#i am extremely unhinged today

[shrewmingledotcom]

sasara kinnie blogging in my new jammies tonight

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Hanma's beige flag is that he once thrifted an old airline uniform polo and fucked you in it and checked up on you by pretending to talk into a muffled airline speaker to ask the frequent fliers if they needed anything.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Langston Hughes // DCeased: Hope At World's End

[minhosimthings]

My roman empire is seeing Tamil women in cotton sarees walking in Ooty and complaining about the north indian tourists wearing winter coats.

They said and I quote "If these people feel so cold here they should stay in their hellhole upstairs."

[yourfavepookiebear]

This is my first time making a request so sorry if this makes no sense.

Self aware Twisted Wonderland with a player who randomly gets transported into their world. For Characters I was thinking about Azul, Malleus, Leona, and Riddle.

If this is too much you can ignore it.

A/n : This request has been sitting in my inbox for 2 months so I decided to finally answer it 😭 also sorry anon, for the extremely late reply 😅 for some reason I feel like I'm writing a fairytale for kids or sum lmao, also I wrote this while simultaneously doing my homework jsyk , it took me a lit to write this if you can tell, but can you tell I wrote this in 2 different days ?

Cw: Leona being lazy and a bit unhinged, bad writing, short asf, not proofread, Riddle kinning pomeranians and chihuahas, Malleus just being Malleus, ooc, inaccurate character depiction

It's the day after Yuu appeared in twisted wonderland, the second day of school. (It's been a long time since I last played or read twisted wonderland so bear with me) for plot purposes and diversity, each character will have slightly different plot, like time and place.

◇ Leona Kingscholar

It was just another irritating day for Leona, as he was sleeping in the botanical gardens, skipping class as usual. His tail swished left to right, as he tried to fall asleep. For some reason though, much to his annoyance, he couldn't fall asleep. Normally he had no problem dozing off, but today was different. He grits his teeth and glares at air particles, then he sits upright and stares at a random direction. Suddenly he hears footsteps, and the familiar voice of Ruggie approaching his location.

Leona rolls his eyes just as Ruggie emerges, not even sparing him a glance. Ruggie sighs and walks towards Leona

"Hey Leona, I got your sandwich"

Ruggie then hands him a sandwich and glances at him

"What's wrong ? You seem pretty down-in-the-dumps today. Not that you're usually a ray of sunshine, but still."

Leona just huffs and plucks some grass from the ground, then answers

"I can't sleep."

Ruggie blinks owlishly, then tilts his head to the side

"Woah, THE Leona Kingscholar, unable to sleep ? That's a new one.."

"Tsk, whatever."

Is all Leona says, as he rolls his eyes and lays down on the grass once again, closing his eyes. Ruggie takes the hint and walks away, going back to wherever he came from.

About an hour later, Leona wakes up to the sound of footsteps, yet this time they're not Ruggie's. In fact, they're not familiar at all..

Leona opens his eyes but stays still, a bit curious to know who this mysterious person is. On one side he doesn't give a shit, but on another side he's curious because, just what could a stranger be possibly doing at NRC ?

Suddenly someone jumps on top of him, effectively knocking the air out of his lungs. He jolts awake, bewildered and shocked.

"What the-"

His eyes widen as he recognizes the person who's crushing him with their weight..holy shit, what the hell is the player doing here ???

"Player ?"

He says, baffled, he genuinely doesn't know how to react. One minute he was peacefully sleeping, the other he wakes up to the player suddenly spawning on top of him ?? His thought process is cut off as his ears are flooded with high-pitched screaming and shrieking

"OH MY LORD, LEONA ????? AM I DREAMING ?? HES SO MUCH HOTTER IN PERSON OMFG"

He blinks, once, twice, thrice, his mouth open and his eyes wide, his ears twitching

"Player ?? What..."

