#he's just so damn ineffective at being bad

[luveline]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k

tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in. 

You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.

You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person. 

The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley

Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible ! 

she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew 

hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley

"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful." 

Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend. 

"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?" 

You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with." 

The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again. 

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks. 

You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?" 

Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step. 

It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–" 

"Garcia," Hotch interrupts. 

"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days." 

"Address?" Hotch asks. 

"Already sent to your phones." 

"Thank you, Pen," you say. 

"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says. 

Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else. 

You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional. 

You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job. 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him. 

"Hm?" 

"Is everything okay?" 

"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles. 

Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week. 

Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity. 

The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends. 

Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.

"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest." 

You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.

You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat. 

You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again. 

You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands. 

You stare at yourself. 

You look tired. 

Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth. 

Or, it should be. 

A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes. 

A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call. 

"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."

Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep. 

"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?" 

"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking." 

"Do you want to come in?" you ask. 

"Please." 

Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob. 

"It's very clean in here," he says. 

You startle. "What?" 

"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks. 

"No, is it bad?" 

"It's like a paper hurricane."

You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin. 

"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of." 

Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about. 

"Did Derek tell you?" you ask. 

"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.

You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre. 

"Nothing." 

"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing." 

You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.

He leans forward. "What?" 

"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch." 

"I don't feel sorry for you." 

You wince, "No, of course not." 

"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic. 

"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.

His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired." 

"Saying I looked unagreeable." 

"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?" 

Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–" 

Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again. 

"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter." 

"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says. 

He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely. 

"It didn't," you lie. 

Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either. 

"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says. 

You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening. 

"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit." 

"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood. 

"Neither," Hotch says.

You gawp, and then falter. "Why…" 

Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair." 

"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.

His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter. 

"That's not the job," he says.

"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think." 

"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful." 

"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out. 

"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."

You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.

Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better. 

"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else." 

"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely." 

Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands. 

"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."  

Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks. 

"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head. 

"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now." 

You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile. 

You nod again. 

He relaxes. 

"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.

"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it." 

He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight." 

"No more caffeine," you agree. 

He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek. 

—

"Hi, beautiful," Derek says. 

"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says. 

You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good. 

"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly. 

Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey." 

"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself." 

Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid." 

"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot. 

"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees. 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."

"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing. 

"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you. 

You jump half out of your skin. 

"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.

Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?" 

A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears. 

Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is." 

He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling. 

"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love." 

"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer. 

"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."

"She does not," Derek says severely. 

You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.

"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.

"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her. 

You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental. 

"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?" 

You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go. 

 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3

[ddejavvu]

Hi daisy (i hope im right on your name) this has been on my mind for a while jake seresin and you going to take a shower and him joining you the water being to hot and you can tell hes not enjoying it "change the water to what you like " and it being fucking cold as hell and maybe he has a 3 in 1 and you forcing him to use your stuff"i dont want to smell like vanilla coconuts" "thats too damn bad you putting that shit on your hair is gonna make your hairline received by the time you're 45" and him allowing you too

You'd envisioned something sexier showering with Jake for the first time. Maybe something to do with being pressed against the tile wall. Well, you are pressed against the tile wall, but it's because Jake has dropped his shampoo (that's also his conditioner and his bodywash), and he has to bend over in the middle of the stall to retrieve it.

"Okay," You grimace as his feet shift backwards, and he smashes you even further against the wall, "This shower is not big enough for two people."

"We can make it work," Jake insists, but when he finally straightens up, moving back into the water's line of spray, he hisses in pain.

"Jesus," He gripes, clutching at his chest, "Do you think the water could be a bit hotter, darlin'? Don't think it quite fried my nipples this time."

"It's not that hot!" You insist, standing comfortably in the stream, "But if it really bothers you, Jake, just turn it to whatever temperature you want. I don't care."

You do care, it turns out. You'd been expecting him to squeak the 'cold' knob further to the right, but when he cranks the 'hot' off and swivels the 'cold' all the way on, you gasp.

"Ah- Jake!" You squeal, chills erupting over your flesh as the water runs ice cold, "Are you fucking insane? If I wanted to take the polar plunge I'd dive into the arctic ocean!"

"It's not that cold," He scoffs, squirting some of his 3-in-1 abomination into his hands, "Besides, 'thought you didn't care."

"I care," You gush, reaching for the knobs and adjusting them to be equal hot and cold. It's a bland, unfeeling temperature, but it's better than frosting over.

Your final straw is when Jake drags the same handful of soap from his armpit to his scalp. You watch in horror as he lathers in bubbles that he'd just smeared under his arms, reaching behind you for your own shampoo like it's a cross that can repel whatever evil spirits reside in Jake's bottle.

"Rinse that out now," You order, and he looks up at you bewildered.

"What?"

"Rinse that out," You insist, and when he's still frozen, you huff and do it for him. You spray him with the shower head at point blank range, successfully ridding his hair of the lackluster shampoo. He splutters and scoffs at the water in his eyes but he manages to wrestle the sprayer away from you, blinking his wet lashes open to glare at you.

"What was that about?"

"I'm washing your hair," You decide, smearing your hands together and spreading shampoo onto each palm, "That stuff doesn't work, you know that, right? Shampoo and conditioner work in opposite ways, so combining them makes them both ineffective. And would you use conditioner to wash your body?"

"No," He grumbles, and you press a kiss to his soaking wet cheek as a reward.

"Good," You hum, reaching for his scalp and lathering in your shampoo.

"Oh," He laments, "Now I'm gonna smell like lavender."

You let out a teasing giggle, scratching just right at his scalp so that his frown drops and his eyes flutter momentarily shut, "You'll be the prettiest flower in your field."

[milkypompon]

pairing: Nathan Bateman x F!Reader

summary: Did you wake up in your boss' bed after a night together? Oops...

content: Fluff, morning after, talks of sex, sprinkles of smut

wc: 642

a/n: I am balls deep into Nathan Bateman... I'm rewatching Ex Machina and couldn't help but write for this pathetically genius man.

Main Masterlist

–

The bed underneath you was plush… too soft even.

You roll around in the sheets and still haven’t fallen off the single-sized mattress.

Oh, fuck. 

This was a king-sized mattress. 

And it wasn’t yours for that matter.

“You going to piss on my pillows next? C’mon, finish marking your territory.” A lilt of amusement hidden behind the gruff smirk catches you off-guard.

“I already did last night.” You throw said pillows at Nathan, he sidessteps each one. “Where’d you put my phone?”

Nathan chuckles and leans against the door frame, a towel wrapped low on his waist – freshly bathed with water droplets clinging to his chest. 

You knew that you’d be caught staring anyway, so you didn’t bother being discreet about it.

“Are you gonna take pictures to use as references for solo sessions?” He pushes up his glasses, making a show of it with his fingers. 

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, ineffectively stopping last night’s memories from seeping in. Those deliciously thick digits that plugged his cum back into your cunt, threatening to spill out to his annoyance. 

“Just give it back, Bateman. You and I got shit to do.”

Nathan pouts.

He fucking pouts.

You almost feel bad for wanting to leave but reality gave you a cold-wash of “you just slept with your boss”. 

“Quit thinking so hard, you’re gonna fry your brain.” He fishes your phone from god knows where because he certainly didn’t have pockets sewn into the towel.

“Was that between your ass cheeks?”

He tosses your phone back. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

The view is “not safe for work” to say the least. 

Your bare back is pressed against the bed, your stiffening nipples exposed to the cool air. The only thing covering you up right now was the thin sheet splayed across your pussy. (Damn rich people and their attraction to minimalism). 

But there was no point of decency now. He’d seen you on your knees and against the wall. 

There were a few places he’s yet to take you like his annoyingly neat desk that you wanted to mess up just for the sake of musing his workspace.

He said it’d be like straight out of a badly written porno. “Hot, billionaire boss fucks ditzy, sexy assistant on his desk during work hours.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sure the title shouldn’t be ‘assistant finds out her boss is actually the owner of PornHub’? How the hell did you come up with it so fast?”

His sweatpants were past his knees but he was rudely interrupted by a call with the board before he could pull your panties off. 

“Alright, sir. You’ve got a long day today.” You open up the Teams app, listing off his daily meetings. 

He plucks your phone and settles your head into the crook of his neck. “I knew you’d do this, pretending like it didn’t happen.”

“I can’t believe I slept with you.”

“I know, I was there.” 

You can’t help it when the corners of your lips curl at his stupid remark.

Nathan beams at drawing out a reaction. “Oh? Is that a smile I see?”

“No, you idiot.” You’re full-on grinning now, cheesing and all.

