#goy shut up challenge

[stereotypicaljewishmother]

How I feel talking to antisemites when they think they know anything Jewish better than me:

[spale-vosver]

Jumblr, what is your most hated goysplain?

Mine is "uhm well you shouldn't say Jew if you're not Jewish, that's derogatory". That has literally never been true and only makes you look like an idiot, it's literally how we refer to ourselves and isn't derogatory unless you make it. Also no one wants to have to write "Jewish people" every five seconds during a discussion on Judaism that's just too many letters /hj

[feral-space-faerie]

How to explain to this goy that just because we dated for 3 months doesn't mean i need your weird thoughts in my inbox like;

"I thought this guy was gonna assume my pentacle was actually a star of David, and he was gonna be antisemitic to me! But then he didn't and wasn't, and he was normal!"

Like okay. You made up someone to get mad at as a non-Jew who I'm sure means well but always needs corrected ANY TIME the topic was Judaism. Because you're always a little wrong but speaking with some semblance of authority on the topic. Cause you dated me, and one other Jew once.

She means well and I know that but also I'm cringing out of my body because there's more than enough real antisemitism happening that actual Jews experience so I actually don't want to hear about your made up story that only makes my anxiety get bad for NOTHING

Is my generational trauma a joke to you

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Disgraced apple pie

“Can you go anywhere else?” Hero turns around to see the Villain in one of the booths of their favorite diner. “It’s my favorite diner to go to after getting my ass kicked by you and your friends,” they answer, trying to keep the conversation light. Hero recognizes Villain as one of Supervillain's closest allies. They know from multiple meetings that they are one of, if not the most dangerous villain in the city. After Supervillain, of course. They also know Villain won't attack without any provocation unlike Other Villain.

“They’re not my friends,” Villain sighs, stabbing their pie with a fork. "Colleagues at best.” Hero slides into the seat in front of Villain. “Colleagues then. Why aren’t you celebrating your victory?” “Why would I celebrate something when it’s a daily occurrence?” Villain says, looking at them with a deadly glare.

“Ouch, no need to rub it in like that,” They react almost theatrically. Hero takes a sip from their strawberry milkshake as they look at Villain’s diner. A ripped apart apple pie and a black coffee. Villain keeps stabbing the perfectly crafted pie but doesn't take a single bite. “Not hungry?” Hero asks with their sweetest voice, trying not to sound hostile. It's still a dangerous, superpowered villain in front of them.

“Why do you care?” Villain says while continuing to massacre the pie. “I don't. I was just wondering,” Hero smiles. They felt the familiar knot in their stomach known as anxiety settle. Did that anger them? Did they go too far?

“You're not eating much either,” Villain points at their milkshake. “It's more than enough.” they answer, feeling their hungry stomach growl. Their paychecks have been less and less ever since the amount of villain attacks increased. The Agency wants them to pay for the property damage, like they can do anything about it. Well, it was either their salary or their dorm provided by the Agency. They would much rather have a roof over their head than a full stomach.

“I can hear your stomach,” The voice brings them back to reality. “Oh, it's fine. Don't worry,” they reply, taking another sip from the milkshake. “Want mine?” Villain asks as they push forward the murdered pie. “No, thanks,” Hero says as they push the pie back. It still looks good, even in its destroyed state. “I have food at home.”

“You're lying. I don't like liars,” Villain says with the hint of a threat in their voice. They pull the plate back towards them and stand up. “ Hey, where are you goi-” “Shut up, I am getting you some food” Villain interrupts.

Hero watches as the tall figure walks over to the counter. Their shadow attached innocently at their feet. They make some small talk with the lady behind the counter while waiting for the pie. While they are paying, their shadow makes an unnatural twitch. A twitch that Hero knows is just innocent against what it looks like when unleashed.

Villain turns around and sits back down, accompanied by a cherry pie. They push it towards Hero, alongside a fork. “Eat up,” they say, picking up their own fork. “I can't pay you back,” Hero says, placing the fork back on the table. “No need. Consider it an apology for the property damage.” They answer nonchalantly.

“How do you know about that?” Hero asks. The Agency is very secretive about their financial decisions. There is no way they heard it somewhere. “I have my sources,” Villain smiles. It's not a threatening or condescending smile as they would expect. It's rather playfull, like they are challenging them. “I will find out how you know,” Hero says, trying to sound confident. “I am sure you will,” Villain challenges them, a hint of sarcasm in their voice. As Hero opens their mouth to respond, they see a message appear on Villain’s phone. Villain quickly takes it and reads it.

“Looks like I am going to have to leave you alone with your pie,” Villain says, grabbing their jacket. “See you next time, Hero.” Before Hero could answer, the villain was out the door into the night. They looked back at the pies and pulls the disgraced apple pie towards them. More for them, they guess.

~

Villain sighs as they turn into an alley. They walk straight to the supervillain's lair, not so far from the city center. The text from Supervillain makes their stomach turn.

