopped their playful banter when they heard Emma cracking up from her seat. 

“You guys are the sweetest.” She replied once she stopped laughing, shocked at the fond looks that stretched their smiles wide at her.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ 

The rainy day ended up with Emma harboring their secret for them, a lot of movies, and a kid crashing from a sugar rush after sneakily eating too much candy. 

Later that semester, the teachers decided to tell their class separately about their marriage, which breaks another spout of gossip between Emma, Shelby and Tommy. The news spread through More Than Words Elementary like wildfire that day. 

Questions were thrown at the couple for weeks to come after that, and a new quest (bet) was formed between the kid trio. Guessing when they’d have their first kid. 

Emma now helped the kind teachers set up for movie days whenever it rained, and a new constant had been added to Emma’s long list of things she loved.  Her parents (and brother), trucks, Ms. Lim’s bakery, the burger place, Ms. (last name) and Mr. Choi from Class 2A. That was her list of constants.

[moomstersnuffer]

I have some crazy conspiracy theories:

I always get this really strange, really disappointed, really let down feeling(depression am i right)when I actually stop and think about the relationship dynamics in Moominvalley. I mean, there are so many people who wholeheartedly believe in and support Snufmin but does anyone realize that if they were made canon, it would likely be more unusual and out of the norm for Moominvalley than it would be for our world of reality?

Let's start with the og crew: Moominpapa(Moomintroll's father), the Joxter(Snufkin's father), and the Muddler(Sniff's father). They were a trio of good friends going on adventures and then you look at their children and see how they too are a trio of good friends(I can't assume for two of them though...)going on adventures. Generally, I feel like Moominpapa and Joxter are the ones talked about the most and that's certainly true of Moomintroll and Snufkin as well, although we do love our Muddler and Sniff.

Then you look at what happened after their adventure days were over. They all got married(well most of them anyways) and found girls to love and had children. That's the norm. That's what's expected. That's their childrens' fate.

In the eyes of the kids who watch the show, Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden are soulmates. They’re the perfect couple. They'll end up like Moominmama and Moominpapa. And hopefully, Sniff and Snufkin will find someone too. I mean, I don't how many of you have even heard of the Snufkin and Alicia ship. I don't like it but that would be the norm...I guess. Sorry I really don't like that ship :/

It's never even implied or mentioned ever but I just feel like the unmentioned norm would be expected from like, everyone.

However, I think there’s more hope for the future now since it's now implied that Sniff doesn't really feel romantic feelings for anyone. I think it's safe to even mention that Snorkmaiden isn't a moomin like Moomintroll's parents both are(I mean it's another difference between generations to pin my delusions to)And despite that weird ship with Alicia, I doubt there's anyone on Snufkin’s radar except Moomintroll.

That brings this whole spiel to an even sadder conspiracy: Snufkin is the only one of the two who harbors romantic feelings.

I can't name certain instances because I have short term memory loss but I think this a very plausible theory. There really isn't a romantic interest for Snufkin in the series unless you count when his own step sis tried to get with him in the anime(like wtf was that?) Anyways, Moomintroll, on the other hand, has Snorkmaiden. My thing is, he either loves Snufkin platonically or he realizes he feels something more but doesn't want to break the social norm and disappoint people.

it's gotta be one of those two and since i'm a shipper I gotta lean toward the latter.

(I actually tried writing a fanfic about this a few months ago but I dropped it temporarily. I think I'll pick it up soon because I did like it I just got insecure lol)

But really all i'm doing here is throwing words in your face because I rewatched some s2-s3 episodes and got mad all over again. So yeah.

That's all I have to say today. I honestly think I say more on this site than I do in real life which is really sad but that's life these days. Nobody around to talk to about this stuff except you guys.

Thanks for reading whoever ended up reading this! I'm sorry if I left you more confused than you were before.

'Night, tumblr

[coraniaid]

Reverse Unpopular Opinion: Season Four of BtVS

[Reverse unpopular opinion meme.]

I’ve been (very, very slowly) rewatching Season 4 on and off all year (and occasionally writing Tumblr posts complaining about this very process about the episodes I’ve been watching), and I think it’s fair to say that this is definitely not the best way to enjoy any season of television.  