“Quit worrying about your pretty head, babe. You’re already working full-time at the facility, no one’s gonna know what you’re doing here. Besides, my dick is just a bonus.”

“Is your dick equivalent to a bar of gold? Because I’m gonna need that extra money once I get fired.”

“Now you’re just giving me ideas. Imagine that! A golden dildo molded from my cock.” He strokes his beard. “A true Midas’ touch.” 

You crane over to him, nudging your nose against his. “I’d never survive a day in your mind.”

“Well, you made it through a night with me, so I think it’s fair game.”

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

[harmonictechnicality]

This has got to be a mistake. There is no way on this spherical floating rock of fucked-uppery that this is the right hotel room.

Rose petals. Champagne bottles in a glass bucket. A silver tray of chocolate covered strawberries. A goddamn hot tub in the center of the room??

Mistake. Total mistake. The highest of errors.

See, Eddie is just tagging along with Steve on his monthly trips to visit Henderson at his big-brained university. And since Eddie has earned himself an appalling (yet valid) reputation of being flaky as dandruff, Steve was in charge of all the travel arrangements. Gas, schedule, hotel room.

This isn’t a hotel room. This a fucking honeymoon suite.

“The concierge said this was the only room left.” Steve tells him, plopping his duffel bag onto the heart-shaped bed. Which… fuck, really? Those exist outside of soft-core pornos?

“Sure. Okay.” Eddie spots candles on the balcony. Their balcony. Holy… “But why is all of this romantic shit here? Cause I’m sure as hell not paying for any of it.”

Eddie is barely paying for anything to begin with. He bought the snacks at the first gas station stop and has conveniently forgotten to pitch in ever since.

Steve shrugs. “It just… comes with the room, apparently.”

Eddie really wishes Steve had not put emphasis on that specific word. Knowing his hyperactive imagination, he won’t be able to un-hear that phrase for the entire duration of their trip. Awesome.

See, none of this would’ve been a problem two months ago. Up until then, Eddie never thought about inflicting red-rope marks around Steve’s wrists or how salivating it must sound to have his own name leaving Steve’s mouth while it’s stuffed with silk. No. Before two months ago, Eddie had Very Normal thoughts about Steve Harrington.

But since that day - the day Steve insisted on helping Eddie reapply his new eyebrow piercing, Eddie’s normal thoughts have been fucking poisonedwith vulgarity. 

It was everything whipped into one moment. The close proximity, the chemical-high off the sanitation wipes, the wetness of Steve’s fingers on him, the slight pinch of the metal threading through Eddie’s skin. 

As soon as Steve inserted the thin barbell, Eddie audibly gasped, swore quietly, had to play it off like the insertion hurt or whatever - just so Steve wouldn’t freak the fuck out. It proved to be an ineffective attempt at coolness, obviously Steve knew what he was doing. Has been an absolute tease about it ever since too. Flirty comments with Eddie when no one is around or making subtle touches whenever Eddie is close enough to get away with that sort of thing.

And look, Eddie would happily encourage all of that. He’d get Steve out of that stupid little polo and kiss every muscle on his torso if he thought that’s what Steve really wanted. There’s just no damn way that they are into the same stuff, physically.

Steve is probably nuts about fluffy-pink sex. All wispy touches and muffled moans under the covers. And Eddie doesn’t do that shit. Eddie wants bruising kisses and sensual demands. He wants to dissect all the vanilla parts of Steve and replace them with black magic and velvet.

That. That is why this room, these things, that person, is making this all of this very dangerous for Eddie.

“You okay, man?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.” Liar.

“You’ve been staring at the desk lamp for like, five minutes.”

“Just speculating as to where the interior designer may have found a dark red lightbulb.” Which, yeah. Why is it red? Is red the horniest color? Eddie bets if Steve is lying beneath red lighting, it’ll look like his whole body is flushed, overheated from whatever Eddie is doing to him.

Fuck. This is bad. This is so very bad.

And yet, Steve is so unfazed. So casual. He’s eating the gummies off the snack bar like they’re not shaped like dicks. He’s turning on the stereo as if it’s not only looping through steamy saxophone solos. Why is none of this affecting him like it’s affecting Eddie? Is passion and desire so deeply woven into his Harrington DNA that this stuff is just a typical Tuesday for him? Ugh, Eddie is making his own head spin. 

“So…” Eddie sways side to side. “None of this is weird to you?”

“What do you mean?”

What does he mean? What fucking gives? “Uh - there’s a bowl of flavored rubbers sitting next to your hand, dude. How are you so chill about this?”

Steve clinks his nail over the condom bowl. “It’s just stuff. No biggie.”

“Just stuff? It’s like a romance novel threw up in this place.”

“Yeah, but..” Steve counters, sounds irritated. “It’s only romantic if you’re with someone and wanna… get it on.”

Eddie scoffs. “Get it on? What - suddenly, you can’t just say fuck?”

“You’re so annoying.” Steve rolls his eyes, tosses another dick gummy into his mouth. “These are all just things. It’s all about your mindset.”

“I disagree.” Eddie states. “I think anyone with an active libido would wanna fuck all over this sex-trap.”

“Booby-trap.”

“Nice one.” Eddie gives Steve a high-five. Unironically.

“Still…” Steve turns the volume dial down on the stereo. “I think you’re wrong.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve’s arms fold into his chest, taking a step towards Eddie. “Then prove your point. Convince me otherwise.”

Eddie should back down. He should wrap a leash around all of his sick thoughts and chain them up somewhere far away. He should not say what he’s about to say. He shouldn’t.

“How about we make a bet?” Big yikes. Wrong move.

“What kind of bet, Munson?”

“I bet you twenty bucks that I can change your mind. If we can use up all of these so-called ‘regular items,’ without you feeling a twinge of romance, then you win.”

Steve doesn’t respond, so Eddie keeps talking. Can’t shut up anymore.

“But if you so much as blush during any of it, then I win.”

Steve opens his mouth, shuts it. He raises an eyebrow and tries again. “When you say regular items, that excludes the condom bowl, right?” 

“What ever do you mean?” Eddie gives a sneaky grin, no restraining his dirty plan now. “You’re not interested in making balloon animals this evening?”

Steve huffs, plops down into a nearby chair. “So weird.”

“Do we have a deal or not, Harrington?” 

This is so dumb. Eddie can tell just how dumb it is by the puzzled expression on Steve’s face. But here he is, making bets like he’s still in fucking high school, trying to swindle beefy jocks out of their cushy-privileged allowance money.

However, it appears that Steve is just as dumb as Eddie is.

“Make it forty bucks.” Steve offers a hand out to him. 

Eddie accepts it, gives the firmest handshake. “You're on.”

So much for this being a normal evening.

*the rest is on ao3 :) here's the link*

[hareofhrair]

However important you think Biden winning the election is, you must surely realise that jerking off into a sock might just do more to make that happen than being annoying about it on tumblr.

Thanks for having the integrity to send this off anon, man. And I more or less agree frankly. My original post was primarily venting and mostly just intended for the people in my immediate circle as, at most, an explanation for why I was unfollowing them and breaking mutuals. I didn’t even tag it as anything but “us politics” for people who don’t want to see that shit. It wouldn’t have gone much further than that, but a sci fi author I follow and respect deeply reblogged it, and they’re pretty popular so here we are. The shit i have got in my inbox the last week you would not believe, dude.

The thing is being annoying about voting for Biden on tumblr is pretty damn ineffective for sure. Unfortunately, doomposting about how he’s no better than trump and it doesn’t make a difference who wins so we should all just give up- does work. Reblogging a million posts about how Biden is a genocidal monster and voting for him means you’re a murderous racist (and exactly zero posts about Trump’s political plans or anything hopeful or which recommends actual action beyond just *not voting*) is incredibly effective at suppressing votes here. The tumblr community is very susceptible to apathy, because we’re all depressed and broke and miserable.

Russia literally used that to their advantage in 2016- this is established, proven fact- in order to get Trump elected the first time by convincing leftist youth that the democratic candidates were just as bad so there was no point in voting (and in fact voting makes you a bad person because you’re endorsing those monsters!) So I’d prefer if people around me did not uncritically reblog that shit. It pisses me off to see it and it does no one any good.

Biden is dogshit man, I know. I’m not a democrat, I just vote that way because, generally speaking, they are the only available candidates who don’t want to make my life actively worse. That doesn’t mean I like it.

But as far as I can tell, the revolution isn’t happening any time soon. I’m doing as much as I can where I am, but generally speaking the American people are uniquely complacent and apathetic and systematically depowered. Most of us are fighting just to stay housed and fed and don’t have the energy to also throw ourselves on the gears of capitalism. Those of us that do have the capacity face the incredible impersonal violence of the police state and a justice system with both political and financial incentive to strip their personhood and sell them into forced labor. Either things have to get a *lot* worse to convince people they have nothing to lose (which as someone else pointed out is a risky gamble that doesn’t always work and results in a lot of suffering regardless) or things need to get *marginally* better, enough that the people who already want change have the stability and resources to fight for it. And when you want incredibly, frustratingly marginal improvements, look no further than the democratic party!