‘Caught one of their little sidekicks. Wanna play?”

They better be quick before Supervillain loses their patience and takes it out on the poor thing.

Next part

I'm thinking about making this a series, but i am not sure yet. It's currently 3 am so it's probably full of mistakes (sorry, if you find any) but i just wanted to finish this.

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ch.1

tags: rick sanchez x reader, love triangle, rick being rick, rick being mean af as usual, age gap, it will get dark, angst, double ended - you decide it, some chps will be smut, slow burn, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour this chapter: rick sanchez x reader, rick being mean, sfw with some sexual indications word count: 1750

“Listen to me, you bi-bitch. I am not doing this for you, got-got it? I was challenged by someone, and I am not someone who loses and if you spoiled bitch call me an old man again, I’ll make you scream it, understand?”

„What-what the actual fuck is this?!“

The whole Smith family was staring at the most recent weird event in their living room. A girl lying on their floor, alone and unconscious. It was obvious that she wasn’t an alien – judging by her appearance. Summer was focused on her outfit, Beth was checking if she still had a pulse and Jerry was being Jerry (useless).

“Morty – Morty you disgusting little shit! Did you buy a girl from space? Fucking pervert. I’m going to kill you!”, Rick’s voice echoed through the room, spit dripping from his mouth. His grandson instantly denied the accusations vehemently, saying that he is a pervert but not that kind of pervert. Rick was angry, furious even, someone like him – the smartest man alive – didn’t have time for shit like this.

“Um…Dad?”, Beth was holding a piece of paper in her hand instead of her usual glass of red wine, “It’s for you.”

“Wow, Grandpa Rick, maybe you were the one buying some girl like some creep.”

Rick narrowed his eyes at Summer’s remark. As if he would ever need to buy a girl at all. “Shut the fuck up, Summer, before I tell your mum where you hide your sh-shit.” That was enough to shut the redhead up and earn a disapproving look from Beth.

Quickly Rick snatched the note from his daughter’s fingers. A note – something so traditional…weirdly interesting.

Hello Rick C-137, Probably asking yourself why some girl is lying on your floor and why you’re reading a note right now. I’m not going to tell you shit though. Aren’t you the “smartest man” alive? The “rickest Rick”? You’re nothing more than an experiment to me and a dumber version of me anyway. I won’t tell you why she is in your dimension and your universe. I won’t tell you what experiment and what you should or should not achieve. Fuck, I won’t even tell you who she is or where she originated from. I also made sure that you won’t be able to track where she came from and on top of that you will never know who I actually am. Wait until she wakes up or wake her up yourself. I know damn well I piqued your interest, C-137.

He was right. The note did pique his interest, but it also pissed him off. Obviously, it was another Rick – an arrogant motherfucker who challenged Rick. “For f-fuck’s sake. What fucking bullshit is this”, his pale hand dragged down his face before he knelt down, right next to the stranger’s face.

“Wake the fuck u-up, dumb bitch. How can-can you sleep with everyone screaming.”

Dumb Bitch…Those words echoed through your head, jerking you awake. Who was this disrespectful to call you that? You blinked several times, the light from the lamps blinding you.

“O my God, Dad! She’s waking up.”

“Oh geez…I don’t think this is goi-going to end good.”

“I hope she’s cool like a new sister or something, Morty is like so annoying.”

Who was talking? Slowly your eyes adjusted to the new surroundings, and you were met with some old man staring into your soul. His scent was a mixture of alcohol, musk and after-shave. Not a bad smell at all.

“What…Where am I and who the fuck are you, old man?!”, the first thing you did was check your body. Missing limbs? Naked? Bruises? Chained up? No, everything seemed fine yet at the same time nothing was fine.

Your head felt like it was exploding, as if a belt was strapped around it and getting tighter and tighter. The room was unfamiliar just like the people around you. Everyone was screaming. Strangers. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Did they drug me? Your mouth was dry, as if you haven’t drunk any water in days. Did they kidnap me? Thousands of thoughts flooded your brain, and no answer was in sight. The room shrank and shrank and shrank. Why is everyone yelling? Who are these people? Where am I? I can’t breathe! I can’t- 

Rick injected a needle into your neck, pushing a milky liquid into your system. You were having a panic-attack, and he didn’t have the nerves to deal with anymore shit thrown his way. Almost instantly the girl in front of his feet stopped shaking, your breath calmed down as well as your excessive sweating. Meanwhile Rick took a long look at you – you weren’t dirty or anything, the opposite in fact. Your hair was clean and shining while your clothes were spotless and on top of that you smelled phenomenal. A rich vanilla with an undertone of cherry, sweet and sultry. 

“Wh-What did you in-inject her with, Rick?”