(I'm gonna end it here becuz Im lazy asf and I have to go sleep soon, the rest is up to you and your imagination sorry pookies)

◇ Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is in the mostro lounge, he finishes making a deal with some random student, he bids them goodbye with that shady smile plastered on his face, and as soon as they leave he looks over to the clock. 7pm, it's still early yet it's already dark outside. He sighs and grabs his stuff, preparing to go back to his dorm room. Suddenly, he feels something brushing against his leg. He frowns and looks around, confused as to what it may be.

He hopes its not a prank from the twins, as he shrugs it off and continues what he was doing, until he feels it again.

He gets up from his office chair and looks under his desk, only to find...

What ? There's someone asleep under his desk ?? He pulls them out from under his desk, and immediately recognizes that face. It's the player !

He is absolutely baffled. How did the player randomly spawn under his office desk, asleep and in pajamas ?? This is very confusing..

◇ Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was in his room, studying whatever the hell subjects they have in nrc.

He gets up to go drink a cup of natural mineral water with a 100% recycled bottle, then somehow trips on something.

He looks down and jumps 10 meters back, eyes blown wide as saucers and lets out the loudest and longest scream on earth, so loud that even I am put to shame.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"

Somehow though, for plot purposes, no one hears him. Tatatatata, he looks over at the thing that was on the floor and is shocked to see you, the player, asleep on his floor, snoring like, so hard every single one of the prehistoric cavemen (Leona included) would lower their heads in respect.

(Anyways skip I'm lazy)

◇ Malleus Draconia

As we all know, Malleus loves walking around at night, and that makes a lot of people think he's some insane psychopath who's gonna stalk them then impale them with his horns.

After his nightly walk he came back to Diasomnia dorm just to find, you, aka the player and the one he thinks of so religiously every single day. He takes a step towards you, which isn't a lot since he's at the start of a hallway and you're at the end but whatever.

And that was his first mistake. Lo and behold there were you, at the end of the dark ass hallway, staring at him like you just witnessed some middle aged guy take off his pants and wip out his d*ck, then smack you across the face with it, oh and as if it was so long Drake would be put to shame.

You screamed like a banshee and ran away as if you were being chased by Drake's pipe.

Then you yelled out louder than Leona's snoring "MAMA MIA WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING WILLY WONKA AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE" -Player's last words, may they rest in peace and remain forever remembered.

Jkjk you just ran into the wall and passed out. And Lilia was just watching the whole time and laughing his ass off. But you made Malleus sad tho :(

You woke up in Malleus's bedroom after having a nightmare about Drake's elevator.

[nd-babblinggoblinfromthevoid]

Words cannot properly express how much I hate being neurodivergent sometimes.

I HAVE to shower. Every day. If I do not. I am not okay.

Due to pots primarily, I overheat in my sleep. So literally every day I wake up I have got to shower. I can feel every inch of skin every strand of hair covered from sweat residue.

If I cannot wash that off every day. I become overstimulated immediately and extremely unhinged. I cannot think I cannot focus my mood is extremely negative I simply cannot function with that sensory status.

Today was day 3 of not having been able to shower (due to spoons and being a parent) and I snapped. I was shaking and crying and even yelled at inanimate shit in my house because I wanted to rip my hair out and shred my skin.

I finally had enough and I got into the shower.

Stood there a moment. Shaking. Crying. Bitching. Then berating myself for being such an unhinged pos. I got lightheaded and sat down. Cried more.

I have a little shower thing I say that helps. So I repeated it. Calmed down. Then I stfu and did my routine. Continued to improve. Kept saying my little thing every so often. Kept feeling better. Lighter.

Finally I just got out and did my after routine. Got dressed. I'm lying in bed still feeling stupid for the fact that 60% of my unhinged meltdown was washed away in the shower. My body is now all sensory goodness and we can all get on with our day.

I hate being like this. These not so whimsy sides of neurodivergence. I'm exhausted from the meltdown and from the task of showering itself.