Look, when it comes down to it, you don’t need to agree with me. But at least admit that even if it makes no difference at all, voting doesn’t hurt anything. It’s free, it takes very little effort, and it maybe gives us a slightly better chance of avoiding our country becoming a christofacist dictatorship.

If voting, at worst, makes no difference why not do it?

If voting, at worst, does nothing- why are so many people so invested in convincing you that you shouldn’t do it?

[auphelia]

Restock day in Dottore's lab

A/N: Listen, I'm sorry but this idea has been rattling around in my mind for so long now and I'm afraid I will not know peace before it's been evicted in the form of writing. It was planned out as a chapter of the long fic I've started working on, but it'll be a long time before that catches up to where I want this. My english is bad and my writing skills are even worse so yeah, proceed at your own risk… Big mention to @/boundinparchment and @/surveyycorps whose amazing Dottore works have most certainly influenced my subconscious and this by extension. Warnings/tags: Alludes to mental breakdown, no comfort, very brief gore, fem!oc x dottore, reader x dottore but reader will get personality and backstory, isn't really an x anything since assistant oc doesn't show up until very last bit (and doesn't do much) but it's part of a long fic I've started writing which will be oc x dottore. Minors do not interact

It was by no means an imposing door. Made from worn fir planks it had an almost domestic feeling to it. The more he looked at it, the more out of place something felt. Although it was currently impossible to determine whether that 'something' was him or the door. It was ridiculous how much a simple piece of wood could annoy anyone, but compared to the otherwise sterile and metallic surroundings this stuck out like a sore thumb. His brow furrowed as he caught his mind slipping, it had been doing so more often as of late, and the mere thought of such ineffectiveness was enough to make his fingers twitch at his sides. This would be a quick in and out, simply grab what he needed urgently and get back to work.

He could still recall the conversations he'd had with Pantalone when the lower levels of the Palace had been refurbished to house his primary base of operations. The banker had been stingy, insisting that he would not pay a single mora for something so frivolous as the storage rooms being remodeled to fit the appearance of the laboratories. At the time, Dottore had written it off as some ridiculous principle and complied. After all, he'd been more than content to forego aesthetics and instead funnel his attention into making his workspace functionally perfect. But right now, accompanied by already frayed nerves and the dull thudding in his head, it felt like a blatant attempt at establishing control.

So that's what Pantalone had been trying to do all along, limit and influence him? Just as narrow-minded and afraid of change as the rest of those miserable fools Dottore had dealt with during his long life. Years of bitter resentment flared to life, cradling his body in it's warm embrace as bile rose in his throat. No doubt a scheming leech like the damned banker wouldn't be above weaponizing something as trivial as interior design to subtly nudge him. A willingness to make small sacrifices was the first step towards being manipulated. What else had he agreed to over the years? His thoughts were jumbled and disorganized, a consequence of Omega's little stunt no doubt, and just sorting through all the memories made him queasy. He felt his pulse pounding behind his eyes, the capillaries no doubt on the verge of bursting. His mind barely registered it as his body took two unsteady steps forward, a calloused hand instinctively reaching for the wall to steady his weight. The cool stone against his skin didn't serve to quell the embers of his anger even half as much as he'd hoped.

There were the constant squabbles for funding. Was he being spied on? The compromises on subject sourcing. One of his notebooks were missing. It had been too long since he'd had something sweet. He needed to get rid of the contamination in lab four. When had he last checked on Haeresys? Having to settle for parts and-

A faint laugh escaped his lips, the sound lost between the cracks in the walls. He'd done it again, forgotten his intentions and drifted into a string of preposterous thoughts. Being away from his work wasn't doing his mind any favors. A hand made its way towards the gleaming earring, the movement subconscious as he sought to disconnect from the network. For a moment placebo kicked in as he deposited the jewelry into his back pocket and all fell quiet around him. But ever the fast mind, it soon occurred that the voices, his voices dammit, weren't something that could simply be turned off anymore. They all- No, he just needed some time to assimilate and he would endure as he always had. With a renewed sense of determination, and a small shake of his head to clear his mind, he pushed open the door. Forcing himself not to wince as it creaked on its hinges, his jaw tensed. Another thing he'd need to get fixed. Not bothering to close the door behind him he stepped inside, hands clasped behind his back as he let his gaze scan across the shelves and stacks of equipment. Dust lingered atop the surfaces, a testament to how long it had been since he'd last had to restock he mused. The younger segments, not quite mature enough where he'd trust them, trust himself, to be in charge of any real research took care of such menial work as restocking the labs. Following the incident the laboratory had been stocked for a while, with material turnover naturally slowing down to match the available workforce.

He pushed down the intrusive thoughts reminding him that he'd been cutting corners and compromising on various things the past couple of days, actively avoiding having to leave his experiments to pick up new pipettes, tubes, plates, glassware, spare mechanic parts… He'd need some of the chemicals as well, unwieldy containers that took more time moving than what it was worth. He wanted to curse at himself, he should've written a note of what he needed. A glance over his shoulder and across the corridor was all it took to remind him how close his laboratory was, it would be easy to do a quick check. The thought had barely formed before a scowl settled on his face, going back and forth was hardly a necessity, he should know what he needed to bring over.

As his focus returned to the dimly lit room, a feeling of unease seeped into his bones. Nothing was placed as he remembered it. Granted, it had most likely been more than a century since this body had last been in here. The shelves were lined from floor to ceiling with various necessities, and he had to stop himself from swearing as he realized none of the boxes were labelled with anything save for some seemingly random assortment of letters and numbers. No doubt they had meaning, but the symbols refused to part with their secrets as his eyes roamed over them. He'd recognize his own handwriting anywhere, this version a little more legible than average. One of the youngsters had made the system then, that would only make figuring it harder. His hand ran through his hair, a small voice briefly reminding him how long it had been since he'd last washed it properly. Every box had a letter and between one to three numbers, the digits appearing random in their placement along the shelves. So they didn't indicate position in the room, meaning it must pertain to the content of the box. In that case, they were likely numbered so the things most often used had the lowest numbers, a simple yet relatively clever system. Perhaps the letters were some sort of category indicator, it could be based on the type of work it was required for? It wasn't a system without fault of course, the value having needed to be assigned based on subjective opinion. The youngest segments had likely never looked through any documents that could indicate how much or how often everything was ordered.

His headache was pushed back at the satisfaction of having cracked the code, now he'd just find the box with the lowest value and use that as a reference to grasp what things had been ranked as 'important'. A small smile tugged at the corner of his chapped lips as he perused the shelves, crimson eyes systematically skimming across the stocks. The heels of his boots clicked against the flooring with every step he took into the maze of shelves and loose containers lining the floor. Incredible how much had been shoved into the modest room. An accident in here could set his research months back, the thought in and of himself bringing some odd semblance of comfort which should by no means be there. A small hum of approval left him as his eyes found what they'd been looking for, bringing his scattered thoughts back to the present. Reaching out with gloved hands he grabbed a box, the container surprisingly light in his hold. Labelled as 'G-3' he'd expected it to contain something like glassware, but the feeling of it in his hands suggested it must then be largely empty. He set it down on the ground, kneeling to get a better look as he impatiently pried it open.

"Cotton?" The word had left his lips before he could stop it, the sound grating his ears. He could already hear the mocking laughter in his head, wanting nothing more than to rip whatever nerve cells were responsible for it out. Too distracted to put the crate back, he simply stood up and gave it a small push with the tip of his shoe, having already forgotten it as his mind ran rampant. If cotton was labeled so high, surely it couldn't be based on importance. What did he even use cotton for? Could it have been of use to one of the others in case a subject was bleeding? His stomach churned involuntarily, shoving aside memories of mangled bodies, picked apart for nothing in particular. It had been a disgusting endeavor, spearheaded by his worst perspective. But why should they have bothered with first aid when most of those subjects weren't even reused? An utter waste of materials.