“Relax, Morty”, Rick rolled his eyes, “Just didn’t – didn’t want her to lose her shit. Give her a minute, we’ll be able to talk to her then.” Only Rick and the grandkids were left with you now. Beth had to go to work and Jerry was simply overstimulated, not being able to comprehend anything that happened in front of his eyes.

You took a deep breath and sat up; your eyes never left the tall, skinny frame of the older man. “Who are you guys…?”, your voice was timid, but your stare was stern.

“Rick, Morty, Summer. Y-You’re at our house. Don’t ask us why, you were probably tele-teleported here from someone who looks like me. We don’t know shit about you either, dumbass. Do we look like some human-traffickers to you? Another fucking dumbass.”

Suddenly it clicked – Rick Sanchez. You’ve seen his face all over the news again and again. Some mad scientist who was known for teleportation, universes and interdimensional traveling. And he was a fucking asshole. Morty and Summer were his grandkids. At least I know who they are.

“Now, tell me who you are”, Rick reached out and cupped your chin with his calloused fingers. His fingertips felt rough against your soft skin, you felt warmth creep up to your cheeks and spread across your face. With a hiss you slapped his hand away.

“My name is y/n. I’m 21 years old and a psych major at college. I will also be known as the girl who castrated you if you touch me again, old man.”

The last part earned a chuckle from Morty and Summer “Oh, Grandpa Rick got burned! I love you already, girl!” Their joy was short-lived though. Rick yelled at both of them, insulting them every way possible, demanding them to leave the fucking room before he feeds them to his alien-prisoners. Both complied to his command.

“F-fucking listen to me you wannabe mean girl bi-bitch. Some other Rick left a note-note for me, talking about some dumb ass experiment. What happened before you ended up here? Do you even know where you live or you wanna share a bed with this o-old man?”

“I live in….huh…Where do I live? I remember who I am but not a single thing about a family or a living space”, no matter how hard you tried you didn’t actually remember anything about your own life, “The last I recall before waking up is someone saying, “Last Chance, Sweetheart” and that someone sounded exactly like you.”

“For fuck-fuck’s sake! I’m going crazy! I’m going to kill that motherfucking R-Rick!”

Two hours. Two hours passed and Rick tried everything to at least receive a single type of information, just anything. Nothing. Nothing worked. He tried to trace you back to your original universe – apparently you didn’t belong to any. He tried to find other versions of you – a big red error appeared. He couldn’t even extract past memories from your brain. Literally nothing has worked. He failed. Rick Sanchez, the smartest man on earth, failed.

“You know, maybe some memories will come back to me after some time. You don’t have to be yelling all the time…”, you were sitting on a chair, your elbows propped on his workbench and your hands cupping your face. Rick was in fact a weird guy – loud, rude but determined. After hours of listening to his drunken outbursts you just wanted some peace and quiet. Due to Rick kind of being famous on the internet you knew a thing or two about him and what his work was about. “I know you mean well and your actions could help me go back home…if I have a home, that is. You still need to chill though, old man.”

Once again you called Rick an old man. Is that girl serious? “You dumb little…”, you heard him growl as he turned around to face you. The burping, belching genius known was anything but amused. His typically wry grin twisted into a snarl of pure contempt, revealing a glint of madness in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

The furrows on his forehead deepened, accentuating the lines of his craggy face as he scowled, his brows knit together in a storm of frustration. His eyes, usually glazed with a combination of apathy and brilliance, now burned with a fiery intensity that could rival the brightest supernova in the universe.

“Listen to me, you bi-bitch. I am not doing this for you, got-got it? I was challenged by someone, and I am not someone who loses”, Rick made his way over to you. Slowly, like a predator nearing his prey. His hand gripped your chair to make you face him. You felt yourself push back into the seat. He was too close and you two were all alone in his garage. One hand was now next to your head while the other was gripping your thigh. You could feel his breath blowing against your now hot, blushed face, his musk clouding your senses, his hand burning into your skin. “And if you spoiled bitch call me an old man again, I’ll make you scream it, understand?”

“Listen to me, Rick old man Sanchez. I’m neither spoiled nor a bitch. And your pathetic attempt of whatever this is isn’t working.” Harsh words which didn’t match your bright red cheeks or beating heart. Your own body was betraying you. “Fuck you and fuck this garage. I’m going to chill with your grandkids.”

A smirk grazed Rick’s lips as you stood up and left without looking back. Interesting. Who knew that embarrassing you would be that much fun? You’re feisty, witty and bratty and not a bad sight to the eye.

“Ah, makes me want to tame that little girl.”

[robrae-is-forever]

RobRae Week 2023 Day 1!!

@fuckyeahrobrae

"I can feel something there..."

For once, Robin was sitting on his bed in his room as opposed to his cramped office or the gym. His foot tapped incessantly, the sound it made bouncing off the floor being completely ignored as he kept his eyes closed. He'd been there since this morning, after a quiet breakfast had left him complaining about a mild headache and he'd excused himself to some solitude. Robin had sat for a while, then tried to keep himself busy by reorganizing things in his room, but no matter what the feeling had been ever present all morning.