That being said, I feel I’d be lying at this point if I pretended this was my absolute favorite season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  In hindsight, the show was in a strange transitory place this year: having lost some of the grounding framework that the high school setting gave the first three seasons of the show – as well as having suddenly lost some of its actors and writers to the new Angel spin-off – and not yet having quite figured out what it was going to do instead.  One can imagine some alternate reality where the show ended up taking a very different direction after this season.

That being said, here are five things I like a lot about Season 4, with as few caveats as I can manage:

I think the opening four episodes of this season – The Freshman, Living Conditions, The Harsh Light Of Day, Fear Itself – are as strong as, if not stronger than, the first four episodes of any other season of the show.  Every other season has at least one dodgy episode in this opening block – in fact Season 3, my favorite season of them all, manages to have two of them! – but where is the bad episode here?  The Freshman is a criminally underrated season opener.  Living Conditions is a fun character episode and a great showcase for SMG to act in ways she doesn’t normally get to on this show.  Fear Itself is the best Halloween episode the show ever did and it’s not even especially close.  The Harsh Light Of Day is my least favorite of the four, for reasons I guess it would be against the spirit of the game to go into, but I certainly wouldn’t say it was a bad episode by any means.  Perhaps none of these episodes would trouble my personal top ten, but they are four very solid episodes nonetheless.

While Anya had of course appeared in a handful of Season 3 episodes, I think Season 4 is the point where Emma Caulfield really makes the role her own.  This season’s version of the character – a blunt-speaking outsider whose romantic struggles are often deliberately contrasted with Buffy’s own [in the aforementioned The Harsh Light Of Day, for example] and who is inexplicably attracted to Xander Harris – could easily have come across as a fairly lazy attempt to replace Cordelia Chase, and I think it’s largely to Caulfield’s credit that she doesn’t.  Anya feels very much like her own person this season, and an increasingly integral member of the group.  It’s a performance that retroactively redefines the character: of course this is who Anya is.  Of course she always acted this way. It's only when you back and rewatch The Wish or Doppelgangland that you realize she didn't. And I think it’s pretty obvious, for example, that when people [e.g. people like me] go back to write Season 3 fanfiction where Anya features more heavily than in canon they [again, meaning me] invariably end up writing the Season 4 version of the character instead.  Anyanka might have appeared for the first time in Season 3, but Anya belongs to Season 4.

I really like how important to the show Willow has become at this point and how much of this season is all about her.  Just go back and look at the first season, in which Willow is arguably the member of the Core Four the writers cared least about – when she existed mainly to nurse a sad unrequited crush on Xander and to be good with computers when the plot required someone to be – and then compare that to this season, where she is Buffy’s best friend and roommate, unambiguously the second most important Scooby, and the center of a – genuinely pretty groundbreaking for the time – .season long subplot about coming out as a lesbian.  And of course Amber Benson is great as Tara too.  I’ve criticized the character of Oz for being very transparently written just to be Willow’s Nice Supportive Boyfriend and never becoming much more than that, and on paper you could level the same sort of charge at Tara.  And sure, obviously she was written to be Willow’s girlfriend and it’s impossible to seriously pretend otherwise.  But I think Tara manages to become a more rounded character than Oz very quickly. Even in this season, when she doesn’t yet have much connection to the others (she will, later, go on to become a key member of the group and a friend of Buffy's in ways I don’t think Oz was) she feels a little more complex than he did.

Faith is in this season!  I don’t just mean in the two parter This Year’s Girl / Who Are You? either. Of course, both of these episodes are great: the scene in the church in Who Are You? In which Faith (in Buffy’s body) breaks down while fighting Buffy (in Faith’s body), -- screaming repeatedly at her own reflection that she’s “nothing”, “disgusting”, and a "murderous bitch" -- is one of my favorites in the whole show.  But Faith feels like a real presence in the show even in the episodes she’s not actually in herself.  Unlike Kendra or Jenny in previous seasons, or even Cordelia the season, the other characters still talk about her and remember she existed when it’s appropriate that they do so (and in a way that they won’t really do again until … well, until Faith comes back in Season 7’s Dirty Girls).