He grasped another box, desperate to find what he needed and get out. The air weighed heavily on him as he kept pulling out crates and containers, all of them landing unceremoniously on the floor. Within just five minutes his movements had become erratic, almost desperate in the need to find something, anything he could use right now. This was his creation, fostered by his mind and realized by his hands. Another perspective, but ultimately him. The Doctor. A Fatui Harbinger. There was nothing he couldn't solve if given the tools and time, and he most certainly would not let something as inconsequential as… Glass crashed to the ground, the sound rattling his bones and pulling him back to the present as hundreds of delicate glass pipettes shattered. The fragments spilling from the crate he'd so carelessly tossed on the ground. He'd needed those. The realization made his movements falter, the jumbled voices in his head screaming for him to continue, stop, cry, anything and everything really. His finger tapped against his thigh in a quick rhythm, counting the taps in the back of his mind. A shaky hand reached up to unclasp the mask as he found himself desperate for anything to cool his burning skin. This was too much.

At least he didn't see any shattered or broken chemical containers meaning this was still only a disgraceful inconvenience, not a health hazard. Laughter erupted from his throat, the sound foreign and intrusive as he felt it worm its way inside his skull. His knees hit the hard stone before his mind could catch up. His head lowered, eyes widening as he saw a few unfamiliar droplets wetting the ground in front of him. The laughter died down to a faint chuckle as his throat constricted, only serving to make the sound of his gloved finger tapping more prominent in the ravaged room. His entire body stiffened as something not of his making reached his ears, the breathing pattern recognizable enough by now that it made him want to sink into the cracks beneath him. Instead, scarred hands moved by themselves to clip the mask back on before he straightened his back. "How. Long?" the words were by no means rude, a faint voice in the back of his mind praising him for not lashing out. If nothing else, he could cling to that small display of control to remind himself that all was well. "Long enough," she sounded like she'd wanted to say more but refrained, at least it seemed his technician was learning to control that damnable tongue of hers. The relief at her lack of further questioning had barely manifested when her next words washed over him like a bucket of cold water. "But pray tell, Doctor, how am I supposed to prepare the new solutes and buffers when you've seemingly decided to break all the clean glassware?" His fists tightened at the accusatory tone in her voice, making him feel like a scolded child. Making no effort to tread lightly, he got to his feet, hard heels slamming into the ground hard enough that the thought of looking for additional cracks in the ground briefly flashed through his mind. Within seconds he'd crossed the distance, no thoughts spared for the mess of items that cracked and broke beneath his feet. Towering over the young woman, he bit into the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing anything rash. She had proven too useful for his research, especially with the segments gone. He only had to endure until they were rebuilt. He leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back as he brought the beak of his mask uncomfortably close. A thin smile stretched across his lips as he saw her resolve crumble just enough for her to take half a step back. "As resourceful as you are, surely you can think something up, hm?" His voice was laden with derision as he straightened back up, fingers itching to dig into her skin hard enough to draw blood. Once more he found himself grateful for the mask that covered half his face, letting him close his eyes unnoticed for a brief moment of respite before striding past her. He had half a mind to grasp the door handle and slam the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. "Ah, one moment Doctor. There's no system to it really, Xi simply had it memorized. I made an overview of sorts for my own convenience, it's on the back of the door," he swore there was a smug sort of satisfaction to her words as she continued, "in case you need it in the future." His hands had tightened into fists while she spoke. Of course it had been nothing but wishful thinking that such a foolish child would've created anything as worthwhile as a storage system. Despite his wounded pride, curiosity plucked at the edges of his thoughts and spurred him on. He'd already sunk low enough for a subordinate to see him in such a disgraceful state, satisfying the question on his mind would hardly make matters worse. "The codes. What is their purpose?" The words came out more clipped than he'd have liked, but just the act of forming a coherent sentence proved troublesome. He wanted to roll his eyes as he heard her sigh softly, it was a bad habit on her part, six even breaths followed by a sigh. Another miserable tool to fix.

Her words were drowned out by the ringing in his ears, vision blurred at the edges as he marched across the hallway and into his laboratory. The lock clicked into place as he shut the door behind him before ripping the mask off and tossing it aside, gloves following soon after. Fingers swiftly tangled in his locks, massaging at his scalp in an attempt to ease the tension. If he was lucky, his technician would get the message. Even if she had a key this was no time to intrude. His body slumped onto the nearest chair, his forehead almost immediately making contact with the table. Raspy chuckles mixed with quiet sobs as his nails scraped off the bloody scabs that had recently made themselves at home on his skin. His thoughts raged, mute voices mocking him for not having predicted this outcome. 'The codes? Oh, they're for Pantalone's convenience. It's how he prefers the materials we order to appear in the expense reports. Something about product codes.'

[namwool]

Imma rant~ Apologies ignore and delete this if you want. I just want to get this off my chest.

I'm actually relieved you're not a fan of Yue Qingyuan either! It's quite rare to find someone who shares that sentiment. Shen Jiu is the only character I'd go to bat for as well, despite his limited presence in the story. I'm not particularly fond of Liu Qingge either, especially since many fanfics paint him as this overly righteous figure, which doesn't seem to align with his character's complexity. He's a PIDIW character of course he's head has a screw loose up in there.

If imma be honest Bingge was gonna be hated if he was in any man's peak including YQ and be loved in close proximity to females because of his system halo. The OG Luo Binghe greek tragedy truly wasn't the abuse that set him off it was his greediness he really wants to covet his cruel Shizun so bad he'd go to the Walmart version to pick it up. His longing for his cruel Shizun is so intense that he'd settle for a lesser version of him, which is quite telling. If his feelings toward Shen Jiu were purely hatred, he wouldn't have subjected him to such prolonged torture unlike palace master. It's evident that his emotions toward his Shizun are more complicated than simple animosity; there's something deeper there that he craves. It's almost a relief that the story didn't take a turn toward a "2HA" scenario, if OG Binghe decided a different kind of torture .

The number of fanfics that portray Shen Yuan as the sole reason for Luo Binghe's victory and love triumph over the protagonist is astounding. They often depict Shen Yuan's kindness as the catalyst for winning over Little Binghe's heart, when in reality, he wears a mask of a precious teacher. Thats it! He has his face. That what makes him special. If true kindess and loves from his wives didn't get him going what makes Shen Yuan different? I know most are MC bias but like... knowing MXTX works and identites and the fact this wasn't revealed made me go whaat ?

If that were true, the reveal would have happened already. Bingmei and Bingge are both undeniably deranged in both worlds, and he was a white lotus; I can't comprehend why so many reveal fics portray him as calm. He would have gone crazy and lose his shit, not calm, in all these circumstances, as depicted in these fics.

I dislike the other Peak Lords, but Yue Qingyuan frustrates me the most because of his ineffectiveness as a leader. His relationship is one I feel would have been better left unresolved with loose ends, much like with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng because some relationships are better left to be departed and let go . As a reader, I wonder how many times he can just fail before giving up and throwing in the towel. What angered me the most was Shen Jiu being tortured inhumanely for who knows how long, until his severed legs were sent to him, which finally spurred Yue Qingyuan into action. That is truly sickening! I can't help but imagine himself in that situation needing help and, and as a reader would resent YQ for it. Does his tragic death make up for it when his childhood friend was suffering? As a reader, I care less about Yue Qingyuan's personal struggles. I know he has trauma, but in such dire circumstances, how can he not push himself for Shen Jiu? He has all the power but limits himself, unable to move forward and often fumbling.

If SJ can drop and go 100% and he can't then it's relationship is unequal. I once came across a damn Tiktok talking about shit like if " YQ was a different person one day or acted strange Shen jiu would do his damnest to find out who it is he wouldn't just stop he'd keep going because of his heart and would be the same for the rest of the Peak Lords".

What infuriates me the most is that he owes him a life debt—one that he was deeply involved in, and yet Shen Jiu saved him. Despite everything, all Shen Jiu needed was for someone to believe in his good heart and see him as a good person, even if it was just one person. It would have meant the world to know that his big brother truly understood his nature, especially considering his deep self-loathing. If just one person believed in him, it could have greatly improved his mental health. Yue Qingyuan was saved by Shen Jiu and could have taken significant actions, such as clarifying the rumors and not appearing so guilt-ridden, which led others to misinterpret his relationship with his shidi. At the very least, even if he couldn't explain "why," he could have shown through his actions how much Shen Jiu meant to him. Shen Jiu saved him twice—how could he not find it in his heart to believe in him?

That was makes me so pissed off. YQ didn't so I see him as a disgrace. Like YQ passiveness is like seeing the stupid trainwreck of Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu.

LQG for all his bullshit is weirdly the one I felt would work simply because of his personality and character dynamic with Shen jiu lol.

I have no idea how long this ask has been in my inbox. Sorry for the late answer!

Anyways, I agree with almost everything you said, except the torture part.

While I do agree that ripping apart someone's body is inhuman, it does align with the "historical" context of the novel. I did prepare a post some time ago about historical abuse in Svsss, but I didn't post it because I didn't want to fuel the fandom or create anymore beef.