"Some after-effect of the toxin, maybe? But Cyborg said I was clean and there was nothing left in my system..."

He frowned as the feeling in his head faded for a moment only to return stronger than before. It was like he was being poked with something sharp- but not painfully, rather, it was something with a pointed it gently pushing against his mind.

"Raven?" He thought. He jolted upright at the sudden feeling of alarm in his mind. It felt strange: it was like he'd been startled because someone next to him had been startled rather than himself. Then the feeling faded outright and he stood up. Making his way down the hall and taking the elevator to the floor beneath them, he walked up to her door and knocked. "Raven? You in there?" He let his hand rest against the doorframe and strained his ears to hear for footsteps. Just when he was about to knock again, the door opened just enough for one eye to peek through.

"Yes?" She asked.

Unsure of how else to start, he simply asked: "Are you doing something?"

Her frown was barely visible in the shadow of her room. "Uhh..."

"I mean- Are you casting a spell, or did you?" He clarified.

Though she was known for her calm, collected, near apathetic demeanor, Robin saw that briefest of flashes in her eyes. He'd felt something too, though he couldn't quite explain it- he knew Raven well, but he'd never been able to guess her intent before. "No-"

Robin very quickly brought his foot forward to catch the door when she tried to close it. "You're doing something, I can tell." He narrowed his eyes at her, daring to argue.

"Oh? How exactly can you tell?" She challenged.

"I-" He hesitated, eyes looking between hers before he brought his foot back. "It's just a feeling I've got."

Raven slowly opened the door all the way and leaned forward to peer up at him, slowly tilting her head from one side to the other. Then, she reached forward to grab his shirt between a finger and a thumb and pulled him into the room. The door swished shut behind them, and Robin slowly followed behind her while he took in the various furniture items and magical artifacts she kept there. He had been in her room a few times before, but he'd never had the time to really take in all the details.

"Sit there." Raven motioned to a spot in the center of the room, and a few items landed in front of him, carried by her magic: a shallow pan, jars filled with various powders, and candles. Raven sat across from him, and with a snap of her fingers caused the jars to open and fill the pan between them. The candles settled in a circle around the pan, and Raven chanted, "Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!"

There was a bright flash that lit up the dark room, and when Robin's vision returned, he saw something connecting him and Raven: there was a pale blue thread starting from the center of his chest and reaching across to end at hers. He gasped and blinked, then asked, "What is that?" He reached up to touch it, but his hands passed through it, whatever it was.

"Oh no..." Raven quickly stood up, and the thread connecting them faded, but somehow Robin knew it was still there. She quickly grabbed a book off one of her shelves and started flipping through the pages. "This shouldn't be... Look, it says it right here..." She mumbled as she flipped the same page back and forth as though she was expecting something new to appear on it if she did it enough times.

"Raven, what's going on?" Robin stood up and turned to face her, closing the distance between them.

"I did cast a spell- the other night, do you remember?" She lowered the book as she looked between them.

Robin grit his teeth. "I remember. You were in my mind, telling me Slade wasn't real." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But wait, I thought that was just some kind of telepathy spell. If it wasn't-"

Raven offered him the book, and Robin took it from her. Although the page was written in a runic text that he didn't know, there was a diagram of two people connected by a thread that he understood perfectly.

"It wasn't a telepathy spell. It was a binding spell, one that connected our minds." She explained. "But it shouldn't have been permanent, I mean, look here-" She pointed at a part of the page near the middle, "This paragraph explains it all, and it doesn't say anything about it having lasting effects."

Robin flipped through the surrounding pages, but couldn't make sense of any of them and handed the book back to Raven. "Maybe it's implied?" He offered as a guess.

Looking back down at it, Raven read the page over and over, until her shoulders dropped and she let out a quiet, "Oh."

Robin snorted. "Guess we've got a bond now."

Raven used her magic to put the book away. "That's all you've got to say?" She asked in exasperation.

"You were trying to save my life." He reminded her softly. "And if you hadn't bought me that time and made me listen, who knows what might have happened?"

"I'd rather not think about it. If I'd lost you to something as stupid as a hallucinogen..." She frowned, and in an uncharacteristic show of emotions he saw her hands clench into fists.

Robin reached over and placed both hands on her arms, and she looked up in surprise. "I never did thank you, you know." He dropped his arms, knowing her general dislike of physical contact. "So thanks for going into my head and helping me see straight. If we can feel each other mentally, I guess, It's a small price to pay. Besides, there are plenty of people I'd rather not be bonded with. I trust you."

Raven blinked, then reached up to pull her hood over her head- but he saw her smile, and thanks to the newfound bond he felt her gratitude through it. "You're welcome."