Finally, Restless is possibly the best episode the show ever did, and certainly one of its most creative.  Willow’s dream sequence in particular is fantastically well done. I think this might be my favorite single act in all of Buffy.  Why this all works for me – apart from the fact that the show now has years of history to fall back on and reference – is that it’s an example of the show being utterly unafraid to play to its strengths.  Characterisation, dream sequences, dialogue, foreshadowing, oddly striking visuals, random moments of comedy … these – rather than tightly written plots or rigorously consistent world-building or anything that requires a working knowledge of world history or how the US military functions or what capitalism actually is – are the show’s strengths.  So Restless embraces all of these elements, and just doesn’t bother with anything else.  And the result is a season finale that – by virtue of not really being a season finale at all, at least according to the usual rules – is not quite like any other season finale the show ever did.  Which is, on reflection, a pretty fitting end to Season 4, a season of the show not quite like any of the others. 

[xavier-elrose]

It turns out that most superheroes don't automatically know what, exactly, their power is. Heck, some of them don't even notice that they have powers, at least at first.

It turns out that most superheroes don't see a reflection of themselves, with their powers listed and described, upon the moment they first get their powers.

Really, it was just one power. But it was a doozy, and there were lots of details to know.

My power was Mirror.

I mirrored that which I wished to mirror. The first order of business was to mirror myself- something I did the moment I got my powers, and have been doing ever since. I found out, much later, that my particular power isn't actually that rare- no rarer than, say, fire or ice powers.

But people with my power are rare, because once they cease to mirror themselves, they cease to be at all.

Believe it or not, that's actually the less horrifying option. Given the human tendency to focus on the negative, someone who thoughtlessly reflected the world around them would be...horrifying.

But mirroring isn't an all-or-nothing thing. I can mirror myself, while also mirroring other things.

I can, for example, mirror the power and destructive potential of natural disasters.

Humans don't really think about the sheer force behind certain disasters. They think about the destruction, but rarely consider just how small a portion of the power of a storm goes to destroying. The vast majority is spent on less destructive things, not least of which is simply...being the storm.

I can bring a lot of raw power to disaster cleanup and relief. Power like that I can mirror with a fair bit of separation in time and space. Not that much, but...enough.

Being precise with it is harder, but less difficult than you might think. As I said, I don't have to just mirror one thing.

Remember what Mister Rogers said: look for the helpers. Always there are helpers, and always I can mirror them.

The mix is quite potent. My arrival at a disaster scene generally means that things are going to get better, and get better quickly.

It keeps me busy.

And that's enough reason, in and of itself. Really, it is. There's more to doing good than punching people. Really, a remarkably small portion of doing good involves punching people right in their dumb faces.

But there's another reason I don't partake in super fights.

Mirrors are blind. They don't see, they only reflect. And while I do still reflect myself...well, part of me is the mirror power. I have more than a little trouble seeing certain things.

Faces, for one. Not just faces, in fact. I can't really tell people apart at all. Mirrors are shallow, and something about my mind now just...doesn't engage with people at more than the most shallow level.

Not what they look like. My powers aren't quite that literal.

What they do.

And not in a long-term sense. Immediate actions, their consequences, their reverberations. People are what people do, and for me that's...unusually literal.

I'd be a terrifying force in combat. Mirroring your powers, your strength, your skill...with my own thrown in, as well. Reflecting attacks, illusory copies...you'd be fighting yourself with extra abilities. And that's assuming it's a duel. In a melee...I would automatically be the strongest combatant. Almost certainly by a wide margin.

But how do you tell a hero from a villain? The differences are almost always beyond the depth of my mirror-vision- motivations and goals and principles. Even when the line isn't normally blurry, it's beyond my ability to tell. Violence is violence, and I can't spot which I ought to oppose, and which I ought to support.

So instead I do the good I can do. And though I do understand that sometimes the greatest good legitimately does require violence...

Well, mirrors never lie. I'd never yet seen a super-fight where I could tell good from bad.

Maybe my power was telling me something.

You're a superhero who specializes exclusively in stopping disasters. The other heroes just don't understand why you need to remain neutral to the villains…