I too don't think LBG loves SY. Or anyone really except maybe Zhuzhi-Lang? But as far as I personally saw in the book, everyone who took an interest in him was because he was in SQQ's body. That's my personal interpretation, I might be wrong, I might be right. Even LQG's interest, to me at least, seems to mostly be because he believed SY!SQQ to be SJ!SQQ. (I love Liujiu, I might be extra biased here. Not sorry.)

YQY had plenty of chances to come clean, like... you can't tell me he didn't know how possessive SJ was over him. Sj literally killed his demonic shizun to save him, and chose to follow him to Cang Qiong. I don't believe anyone who says "YQY didn't know". Let's not forget SJ almost fought a bunch of other kids for calling him their Qi-ge.

There's also this other thing that bothered me: YQY assuming the same thing as everyone else.

Like, he had the power, the position, the respect of everyone. If he went to the RWP to investigate the truth, with how highly respected he is, no one would say a thing.

Their relationship is so one-sided it hurts. I physically can't stomach canon YQY. I'm sorry. I prefer the fanon one.

The thing that bothers me, is that I can't even fully blame him. It's Airplane the problem. He wrote the characters that way. Had SY never transmigrated, disrupting the novel, YQY would have never revealed why he failed to save SJ.

I hate Airplane more than I dislike YQY 😤

Also, 2ha kina creeps me out. I wish someone told me what the books were about before I bought the first three volumes together. I regret investing my money in those books 🥲

[tarisilmarwen]

Please, if you want, DUNK on the blue bastard.

Oh? I am being given permission to shittalk Thrawn? *rubs hands* Listen, I love the guy as the Affably Evil villain he is. He's imminently polite and respectful towards his adversaries, sharp as a tack brilliant which makes him a formidable foe, he appreciates good work from his underlings, he's hilarious bouncing off other characters. He's a fully three-dimensional, rounded, likable character.

Who also happens to be an authoritarian nightmare bastard.

He is at best apathetic to the Empire's atrocities, at worst, willingly complicit. He genuinely believes in the fascist tyrannical system as the best status for the galaxy, because they put up a "stronger", "ordered" front. He might bemoan some aspects of the Empire but only because he sees them as wasteful, ineffective, inefficient, and he absolutely thinks he could run things better if given the chance. He is the epitome of Machiavelli's Prince, deluded into believing himself some kind of benevolent tyrant, or willing to serve at the behest of one. He is Might Makes Right and The Ends Justify The Means and fits right in with the modus operandi of the Sith Code and the Empire's whole overarching philosophy.

The man is part of Palpatine's personal Triumvirate with Vader and Tarkin. You do not get that high up into the upper echelons unless you are a true believer.

Which is why fandom's constant excusing him because of his supposedly sympathetic and noble motivations is so damn irritating.

Oh Thrawn is doing everything For The Greater Good? He just wants to protect the interests of the Chiss? His first priority is to his own people?

None of that shit matters.

He still willingly inserted himself into the infrastructure of a fascist regime that was installed by genocide and regularly murders its own people and tried to help said regime run better and oppress the galaxy more effectively. He depersons and dehumanizes beings he doesn't consider useful, and sees the useful ones as "assests" ("allies" at best). He is perfectly willing to do horrible things if it suits him or gets him the results he needs. And he sees nothing wrong with his own actions. He is self-serving and self-righteous.

He. Is. A. Villain.

Doesn't matter how cute you think he is with Eli or Ar'alani or whoever or how sad you imagine him or how sympathetic and likable you find him, he is not a good person. He is a Bad Guy, and it's laughable that y'all wring hands over that fact. You're allowed to like the bad guy. You're allowed to find the bad guy hot and sympathetic and likeable and funny. But it annoying as hell when you insist he can't be a Bad Guy because "Oh he did it for a good reason!" which is, again, irrelevant.

And no, Zahn writing him with more sympathetic backstory and likable moments in New Canon doesn't mean he's no longer a villain. It does not mean his alignment has changed. It just means his time with the Empire becomes a corruption arc, as we see how a supposedly good person can become more and more fanatical in the pursuit of their goals.

And Zahn is on thin freaking ice anyway, if the hearsay about his asinine empty buildings headcanon is true.

I hope when August comes and the Ahsoka show has Thrawn being the magnificent bastard fascist asshole he is, fandom comes around to appreciate him properly, as the awesome villain he is.

[dragon-cookies]

Fuck it okay I’m gonna watch the 2nd ep of Hazbin, I’m gonna be brave

This ep isn’t as grating as the first for me, but good LORD does this show have no idea who to focus on. The title suggests it’s going to be about Alastor and Vox’s rivalry, but it switches like halfway through to focus on Pentious coming to the hotel?? While also throwing the side plot with Angel Dust and Valentino at us too??? Please for the love of god pick a focus for each episode

The song still comes out of basically nowhere but is overall pretty fun and catchy

Vox is literally just Alastor’s body with a square head I’m sorry I had to say it

I fucking hate Valentino, like viscerally hate him. I feel gross every time he speaks. Someone needs to rip his throat out with their teeth by the end of this season or sooner

Pentious being the villain who consistently fails at being a villain is admittedly pretty amusing. I’m a bit of a sucker for men who are absolutely pathetic

Now that I’m thinking about it, how does Charlie actually plan on redeeming sinners?? It feels like the hotel’s supposed to be like a rehab center, with group therapy sessions and the like, but her methods are clearly pretty childish and ineffective. I’m assuming she’s maybe going to have an arc where she realizes it’s going to take more work to rehabilitate sinners, but given that she’s literally grown up in Hell you’d think she’d already know that

Wait a fucking second actually, what if instead of being Lucifer and Lilith’s daughter, Charlie was an angel who came to Hell to try and help redeem sinners? Her naivety and positive outlook would make way more sense if she hadn’t actually grown up amongst the carnage in Hell. I came up with that in like, 30 seconds and I already think that’s a way more interesting premise

I also know the whole “they seem like good friends” is a common meme used when describing f/f couples but god Charlie and Vaggie are not written like a couple at all. They barely interact, and nothing they say or do explicitly communicates they’re a couple and not just friends. Just a kiss or some kind of show of affection or just one of them calling the other “babe” would be enough and yet there’s just, nothing

Any m/m couples are portrayed as either horrifically abusive or aggressively one-sided too. Damn this show is just doing an equal disservice to both the girls and the gays

How do Overlords work?? Does a sinner have a random chance to become an extra powerful demon when they enter Hell? Or is it tied to how much sin they commit when they’re alive? What do Overlords even do? What’s their end goal?

Okay Charlie's fluffy bed head is actually pretty cute

Oh okay we're gonna have a happy apology song seconds after Pentious literally set up cameras in the hotel?? Kinda feels like we didn't put in the leg work for an entire song once again but here we are

Why does Charlie have more chemistry with Pentious than literally anyone else so far

Overall, not as painful as the first ep, still horrendously bad pacing and overall just feels extremely rushed.

[minijenn]

Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: Spirit Untamed

Why the fuck does this movie exist? No really, why does it exist? Who asked for a Spirit reboot (not a sequel, because it isnt a sequel, its a reboot for some reason) in the year of our lord 2021? Who asked for this to be released in theaters? And why is it honest to god one of the worst movies I've had the displeasure of watching as part of this marathon???

Ugh, ok so we follow a girl named Lucky, who's visiting her estranged father for the summer alongside her uptight aunt Cora. While there, she meets a captured wild horse, which she quickly bonds with and names Spirit, while also befriending two other local Horse Girls (get ready to hear me say Horse GIrls a lot bc this is literally Horse Girls The Movie). When Spirit's herd is captured by bandits, its up to these Horse GIrls to go on a grand adventure and rescue them.

Yeah, basic plot with insanely basic characters because this movie is for Babies and Horse GIrls. I don't know what else to fucking say. Everything about this movie screams childish and pandering, from the way these characters are written (its set in the early 1900s, but these kids use words like "totally" and make friendship bracelets omg besties, jfc shoot me) from the shitty pop songs to even how it looks (more on that in a bit). There's like... basically nothing appealing about this film if you aren't a very small child or obsessed with horses and even then, the horses element of it is just oh, look at horse make big jump! oh look at horse bond with horse girl! And it gets so damn old so damn fast.

The characters here are all as basic as they can be. Lucky is your typical headstrong preteen, who is way too overconfident in her own abilities, to the point that she's kind of moronic imo? Her friends aren't much better and barely have personalities outside of being there to support Lucky and be her omg besties! Spirit is just... fuckin there, he has no real personality, unlike the original movie where he had a bunch, without even saying a word. Lucky's dad is the most Generic Dreamworks Dad with hangups I've ever seen, I guess Aunt Cora is probably the only semi fun character in the cast, and the bad guy, fuck he was so ineffective and boring I don't even remember his name. The only thing I do remember is his face is weirdly smooshed and he got defeated by a goddam Horse Girl, of all things, jesus christ man, that's taking a major L.