[fatmoonbear]

goy witches who practice “hermetic qabbalah” shut the fuck up challenge (impossible)

[tempest-toss]

Power Inhibitors, Remake

Following the disastrous containment breach on ██/██/████. The Council vowed that something had to be done, lest the veil be torn to shreds. It was Four, who stepped up to the challenge.

O5-4, "The Werewolf", would present a month later what he referred to as "The Power Inhibitor". When worn it caps a humanoid's anomalous powers, limiting them in power or effectively "shutting them off"; at least until the Inhibitor is taken off, shut down, or otherwise destroyed.

Initially modeled after the thick watch used in [REDACTED BY ORDER OF O5-10], the Power Inhibitor is relatively light and causes no harm when worn. The Inhibitor appears like a generic accessory, usually taking the form of a watch, but upon request has been designed to also take the forms of a necklace, anklet, ring, and headband.

The Inhibitors can be remotely activated and self-destructed, the latter of which was added to make sure no GOIs could get their hands on them.

A recent revision has added higher intensity levels for sapients whose powers are stronger than average. The set intensity level is reflected by a blinking light. Green means that the Inhibitor is set to the lowest setting, for weaker powers. Yellow is moderate and meant for those that have average strength and decent control of their anomaly. Red is reserved for those with little control and/or higher strength gifts. This level is usually reserved for reality-benders.

To make sure they can't be destroyed by those that wear them, different versions are made to be resistant to different possible destructive factors. These include intense heat, flame, intense cold, acid, fall damage, telekinetic attacks, being crushed, and several others not listed.

The Inhibitors can be modded, as seen when Four offered Janus of Bastardverse a modified one to ease the pain as a result of their anomaly. The offer was politely declined.

The Power Inhibitors have been proven to not cause any harm to those that wear them, which can be seen every day since several of the council members themselves wear them.

[msclaritea]

Out of Competition in Venice | Current | The Criterion Collection

Benedict Cumberbatch in Wes Anderson’s The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (2023)

Often at major film festivals, the Out of Competition programs are eclectic grab bags of films that are, on the one hand, too big not to invite, but on the other hand, less than ideal fits for the main competition or any other section. Where else would Venice programmers slot a thirty-nine-minute short from Wes Anderson, a breezy comedy from Richard Linklater, an infrared whatsit from Harmony Korine, or a chilling documentary on the Taliban from Berlin-based Egyptian filmmaker Ibrahim Nash’at?

Out of Competition is also where the hot potatoes usually land. In the days and weeks leading up to the opening of Venice’s eightieth edition, festival director Alberto Barbara kept telling interviewers that he was fully aware that he and his team would catch flak for programming new work from Roman Polanski and Woody Allen. And they did. Polanski’s The Palace, a Y2K comedy set in a luxury hotel, fell dead flat. “I told Roman before the festival that it was weak, but I don’t agree with the critics,” Barbera tells Deadline’s Andreas Wiseman. “I know it’s not a perfect movie, I can see the weaknesses and where it doesn’t work, but it’s not as bad as the critics say. It comes across as mean.”

Coup de chance, Allen’s fiftieth feature, has presented critics with a more complicated challenge because, as Xan Brooks writes in the Guardian, it “turns out to be the best one he’s managed in a decade at least.” Shot by Vittorio Storaro—he’s working digitally here for the first time—and starring Lou de Laâge, Valérie Lemercier, Melvil Poupaud, and Niels Schneider, Coup de chance is the story of a dangerous love affair—in French. The Hollywood Reporter’s Leslie Felperin calls it “a smoothly efficient but oddly anonymous work that looks like it was made by a French director who is a superfan of Allen, but not really Woody himself.” At Vanity Fair, Catherine Bray has a terrific overview of how Polanski, Allen, and their movies have been received in Venice.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar

“So is this a kids’ film or a grown-ups’ film?” asked Erica Wagner when we released Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009), Wes Anderson’s first adaptation of a story by Roald Dahl. “Who says you—or Anderson—have to choose?” The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is the first of four new Dahl adaptations, all of them from shorter stories, and all of them undeniably geared a little more toward an older audience than the one for a tale of an underground rascal in a corduroy suit. Netflix will begin streaming Henry Sugar on September 27 and then successively roll out, one per day, The Swan, The Ratcatcher, and Poison.

Adaptation may not actually be the right word. These films could just as easily be described as staged recitals. The “moment of inspiration” that hit Anderson, as he explains to Netflix’s John DiLillo, came with the realization that he should have his illustrious casts deliver the stories verbatim, albeit in slightly condensed versions. In Henry Sugar, Benedict Cumberbatch, Ralph Fiennes, Dev Patel, Ben Kingsley, Richard Ayoade, and Rupert Friend juggle multiple roles to present the story of a rich and idle fellow, Henry Sugar, who reads about a guru who can see with his eyes shut. Sugar decides that the talent could come in handy at a casino.