Thanks for reading. Vulnerable snippet of my day today. Hope you're all doing better than I.

[actual-changeling]

It was actually rather hard to decide how to begin this meta post because there are essentially going to be two main parts: why Crowley does not actually avoid/run from his problems and why "going off" is not a bad thing regardless.

Then I wrote the first part and realised this is now 2.5k words long, so uhhhh I will grant part 2 its own post.

With that, welcome back to Alex's today-not-unhinged meta corner!

I am going to approach this topic from a psychological angle, which a lot of people have already done, but without explicitly mentioning it or going into depth. All my information comes from personal experience, research, my therapist, and my psychiatrist, just so you know I am not making shit up. I actually dug up some resources my therapist gave me a while ago.

Generally, there are four different fear/survival responses: fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. Most people have probably heard about fight and flight, since those two are usually the only ones that are mentioned/taught, so I will stick to explaining the other two.

"Fawning" refers to actively being submissive and subdued, both physically and emotionally. The goal is to appear non-threatening and to calm whoever is causing the fear response in the first place. It shows up as being overly agreeable, not having thoughts/opinions of your own and ignoring them if you do, your body language changing (e.g., making yourself smaller, taking up less space), and generally attempting to 'keep the peace' or reinstate it.

"Freezing" is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin—you freeze. It means slipping into a dissociative state, which disconnects you from your body, your emotions/mind, and/or the outside world. Usually, people stop being able to talk well or at all, they do not move, and if they do, it is on autopilot; you do not fight or flee, you simply exist until what is causing the fear response is over.

While dissociating, your brain is unable to form full memories—and depending on how heavily you are dissociating, it does not form any memories at all. 

Freezing as a response happens when fight, flight, and fawn aren't possible anymore, e.g., a child who has no internal mechanisms to deal with large amounts of fear because it's a child, so the only way to escape the pain and aggressor is by fleeing into your mind and shutting down.

Why am I telling you all this? Because most people tend to have one or two survival responses that dominate/they usually fall back on, and the same goes for Aziraphale and Crowley.

When faced with an outside problem and a lot of stress, Aziraphale's first instinct is to fawn, to placate the person, to diffuse the situation, to make sure everyone is agreeing, or, at the very least, submitting to authority figures or aggressors. It is what heaven teaches them—stick to the rules, don't ask questions, do what you are told. If fawning involves lying, he will do so, here the need for safety is stronger than his desire to be truthful and stick to his morals.

Unfortunately, the fact that this is his primary fear response is also the reason behind his extreme cognitive dissonance. How can you stick to the rules when you do not know what the rules ARE? So he is stuck trying to figure out what is "good" and what is "bad" so he can be a good angel and avoid doing anything that might be seen as bad or disobedient.

His secondary response to stress or fear is to fight—once it's clear that fawning won't work, he can and will switch over to being more direct and aggressive/less submissive. We see that happening when he gets discorporated in season 1 and needs to get back to earth, at the airbase, or when the bookshop gets attacked.

If I were to ask you what you think Crowley's primary fear response is, how would you respond?

Well, if you said "flight"—you're wrong, and I will explain why.

Flight is his secondary fear response, it is what he falls back on in absolute emergencies when everything is doomed and there's nothing he can do anymore.

Before that, though, he fights.

Even as an angel, he was already questioning the system, he was ready to go and tell God she was doing a terrible job, that her ideas were bad, that he wants to keep his stars and the universe— six thousand years are nothing! If you actively oppose existing rules and defy people's authority over you, fighting is the only option you have unless you plan on giving up or the response becomes too much to deal with.

Fear itself happens when you or someone/something you love is being threatened (whether that threat is real or simply perceived as such doesn't matter), plus there are a large number of more irrational fears.

Crowley's creations were threatened -> He goes against the rules, he wants to fight for them.

On the walls of Eden, he questions God and talks to an angel, his hereditary enemy, once again defying the rules, questioning them.