The animation here is just plain pathetic. I understand that this was basically made to launch a Netflix spinoff series, but fuck man, this released in theaters. Does Dreamworks have no fucking shame? Even some of their earliest CGI movies looked better than this bland, uninteresting looking style they have going on here. The music is every bit as boring and forgettable, with again, shitty pop songs. Yay. Just what we need more of.

So yeah, this one fucking sucked. The only good thing I can say about it is it was mercifully short. But like... it was so goddamn boring, man. Even Boss Baby, for as bad as it was, was at least interesting to watch bc you wanted to see how batshit bad it would get. This was just... hard to even focus on with how dull and predictable it was. So thanks, Dreamworks, for releasing this second rate trash heap in theaters, because otherwise I would have never ruined an evening of my life watching it. Seriously, thanks for that. T-T

Overall Rating: 2/10

Verdict: Banished to Horse GIrl Country

Previous Review (The Croods: A New Age)

Next Review (The Boss Baby: Family Business)

[familyagrestefanblog]

I have.. such mixed feelings about the implications of this shot in the new trailer

I wanna be hopeful that this means the protection charms dilemma is finally getting brought up and this is the result of Marinette having sat down with either Chat Noir or Alya and the show finally has her talk about how not ideally at all this was handled up til now from her/the hero's side because after the protection charms lost 90% of their initial crucial purpose the hero's just kinda act like the emotional value was the main purpose all along and no conversation or a second try from Ladybug, Chat Noir/Mister Bug or Scarabella needs to be concidered.

I wished the show would just name the reason for nothing having happened after "Dearest Family" to be that Marinette was/is too afraid of trying something different again at all after ShadowMoth overpowered her charms because she didn't wanted to give him another opportunity to grow in power yet again, to outsmart her powers and make her look bad in the public eyes.

Those are perfectly understandable reasons I could work with just fine and with those I would not take much issue with nothing being done again, if only the show actually would properly voice that and say that something Ladybug did simply wasn't well-handled with no "buts" and excuses about it from whatever angle or that her first attempt at something she just learned simply ended up not being good enough and that's it. Off to the second try then. It is baffling to me how much the show refuses to actually have that be the case and make it stick once in a while and not always sweep everything under the rug since Marinette really would need this experience with something just semi-important like Protection charms.

No I dont want to drink Marinette's tears for breakfast, I'm honestly just asking for an acknowledgement from the heros' side that the charms situation isn't ideal at all for quite a long time now and that they were suddenly asking alot of the civilian with this plan change of only focusing on the charms' emotional value, since the resistance through the charms can only be tested when the person is already Monarque's prey. And who of them is supposed to know what the hell HE is doing with his Transmission powers?

I don't even need a damn result, I just wanna see them talk about these things and do as much as brainstorming, which for all I care they can do while eating damn cake at one of their sleep overs or on a rooftop in fluffy blankets (btw this goes for Adrien and Alya too, I have very little respect for how the show had ALL the hero's handle this after "Dearest Family".)

I really don't like how almost.. entitled and without much hero's accountability at all this was handled by the narrative. We simply got NOTHING after 4x21 and in the big picture that resulted in the hero's basically saying "Hey this protection charm that had the power to protect you from the akuma when Shadowmoth/Monarque preys on you and emotionally manipulates you when you are in an emotional low-point and therefore extra vulnerable to him doesn't work like that anymore. So it's your job and your job alone to just not be vulnerable prey anymore, since we are not going to make a second attempt or take a different approach in anything no matter how ineffective our default ways have proven themselves to be by now."

What is currently happening has a bitter aftertaste of victim-blaming for me because there is 0 acknowledgement or communication from the heros' side and therefore I'm unwilling to give it a free pass through the understandable reasons I listed earlier and will elaborate further on later on. The charms were presented to the people as a way to fully protect them and the moment that stopped being true the heros seemingly just changed their minds, continued giving out the almost useless charms while making it now seem like it was the people's job all along to make Ladybug's overpowered charms work without guidance or any knowledge of Monarque's powers or anything magical in general.

This is so frustrating because I'm barely asking for anything here. If the show had handled this with proper accountability a hero needs to take when a whole city relies on them through them simply talking about it and their reasons to each other (and somewhat the people) then I would have been fine with it. I'm not asking for groundbreaking results, I'm asking for the narrative to do its JOB by giving me the needed insight to these flawed characters mindsets through explicit dialogue and establishing scenes to enforce it. That's it. That's barely anything. Stop putting the understandable reasons into the subtext at most so fans can cherry-pick if they want the characters to be flawed or flawless, especially when it regards your main character.

How the hell are the the citizens supposed to know what Monarque is doing with those akumas and if he isn't powering them up depending on resistance level if already no-one knows how he is giving his victims their Miraculous powers? How are the people supposed to know that they even have a CHANCE of making this work when the heros' communicate nothing, change their mind on a whim and passively act like they did nothing wrong whatsoever and it's the civilians fault that the overpowered protection charms aren't keeping them save?

If it were that easy to just not be vulnerable prey anymore no protection charms would have ever been needed in the first place. Saying that it's ONLY the civilians' job to make the overpowered protection charms work now when the magical terrorist with emotion based powers intentionally preys on them while they are at their lowest is not something I have respect for AT ALL the way the show is pulling it til now.

The fact that up til now apparently NOTHING was allowed to be asked of the HEROS' again in such horrible circumstances when merely their FIRST attempt didn't turn out to be successful is audacious in my opinion. There is a fundamental difference between the civilians being ungrateful and needing to step up too & the magical, larger than life terror Monarque inflicts on the world and the civilians for a year now while using their mind and emotions against them simply REQUIRING magical protection and guidance that is actually reliable since non of this is anything close to normal.

I'm honestly not very willing to turn all of this onto the vulnerable civilian victims and demand that they alone pick up all the slack when they are at their lowest, alone with Monarque in their heads and on full blast of his manipulation and powers' influence, just because the heros want to entirely avoid acknowledging this and bringing up their shortcomings of bad times. I'm not watching a documentary, just do it please.

I want to believe that the upcoming episode will actually solve my grievances here or at least part of it. Because there is so much potential here. That Ladybug, Chat Noir, Alya and maybe even the other members of the Resistance actually do basic hero work, have a conversation and BRAINSTORM on how to improve the charms situation that isn't working as it should. Maybe the shield thingy is a completely new thing and the result of the entire miraculous team. Dude, I will do cartwheels if that's gonna happen!

Or maybe it's an Evolution of Ladybug's protection charms that either gets manually added to it in the episode or - what I personally think is the case cause it would make the most sense for Marinette’s character - that the team works together to unlock a hidden stronger protection mode in the charms.

Maybe Marinette/Ladybug can continue her development of voicing her insecurities and we find out that the shield thingy here was her actual intention back in "Mr pigeon 72" when she created these charms straight out of her mind, and she admits that when she later saw that the protection charms do not protect the people the way she planned she got insecure out of fear that she hasn't mastered her creation powers the way she thought she had and then left it at that all together because she feared making things worse or disappointing everyone. Do you have any idea how okay I would be with that, nod my head and move on?

Maybe we can have Adrien/Chat Noir voice that he thought about bringing it up but he didn't know how to without possibly making Ladybug feel worse about herself. Or that he feared that if he brought it up she would ask him for help and he neither feels fit or suited to create such important things yet in Ladybug's stead nor does he dare yet to think about what the power of destruction could do to the civilians if they added his powers to the charms (to maybe undo the evilizing of the butterfly all together once the akuma touches the charm force field? Just an idea :I) cause he fears he can't control it 100%

Or this regards both Adrien and Alya. They both are depicted having the same insecurities as Marinette of fearing to not live up to what a Ladybug miraculous holder should be able to do "flawlessly". Have them VOICE that this is the reason for why both of them didn't try to create something themselves. This would literally VALIDATE Marinette/Ladybug not doing anything since 4x21!

Come on, give me something! PLEASE!

--

Oh and...

*SIGH*

I'm begging this show to not have M. Damocles be the only/ first one to develop the protection shield as civilian.

Miraculous, don't.

Don't do it.

DON'T.

Don't turn this into a situation of Ladybug's protection charms having been overpowered by ShadowMoth, who is an adult in a leadership position, and have it be solved by M. Damocles as key-character who is an adult in a freaking leadership position! Don't make me be petty again about Su-Han's insulting treatment in Marinette's girlboss guardian narrative. Don't prove him right after the shit you pulled in season 4 and "Multiplication".