Anderson goes “totally off the leash,” writes IndieWire’s David Ehrlich. “We’re talking dioramas, rear-projection, an on-screen stagehand, and a fetishistic degree of pleasure taken in all of the literary quirks that film adaptations exist to avoid.” In short, this is “the most visually inventive film that Anderson has made thus far.” For Leonardo Goi at the Film Stage, there’s “a Brechtian feel that never carries a distancing effect.” At RogerEbert.com, Glenn Kenny is reminded of the work of “the fantastic Czech filmmaker Karel Zeman, who put live-action actors into animated backgrounds.”

“Walls slide away to reveal new locations,” writes Vulture’s Bilge Ebiri, and “one step moves us from one scene to another; clocks advance at super-speed; days, years fly by in a sentence; actors double up on roles; simple, transparent effects are presented as sources of wonderment. The result is delightful, but it also suggests a universe that requires our own imagination to be fully realized—which is, of course, the whole point of the story.”

Hit Man

Richard Linklater tells Deadline’s Joe Utichi that he’d been toying with the idea of making a movie based on Skip Hollandsworth’s article “Hit Man” ever since it appeared in Texas Monthly in 2001. Ten years later, he turned Hollandsworth’s 1998 article, “Midnight in the Garden of East Texas,” into Bernie (2011), but he still couldn’t get a handle on the story of Gary Johnson, a psychology professor moonlighting as a tech guy for the Houston Police Department. When the officer who usually poses as a hit man to lure prospective clients—some might call it entrapment—can’t make a gig, Gary steps in and discovers he’s got a talent for role-playing.

Glen Powell, who worked with Linklater on Fast Food Nation (2006) and Everybody Wants Some!! (2016), suggested massaging the facts of the case, and the actor and director wound up cowriting a story in which Gary (Powell) is so taken by one client, Maddy Masters (Adria Arjona), that he tries to persuade her not to hire him in such a way that the officers listening in won’t catch on. “Faster than you can say Double Indemnity, things take a dark turn,” writes Leslie Felperin.

Just about every review of Hit Man so far has included a declaration that it’s high time Powell, who has appeared as a supporting player in such films as Hidden Figures (2016) and Top Gun: Maverick (2022), landed a starring role. This one “gives Powell the opportunity to put on an array of accents and don a bunch of wigs and false teeth,” writes Vanity Fair’s Richard Lawson. “He’s a creepy British assassin with a red bob, a stern cigar-smoking Russian, a good ol’ boy looking to fuck some shit up. His most successful, and enduring, persona is Ron, a cool customer who is essentially Gary with the confidence and suavity turned up.” Powell “shrewdly keeps the differences between Gary and Ron subtle, but distinct enough that a sudden switch back to Gary after many scenes of Ron arrives as an amusing shock. It’s nimble work, sexy and sweet at once.”

Hit Man “trips along on great writing, Linklater’s witty, light-touch direction, and a rich sense of place,” writes the Telegraph’s Robbie Collin, “but what makes it especially pleasurable is Powell and Arjona’s naturally steamy rapport. Here is a screen couple who look like they really do want to take each other to bed—and since that makes them easy to root for, you find yourself happily overlooking the duo’s own mounting misdeeds. Well aware how the game works, Linklater ever-so-casually pushes his luck on this front right to the limit, but not a millimeter more. What slippery fun it is to watch him get away with it.”

Aggro Dr1ft

Another movie, another hit man. In Harmony Korine’s Aggro Dr1ft, he’s Bo (Jordi Mollà), who’s out to slay a Floridian crime lord (Joshua Tilley). The Hollywood Reporter’s Jordan Mintzer suggests that Aggro Dr1ft is “not really a movie at all, but more like a cross between a movie, a video game, and a flow of hallucinatory images that could play in the background of a live show by rapper Travis Scott—who costars here as a gun-toting, philosophizing killer surrounded by a swarm of twerking booties. Korine calls this new style ‘gamecore,’ which, well, why not.”

“With human figures and landscapes rendered in infrared’s trademark pooling of contours, like day-glo gasoline slicks, the movie is less a matter of story and character than it is about keyed-up headspaces and raved-up palettes,” writes Nicolas Rapold for Sight and Sound. “A Korine creation, generally speaking, is trying to break your brain and free it at the same time with a liberating wrongness.” But “Korine is also an expert mixer, or clasher, or casting agent for reality: a fundamental move of his has been to match American skater-video anarchy with the craft of European cinematographers,” and Aggro Dr1ft is shot by Arnaud Potier, who is known for his work with Mélanie Laurent and Thomas Bidegain. Rapold finds that “the novel world of mashed-up media that Korine envisions as part of his future work still has some ways to go before it feels as nightmare-fuel-ish as a destabilizing hour spent bingeing TikToks.”

“Of all Korine’s decisions,” finds Wendy Ide in Screen, “the least successful is the one to do away with a screenplay, leading to a disjointed, incoherent structure and requiring his largely nonprofessional cast to improvise their lines. This results in something that is not dialogue in the conventional sense but rather darkly ominous phrases repeated in a monotonous, nihilistic mantra until eventually the words lose meaning and it all gets rather tedious.”