Job and his children were threatened -> He goes against orders to try and save them.

There is good reason to believe he went against God by saving some of the children from the flood.

He showed Jesus the kingdoms of the world—do we really think that was based on orders? No, it was once again Crowley not playing by the rules.

Wessex? He proposes the Arrangement, which is one gigantic "fuck you" in his fight against celestial rules. Everything after that goes back to Crowley knowing that their jobs suck and that they can cheat, fight the system by working together. In 1827, it gets him pulled to hell and punished, and yet he does not stop; he keeps fighting.

Crowley is the one who immediately tries to stop the apocalypse. Aziraphale needs to be talked into it, needs to be convinced with selfish reasons and personal pleasure.

The reason why both heaven and hell absolutely loathe him is not because he is a runner; it's because he constantly and consistently defies them. He fights.

In season two, he immediately tries to deal with the Gabriel problem while Aziraphale is standing behind him and saying "I don't know" to all of his questions. Taking him somewhere so they can figure shit out in peace is not 'running'—it's smart. Sure, it's far from ideal, but we see what keeping him in the bookshop brought them, don't we? The hiding miracle is what tipped heaven and hell off in the first place.

Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh based on a hunch, but once again—did that help? Did his journalist roleplay trip actually provide vital information that solved a single puzzle piece of that mess? No. Finding out that Gabriel was at that pub with some mystery person was a nice fact to know, but that's it.

During the ball, Crowley is scared, vigilant, prowling around the shop, checking windows, telling Aziraphale to "stop this charade" so they can figure out what to do. Aziraphale, in that moment, was already convinced that sticking to the rules would save them—a heavenly embassy on a technicality, surely the group of fallen angels who got booted due to not following heaven's rules will respect that.

Crowley goes to heaven, which is once again him actively looking for a solution, while Aziraphale also falls back on fighting because fawning is not going to do shit.

There are three times during which Crowley suggests fleeing—which is his secondary fear response—but those are exceptions. Let's have a look at them.

The first one is at the bandstand, the evening before the Apocalypse, and since Aziraphale is lying to him, the situation seems hopeless to him. Yet he is still having his 'agents' look for him, is still fighting.

Do you know why he even suggests running? He is about to leave when Aziraphale calls him back with "there isn't anywhere to go," and now allow me to insert the following passage from the scriptbook.

Crowley looks back. He looks at Aziraphale. Above them, a beautiful starry sky. And Crowley softens.

"Big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we could go off together."

The sentence in the show is slightly different, but they have one thing in common: If.

IF the world ends, we can still leave and be together. IF.

Crowley is NOT saying "let's leave", he is presenting Aziraphale with a contingency plan in case stopping the Apocalypse does not work. He is NOT running, he isn't even SUGGESTING to run.

It's a "if the world ends, we can be together. We don't need to be with hell or heaven; we can be in the stars," because remember what the end of the world would mean? Eternal torture for Crowley while Aziraphale bores himself to death in heaven.

The next time he suggests it again—when he stops Aziraphale on the street—several things have happened.

First, he did not leave. If he truly wanted to flee, he would have by now, but he didn't. He sits in a cinema waiting for the end: "Out of time. Out of hope," as Neil puts it. Then Hastur and Ligur show up on screen and tell him, 'You're dead meat, Crowley. You're bloody history. […] We're coming to collect you'.

We all know that means "eternal torture in hell," but if you're not convinced for some reason, have another snippet from the script book that did not make it into the show.

Dagon is speaking from the Bentley's radio while he drives towards the bookshop, saying that something has gone wrong and they're sure he has a 'perfectly reasonable explanation' for it. Once he gets out of the car, however, Dagon still keeps going and says the following:.

"Your explanation, and the circumstances that will accompany it, will provide a source of entertainment for all the damned of hell, Crowley. Because no matter what agonies the damned are suffering, Crowley, you will have it worse."