[phobiaoftickles]

THIS IS SO SHAMELESS 😍😭 HIIII

ok so you PWOBABLY know who it is (starts with an L.... ends with an iya) but I spy a certain something on your fandoms list 😀😀 this is just a prompt (general, not rlly any specifics 😭) BUTT 🍑 if it is possible could you write some original series lee!Ben with ler!Gwen I'm like I FEEL LIKE A HOBO BEGGAR FOR ASKING BUT TYSM FOR PUTTING UP W ME (I'm @trrickytickle )

Gwen the tickler

Second day having this acc and there’s alr a request? You best beilieve I’m going to do this.

Summary: Ben is being a nuisance scaring his cousin using multiple other morphs, little did he know Gwen will get her revenge!!

“Ben!! Get over here right NOW!!!!” Gwen ran after Ben after the last 5 morphs he did, popping out of no where infront of his cousin, acting like a villain, scaring the shit out of her, then morphing back to his regular self, laughing about it. And Gwen had enough.

“Uh, kids? Don’t be too reckless, don’t want you loosing an eye, and explain to your parents on how you managed to lose said eye.” Max just finished baking a batch of cookies, in which Gwen and Ben looked at the burnt cookies in disgust and continued their horse play.

Gwen went another way, in which her cousin didn’t know exsisted, and cut him off, tackling him and taking his braclet off so he won’t try to morph and get out of this very tickly situation.

“D’aw! Damn it, Gwen, can you please let your lil cousin up? For the sake of our friendship??” Ben mustered up the biggest puppy dog eyes, but it turned out to be ineffective, as Gwen didn’t give two shits.

“You’re gonna learn not to mess with me, Benjamin~” Gwen pinned his arms above his head. For someone to beable to morph into these strong monsters, he’s pretty weak. “I know something you’re terrified of the most…”

“And that is?”

“Gwen’s tickle attacks!” Gwen put Ben’s arms in one hand and teased him with the other, wriggling above his armpits.

“No!! GWEN PLEASE DON’T!! I promise I won’t scare you again, you have my woRD!! AHHAHHHHH STOP!! Don’t you dare Gwe-AHAHAHAHAH!! GWEN!!!” Ben screeched as the red head finally descended on his ticklish under arms.

“Sorry, friend, but you need to be taught a lesson on MANNERS!!” She scratched and scritched all on his armpits, going down to his sides, and wrecking them.

“Ahahahahah!! Please, stahahhap! Gwen! Please!” The transformer writhered from side to side, unable to get out of the red head’s grasp, so he decided to panick even more.

“Nope, don’t think I will.” She pushed his shirt up to his ribs, exposing his bare tummy. “Ooo~ this looks really ticklish, Benny, is it ticklish?” She tried it, tracing his stomach with her index finger, swriling around the navel, but not quite dipping in.

“*Snrk* no-NO!! It-It’s not… Gw-Gwen, st-stop, please!” Ben, out of his control, arched his back up towards Gwen’s finger.

“Wow~ look at this cute belly button, just iching for me to swirl my nail in the tiny hole, scratching the walls, and pinching the oustides of it.”

At this point, Ben was already red faced, crying, and panting. He was morbidly ticklish, and he hated it because of how vulnerable he is. Him and Gwen would always get into tickle fights, and he would always end up losing, so this? Not surprised Gwen could pin him down with a flick of her wrist.

“MAX!! UHUHUHUNCLE MAX!!! HEHEHEHELP ME OUT!!! PLEASE!!” To his horror, his uncle was passed out, watching tv, with milk in hand and cookie halfway in his mouth. He was not waking up to anything!

“Too bad Benny, he’s already passed out, good luck next time… or not~” She swriled her finger in, but instead of light tickles, they were rough ones.

“OHOHOW!! GWHEHEHEHN THOSE HUHUHUHUHRT!!!” Ben screeched out.

“Oops, sorry, got a lil carried away, now… where else should I target?” She examined his torso, looking for the next spot and poising her hands on his hips, tapping her fingers.

“No where!! Gwen, quit. It! Please!! Just stop.” The morpher tried to reason with her, doing puppy dog eyes, pleading, but once Gwen gets in a bad mood, there’s no getting out of it, unless SHE’S satisfied.

“Nope, this’ll teach you a lesson.” She scratched his hip indents with her thumbs, and scratched the sides of his hips with the rest of her fingers.

“DAHAHHAHAHAMN!! GWEN PLEASE, I HATE BEING TICKLED!! STOHOHOHOJOP!!!” He writhered side to side, but with his arms bound, and his cousin on his waist, he can’t really do much.

“Duh, that’s why I’m tickling you. This will teach you a lesson, there’s no point in liking being tickled, if you’re not gonna learn anything. Now suffer.” She moved down to his upper knees, squeezing her life out. Boy was she mad.

“GAH!! STOP GWEN!! AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! I’VE LEHEHEHEHARNED MY LEHEHEHESSON THE MOMENT YOU PIHIHIHINNED ME DOWN!” Ben was kicking his legs, so Gwen moved down to sit right above his knees.

“‘Stop Gwen, just stop, please’ No, I’m not going to, until I’M satisifed! You even lost me a date bc you want to be stupid and morph into one of your globby things, scaring him OFF!!” With the last word, Gwen used her sharp nails to squeeze above his knees instead, and that really got him on his feet.

“AHHHHHHHH…. ST-STAHAHAHAHHA!!—— NO!! GOHOHOD FUHUHUHUC-“ Ben didn’t know what to do, he was getting light headed, had to piss, was about to pass out, and he didn’t know how to make her stop.

“Wow~ this keeps you on your heels, huh? Sucks.” Gwen continued her torment on his knees.

“GEHEHEHEHEHWN PLEASE JUST STOP!! PLEASE!! IHIHUHI GOT TO PISS, MYHYGYHY HEAD HURTS AND I’M GOHOHOHONNA PASS OUT!! STOP!”

“Oop- sucks.” She continued, practically pericing his skin with her sharp nails.

“GWEN!!! FUCKING STOP! I’M SERIOUS!!!” Ben, being angry, mustered up enough strength to push her off.

This shocked her, bc no matter how mad he got he could never push her off like that. “You ok, Ben? I think I went a little overboard, huh?”

“YOU THINK?! A LITTLE?! Gwen, when somebody tells you to stop, no matter why they want you to, if they tell you to STOP, you fucking do it. You don’t continue. God, I’m going to bed.” Ben walked off, wiping his teary eyes from his face.

Gwen sat there in disgust in herself, she really went overbaord today, she’ll apologize when sbe sees her cousin tomorrow.

[anotherblblog]

Only Friends is delivering on its premise of being messy cuz Lordy Lordy Lordy….

Mew (who I still find incredibly boring) is full in his bad girl jush and of course now he gives Ray a hint of affection and also he tries to “we both got played” bond with Nick to get some intel in Boston and is also giving Top just enough proximity and privacy so he can grandstand and try and swing back to hurt Top like he’s feeling hurt by Top.

Ray is just absolutely a toxic black hole. Like damn. He really really really don’t give a fuck about Sand. Ray wants to white knight and save Mew and have baths and the worst most ineffective shave from Sand. Ray is spoiled. He knows it. He knows Sand is doing the most for him and he indulges in it and encourages it and punishes Sand for it.

Boston is Boston. Although it would have been foul if Mew did expose Boston’s sex tap publicly and/or tell/show Boston’s dad. Mew ain’t that kind of girl to really go scorched earth like that. So yeah Boston gets kicked and punched and cold shouldered for a bit but that’s probably the extent of the friend’s punishment of him, save for snarky remarks.

Nick and Sand both need to watch the “stand up” girl on tiktok cuz y’all are both hella pathetic. Sand is maybe worse for actually feeling bad and trying to do right by these awful people. Nick is at least true to the bird behavior of staying fixated on Boston and only caring about that.

Cheum is still a hypocrite and not the best friend to have but, by virtue of her sexuality, not involved in the cheating-lust-love dodecahefuckdron of it all so she looks better by comparison.

Top is there sometimes and sometimes I don’t fast forward though it.

Wasn’t expecting Drake to have 3 appearances or be more involved.

I still want Mix to show up or be in a flashback as Boeing.