[jew-flexive]

just saw someone say that jk rowling’s antisemitism is “mild” and that by pointing it out we’re detracting from discussions about her transphobia.

um. wow. okay. you realize that people can suck in a lot of ways right? you realize that most bigots hate multiple groups of people at once, right? you realize that radical feminism/TERFism itself is steeped in antisemitism, right? right?

like, as an nb jew, i really hate the implication that by discussing her antisemitism i’m ignoring her transphobia or saying that one is worse/better than the other. i hate that jews are being told to sit down and hold our tongues about how much she obviously hates us. trans jews exist, but even if they didn’t, that wouldn’t be an excuse to ignore her antisemitism in order to focus solely on her transphobia. jk rowling is also racist, classist, fatphobic, and ableist. can we not talk about that too?

i do not silence trans voices when i point out other ways jo rowling reveals how morally bankrupt she is. this should not have to be said.

[ryuutchi]

If a Jewish atheist still goes to synagogue, then I suggest that a culturally-Jewish apostate would be one who refuses to enter a synagogue. And if pressed on why, cites Proverbs 5:8, “Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house", and Avodah Zara 17a, which explains that this is a reference to idolatries/heresies and their houses of worship. For the culturally-Jewish apostate may say "Judaism is a false faith, but they have good teachings on religious obstinance."

Literally shut the fuck up. We have our own words and our own identities. I repeat we have our own goddamn words, you Christian-centric toolbarge. If you can't be assed to fucking use them and learn their context, you get to shut up about everything forever.

And then all the Christian centric atheists are like "whyyyyyyyy are Jews so meeeaaaannn I'm atheist not Christiannnnnn" as though they're not actively forcing Christian terminology and definitions on us despite explicitly being told that we have our own understanding of this shit.

[stereotypicaljewishmother]

Antisemites either way don’t get my kindness or respect, but I will never ever extend my basic respect to people who engage in Holocaust denial, revisionism, or inversion.

Sorry not sorry but you don’t deserve. If you are going to give the least amount of respect to the Shoah, and then dare to ask me or other Jews for our kindness, no you don’t get it.

I didn’t grow up crying over my grandparents for you to be an antisemitic bitch.

[decentmonster]

cavetown actually made a 9-part apology video addressing all his problematic things! he wrote them when he was like 14-15 and he's learned a lot since them and actively supports and promotes jewish and black/poc funds now!

His last shitty comment was in 2018, and he's 22 years old. He wrote them and fully believed them when he was 18&19, so don't give us the shitty excuse that he was a child, he's a grown ass white man. Also, if you're not Jewish or a person of color shut the fuck up.

[punk-of-the-opera]

I can never go onto Jewish tik tok because the antisemitic comments make me fucking sick.

TW: ANTISEMITISM

Christians stop forcing their religion onto others challenge.

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

A game of darts

Part 1 ( Disgraced apple pie) Part 3 (A deal)

Villain turns the page of their book. They lean back against the couch in the living room and start reading the first sentence on the page. “Damn it!” the Villains’ Sidekick yells. “How can I lose again!” Other Villain laughs. “Maybe start by not challenging someone with perfect aim as a superpower.”

“I'm not even using my power, Sidekick here is just horrible at darts.” Assassin answers, pulling their dart out of the board. “Bullshit. You are using your power.” Sidekick huffs as they sit down next to Villain on the couch. “Come on, I'll make it fair. One more game,” Assassin says as they pull Sidekick back out of the couch. “Okay, okay,” Sidekick sighs “And I'm winning this time.”

Assassin starts by throwing the first dart, conveniently landing it in the triple 20. And so does the second. And the third. “One hundred and eiightyyy.” Other Villain yells like the presenter of the dart games on TV. “Stop you using your power!” Sidekick argues with Assassin. “I'm not,” Assassin says as they plop down on the couch next to Villain. “What are you reading?” they say as they put their head on Villain's shoulder. Villain sighs. They should've stayed in their room. Way less distractions there. But then they remember what Supervillain said. ‘You have to socialize with your siblings.’ They weren't real siblings, but that's what Supervillain liked to call them. “A book on the history of vikings,” Villain answers. “Sounds interesting.” Assassin answers, snuggling closer to Villain.

“Ha! Suck it, Assassin!” Sidekick yells. Both Villain and Assassin look up at the board. They landed two darts in the triple 20 and one in the 20. “I still have more points” Assassin answers with a smug grin on their face. “Not for long!” they say letting themselves fall onto the couch, replacing Assassin who is getting ready to throw again. Villain really needed to find another reading spot. “It's not fair, Villain. They keep using their power.” Sidekick pouts next to them. It's moments like these where Villain notices how young they actually are.