Crowley already knows that. He has been punished by them before, heard, seen, lived torture, there is no doubt as to what will happen should they catch him. So he does what any person with a single fucking brain cell would do—he tries to get his loved one and FLEE.

Flight is the best response in this situation, and if you need me to explain why, then honestly, I cannot help you anymore. I won't go into detail about Aziraphale's response, but, tl;dr, it was shitty and incredibly hurtful, go figure.

Now, let's get to situation number 3, which is his speech during the final fifteen. We do not have an official script for that, but someone did make transcriptions for all episodes; you can find them here. Additionally, I will copy some of what I already said in a different meta post.

Crowley, stuck in his trauma-induced hypervigilance and paranoia, suggests putting as much distance between them and the problem as possible. I think it is interesting that in ep1 he wants to get Gabriel away from them, while at the end of the season, he is ready to get them away from the problem.

So far, I have never seen anyone mention that change! And it’s important! The entire season, it is hammered into our heads how much they love being on earth. It is THEIR bookshop and THEIR car and THEIR life.

Crowley wants to protect that home, and Gabriel is a threat to it, a threat to both of them, their life, the bookshop—everything. He does not want to leave, he wants his peace and angel in one place.

Yet by allowing Gabriel to stay, Aziraphale destroyed the sense of comfort and safety Crowley had slowly developed over the last few decades. Heaven nipping down every now and then to check in with Aziraphale is very different from him sheltering the Supreme Archangel who is running from ‘something terrible’ without even asking if he’s alright with that.

Aziraphale calls it their bookshop, but he fundamentally still sees it as his space to govern and Crowley as a guest; he even calls it a 'heavenly embassy'.

After another horrible week and having his previously safe space violated by several different times and beings, Crowley is back to where he was before—without a home. That fragile existence broke apart, so he is standing in the heap of shards and telling Aziraphale 'I don’t feel safe here anymore, let’s leave’.

He lost his safe space, but he still has his safe person, his best and only friend, the person he loves. I doubt he cares where exactly they go as long as they’re together and it’s safe.

Returning to heaven—it is the one place Crowley cannot follow him to. It’s literally the worst option, he can’t go back, he won’t go back. So he invokes the bookshop again, if you don’t want to stay for me, stay for the bookshop, your books, your corner of existence that I thought we had carved out for ourselves.

There is a common error that people make regarding the timeline, which is assuming that during this conversation they are already aware of the impending apocalypse—but they aren't. Aziraphale himself has no clue, and while Crowley saw the conversation and trial, he does NOT know when it will happen. For all he knows, it could be tomorrow, could be in a thousand years, and, even if he had been given a date, I doubt they laid out all the details and how to stop it.

Considering that his original plan was "get drunk at the Ritz and then have us time," I don't think he knew literally anything about how or when to stop it. So no, Crowley does NOT suggest running away from earth and leaving it to die.

All he wants is some bloody peace and quiet where no demons, angels, or power-hungry floating heads can interrupt them. A space that is safe and theirs. There are also zero mentions of where he wants them to go; he is not talking about the stars or the universe. He wants to get away from where they currently are because heaven and hell show up uninvited whenever they please.

If your boss and ex-boss constantly kicked down your front door and stated their wish to torture you, would you stay there or would you move? Yeah.

This post got very long, but it was long overdue.

I am tired of seeing people call Crowley a callous coward who always runs away from his problems when he is the literal opposite. You take three sentences said under exceptional circumstances and apply them to Crowley as a whole, when it is nothing but his last ditch effort to keep himself and Aziraphale safe.

One last thing: If you come onto my post and start aggressively arguing about this, I will block you. Genuine discussions and questions are always welcome, being a dick is not, and I also simply cannot handle some of the rhetoric people in this fandom perpetuate because it's very triggering.

Make your own post, don't do it on mine.