[kreideprinz69]

I don't think they were going for anything angsty. The writers were probably just catering to the fan perception of Nagito, and being incredibly ableist by having him received "justified" scorn from his classmates. But of course it kind of backfired in that made the rest of Class 77-B come across as uncaring at best, and unsympathetic and meanspirited at worst. To the point that I'm actually wondering if the 2.5 OVA was written by someone else. Because that genuinely is the best part of the anime, in that it's one of the few things that adds extra layers and depth to Nagito. Still...the part of me that has a hunger for angsty fanfic can see some potential. Like I actually could imagine a scene where the others are trying to put him at ease with the idea that he deserves a second chance just like they do. Only for that to backfire and royally piss him off. "...Are you kidding me? None of you gave a damn about me before we were Ultimate Despair. Hell, you didn't even give a damn about me when you were all just as filthy and despair-ridden as I was. And now you're pretending that I'm part of the family? No. The only thing you people want from me is validation. If I decide that I'm too far gone to deserve a second chance, well that would mean the rest of you are irredeemable now wouldn't it? And you can't stand for that. All that you want from me is to hear me say that you're shining symbols of hope once more. After that? I could keel over the next day and none of you would bat an eyelash."

honestly, i wish i knew what was going through the heads of those working on that show. though i don’t really think they ever made his classmate’s treatment towards him look “justified” in any way, it always felt like they treated it as a grey area or an attempt to make people feel bad for nagito. which, i guess worked, because i’m here. but that was such lazy writing, and it did the whole class so dirty. It didn’t come off right at all (assuming there is a right way for it to come off) and just felt… so weird. that’s really the best way i can describe it. weird, out of place, did not make sense. the reason i don’t think they were trying to make his classmates look justified and nagito look bad, is because of how ineffective it was. the treatment started off before he even did anything wrong, and he was noticeably much more polite/normal(?) but that’s just how i interpreted it, i 100% get what you’re saying. whatever they were going for, it was not accomplished. with how redundant it was, it’s entirely possible they weren’t even going for anything specific. man.

the 2.5 OVA was much better. i did some brief digging and from what i could find, its the exact same people working it as the rest of the show. which again, really makes me wonder what exactly is going through their heads. i thought the OVA was a great expansion on nagito’s character and his worldview. not only that, but it was very refreshing to see him get along with the rest of the class. they could still recognize his abnormal behavior, but they treated it like they treated the other oddballs in the class. it felt much more in character to me.

i definitely get that angst craving too. i imagine that after they woke up, there would have been a discussion about his treatment in the class. they’re all working together to build a future, where everyone has a second chance. i’m sure nagito would need a lot of encouragement to take that second chance, and he’d probably be quite upset at the class having a sudden change of heart and attitude. i think he’d have a lot of confusing emotions to sort through though. first, he’s starting to see the class as actual people, since they’re no longer symbols of hope (and the whole hope thing comes with its own giant baggage.) second, there’s the difference in treatment he’s getting from them, which is probably confusing. especially because of what happened in the game as well. but i think on some level, he must care for them. i cant quite say whether it’s personal, or lingering feelings of admiration for his idols. i say that because im thinking back to the hug he gave fuyuhiko and kazuichi after waking up lol. so maybe he did learn to just strive for the future.

but i think i’m starting to get a little off topic, so, yeah! theres definitely a lot of angst potential there and it would for sure make for some interesting fics!! theres a lot that can be done with that whole idea.

i really hope this was coherent and made sense, i am fighting insomnia demons at the moment and i’m not even going to acknowledge the time right now!

[myristicisms]

Heartache was always something that never fully made sense; To be so saddened by the loss of someone or something that it physically hurt just didn't seem like something she'd ever worry about and yet that's the only thing Miriam had experienced over the last month. There was no book that could have prepared her for the feeling of pallid hands that once held her heart to suddenly squeeze and squeeze until it burst but all things considered she likes to think she'd handled the break-up well enough. ( Ice cream and chocolate strawberries certainly had eased the pain some. ) 

Self isolation was becoming ineffective and so she'd done what she knew would be a fix all; Book a tattoo. She'd had a few she needed finished or touched up but those could wait a while longer, there's too much space on her right arm she's decided and with how often she'd been laying upon her back, there wasn't any wisdom in deciding to finish the piece upon her back. There was the momentary debate of getting another piercing but that'll be a different beast to tame for later. Specifically when she won't have to fight her helmet off her head after killing the engine on her bike. 

It's been a while since her last ‘ impulse ’ tattoo, the others having been carefully and thoroughly planned out as a bigger piece throughout her entire body and she can't help but to awkwardly rub at one of the old pieces on the back of her shoulder, the blues and pinks of the flesh like a splash of watercolor upon alabaster flesh. ( Been way too long. ) She thinks to herself nervously, the gentle ding of the shop’s welcome bell easing away some of those woes. Her usual gal was in today so that certainly settled the usual jittery feeling of getting ink after almost a year of not doing so. 

Almost a year…

Why did she wait so long? 

Oh, right, non supportive now ex that was, in hindsight, kind of a dick. Crystalline blues roll at the thought, ( Why did I stick around for so long? ) Love made her a bit stupid, she guesses, or maybe it was the fact that Miriam had already put so much time and love into a doomed relationship, not that it mattered too much anymore since everything was said and done. It's the memory of all the things she couldn't do back then that helps her decide on what to get; “ A butterfly, they're free and beautiful aren't they? ” And it's so very cheesy but so very her that Miriam couldn't help the giddiness that came once her artist begun working on the stencil and reference. Positioning it wasn't too terrible either, she was all the more ecstatic to see just how well it blended in with the shards of her previous work along her body and how well it filled that blank space. 

The only bad thing about going to a shop that takes walk-ins and was more open as far as the layout goes was that damned bell dinging to signify another client coming in. Miriam never cared though, typically she minded her business and sometimes struck up conversation with her artist or the others within the shop. Tattoos were fun, to get and to look at, the rush of adrenaline that came with the first prickle of ink being laid into flesh and the heat that flooded through the area something akin to an addiction and- ( Man I missed this. ) It's a bitter thought that's cut off by the sound of a man’s voice talking to one of the other artists, quietly explaining what he wants done and she's embarrassed at how swiftly her gaze darts to see who the voice belonged to.

Damned nosey habits. 

Though the man looks nice, maybe he wouldn't be too terrible to strike conversation with while they're both stuck in their seats, briefly she's tempted to ask what he's planning on getting done but decides against it, she'd much rather see if the man was as receptive to conversation as she was or if he was the sort that preferred to get his work done in silence. 

lil starter for @sleeplesswork | Sonon Kusakabe

[theowritesfiction]

‘The Western Air Temple’

Okay wow, yes, the upside-down Air Temple is one of the coolest places in the world of ATLA. Interesting little Zuko flashback, too, I had forgotten that this was not his first visit to the temple.

Ok, so Aang is back to his flighty "I guess you don't have a firebending teacher lined up for me, so I’ll just goof around" ways. Enter Zuko. Zuko hatching his plans on how to convince the Gaang to accept him and delivering his monologue to a frog will never stop being funny. The Frog remains unconvinced. But I think Zuko's impersonation of Azula was actually pretty good. :)

Ooof, Zuko's first attempt to ingratiate himself to the group is so damn rough. Can't believe he used the practiced routine that didn't even work on the frog. Still... he was doing almost okay until he mentioned the Combustion Man. Seriously Zuko? Diplomacy is clearly this boy's dump stat. (Great for a future Fire Lord...) Gotta say, I love seeing Katara being absolutely ruthless to Zuko here.

okay, but for Zuko thinking that he should have said Azula sent the assassin... sorry, Zuko, that's 30 Jerk Points right there. I think it also clearly shows how biased Zuko is when it comes to his sister, and that HE is actually just as or even more ready to lie to make her look worse.

I loved all the back and forth between the Gaang when discussing Zuko, and I thought it was especially interesting how Toph mentioned that Zuko could have turned out a lot worse considering his crazy and messed up family, and like... yeah, sure, but... how much does Toph actually know about that? She has nowhere near the full story. And I get why Toph is arguing on Zuko's behalf - unlike the others, she has no negative experiences when encountering Zuko.

Do I give Zuko Jerk Points for burning Toph's feet? No. That was a complete accident. Also, I love Zuko's dramatic 'Why am I so bad at being Good?' cry.

Well... I guess the key to joining a group of heroes is to first hire an assassin to kill them and then make a public but ineffective spectacle about trying to stop said assassin. Problem solved!

Also, Sokka's boomerang throw was legendary. <3

I absolutely love Zuko sweating pinballs as Aang asks Katara if it's okay for Zuko to join. I cracked up laughing. And I love how angry Katara still is when she agrees to it. Also, the ending is just so perfect. I know Katara got a ton of hatred especially from Zuko fans for this episode, but screw that. The way she leans in menacingly against Zuko's doorframe and then proceeds to give Zuko likely the most threatening speech of his life? That's... amazing. Running away from Azula, only to run into Katara, that's too funny to me.

Jerk Points for Book 3:

Zuko - 640 Aang – 280  Ozai - 250 Roku - 100 Hide, Sokka - 80 King Kuei - 60 Toph - 50 Haru - 30