Maybe they could lend Sidekick a hand. It's handy that the room is lit by a few lamps instead of the big light. Makes it easier to play with a shadow.

“How the hell?!” Assassin's last dart lands in the 1. “What did you do?” Assassin almost flies towards Sidekick. “I did nothing. Why are you so angry? People can miss sometimes…or were you using your power?” Sidekick answers smiling. Villain can't help but smile a little. “Oh, Villain, you absolute assh-”

They were stopped by the sound of laughter. And next a thud as Other Villain falls off their chair. “Oh, Assassin. You should see your face.” Other Villain's eyes begin to water. “Shut up,” Assassin says with venom in their voice. Oh, Assassin and their short fuse, Villain thinks. Right at that moment their phone vibrates.

‘Feed the hero Sidekick ’ appears on the screen. Right. Villain stands up to go to the basement. “Villain, don't leave me alone with Assassin. They're going to kill me,” Sidekick says, grabbing Villain's arm, slightly panicked. “You wanted help, now live with the consequences,” Villain says smiling. Assassin is never going to actually kill them, so Villain doesn't feel too bad leaving them.

They open the door to the basement, warm plate in hand. The Sidekick immediately crawls to the corner of the room. “We're done with that. I am just here to give you some food,” Villain says, trying to sound somewhat comforting. Unfortunately, the stone cold voice they had to learn themselves to speak with, comes out. They place the plate on the ground in front of the sidekick. The Sidekick, however, doesn't make a single move towards the food. “When am I going home?” Sidekick's voice sounds raspy and doesn't sound louder than a whisper. “In a couple of hours, just hang on a little longer,” Villain says. Hero's not going to be happy with them. What does it matter? They're just a hero…

Right?

“Okay…” Sidekick says shakingly. They drag the plate closer and start to eat. Villain sighs. They really hated this. Punch a hero? Sure. Kill an enemy? Fine. Torture a defenseless kid? No, that doesn't sit right with them. But every time they wanted to rebel, to fight the orders, Supervillain would push it out of their mind. They didn't want Supervillain to take control of them again. To make them do things they didn't want to do. Whenever Supervillain did take control, it was like they were a programmed robot. They were still there, but it wasn't them that was moving their body.

They despised it.

By the time they finished their train of thought, Sidekick had finished their meal. Without saying anything, they picked up the plate and went back upstairs, leaving the trembling Sidekick behind.

A few minutes later Villain puts the dirty plate in the soapy water. When they entered the kitchen to put the dirty plate away, they had noticed the pile of dishes. Having nothing better to do, they decided to wash them. They were only a few plates away from finishing when they felt two arms wrap around them from behind and hug them. “Assassin nearly murdered me with a pillow,” the villainous Sidekick mumbles into Villain's shoulder. Villain hums in response. They had a feeling Assassin would do something like that. “Did they eat?” Sidekick asks innocently like the young teenager they are. Again, Villain hums. “Do you mind if I stay here for a minute? I need a hug,” Villain can hear the Sidekick's muffled sniffs. They slowly turn around to face Sidekick. “Another nightmare?” Villain asks quietly. The Sidekick only nods and hugs the Villain even harder, letting the tears flow freely. Although they don't like to admit it, they have a soft spot for Sidekick. Ever since Sidekick was sent on their first mission, Villain has been their caretaker. Helping them through tough nights, giving them fighting tips, teaching them how to do basic stuff like washing their clothes…

“How about you go to your room already? I'll come in a minute.” Villain says to the now calmed down Sidekick. “O-okay,” Sidekick tries to say between the sobs. All they had to do now was finish the dishes and drop off the Hero's sidekick. They hope Hero won't make this too much of a hassle.

~

“Have you gone insane?!” Other Hero yells out in Hero's tiny office. “No, but it is the only way to get them back!” Hero answers, pulling the USB out of the computer. “And lower your voice.”

“You're about to give super secret information to THE supervillain. The Agency is going to literally kill you,” Other Hero says panicked. “Don't worry about that. I used some programs so they will never know it was me.” Hero says, trying to calm down Other Hero. “I hope they don't find out.” they respond, still not convinced. To them it seems stupid to give up such important information for a Sidekick. What Oher Hero doesn't know is that Hero is not just bringing back Sidekick, they also want to find out why Villain would do something so cruel while clearly being so against it.

Next part

Hi! Wow, it took me long to most part 4. I'm very sorry about that. My exams are starting soon so I'm probably going to post even less frequent ( didn't know that was even possible tbh.) Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part. It's a bit all over the place but it hopefully gives a little insight to the future parts.

(Also, every time i get a notification somebody commented, reposted or liked something, i get so excited. I am honestly suprised people like what i write.) (I'll stop ranting now)

[dickgreyson]

i’m sorry you’re being attacked by people who clearly know nothing about you or your blog. shame people can’t be bothered to use a braincell before they start spewing shit.

thanks for standing by me babe, means a lot