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Tip the Scales Chapter 1

Prosecutor Sun, Prosecutor Moon, Judge Eclipse x Defense Lawyer (Devil's Advocate) Reader

(You are a charismatic defense lawyer in a constant competition with two ruthless prosecutors that do not understand your ideals about criminals deserving a second chance. You are also housemates with a certain bitter and retired judge, who has a habit of operating at night as a cloaked figure known as the Judge of the Damned. Things get complicated when your old friend Monty gets accused of a murder he claims to not have committed willingly. Will you balance the scales once more?)

Warnings: suggestive themes, possessive behaviour, mentions of violence

There was a particular universal truth that court employees would never dare to admit about court proceedings: not a single one of them actually wanted to be there. Those that did enjoy being present during a session were either lying to themselves or were being paid obscene amounts of cash to pretend to care. In other extreme cases, it was all a part of unhinged ambition sprinkled with a dash of insanity.

Normally the whole process was a dreary affair, varying from sordid and depressing, all the way to showing what an administrative inferno the whole institution had become over time. True to the Dickensian fashion of describing things, one could say that the gloomy and omnipresent fog that had consumed the city with the arrival of Fall was equally present in the courtroom itself, both metaphorically and literally, entering every pore and chilling everyone to the bone.

However, in our specific situation things were getting quite heated. The cold September fog had been rudely pushed aside by the steam of intense and fiery debate you were having with prosecuting attorney Sun.

A bitter rivalry existed between you and the celestial-themed animatronic, but over the past year it seemed to have bloomed into obsessive fascination on Sun's part. We could classifiy it as another universal truth that one was bound to eventually become infatuated and captivated by their “nemesis“.

Placing you two in the same room was a very bad idea. Or a very good idea, it honestly depended on who you asked. For instance, the general public that had come to listen to your long nonsensical argument had arrived there for the sole purpose of finding out whether you two would passionately kiss somewhere in the middle of the whole discussion.

The suspense was maddening, the tension was more than palpable. One of the clerks was fanning himself with a folder, wondering whether or not he had taken his heart medication earlier.

“Could somebody open a window, please?“

There had always been an unusually thin line between love and hatred, enemies and lovers, but somehow it seemed oddly fitting for you and Sun to combine both at the same time with no problem.

After a well crafted comeback, believing himself to be the victor, Sun winked at you, triumphant and his grin wide and sinister.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?“

“My dear sir, I cannot say, I hardly even felt anything.“

“I was under the impression that we have long abandoned this little “playing hard to get“ scenario.“

“Goodness, that sounds serious, delusions could be a sign of a system malfunction, you should get that checked, Sun.“

“Don't be so high and mighty. You will lose today, both the case and the little bet we made.“

“Oh, my, so ominous. I sure am devastated on the inside, inconsolable, I shall probably never recover.“

You were driving him insane. Healthy competition was usually highly encouraged, but this was beyond ridiculous. No matter how eloquent and skillful he was in the art of rhetoric, you refused to yield. You were still a relatively young jurist, having passed the bar examination barely two years prior, but your legal reasoning was unusually innovative and your application of creative solutions to impossible problems was astounding. There wasn't a single thing that Sun could throw at you without you catching it and throwing it ten times harder right back at him.

The judge, an elderly man that was diligently counting down the days till it was socially acceptable to retire from what was regularly a life tenure, was listening to the two of you bicker as if it were the latest installment of his favourite picture show series. He wondered if he should simply let you silly lovebirds borrow his chambers for a minute or two. Or thirty, wherever the feeling takes you. He was very supportive.

He was also the only judge in the building willing to tolerate the nonsense that you and the Celestial Prosecutors kept pulling off in the courtroom. It was free entertainment and he needed some amusement in his old age. The rest of the judicial assembly would have to pull straws each time a new case had to be assigned.

He remembered how different things had been a few years prior.

It was an open secret that the judicial assembly missed the old days when the esteemed Judge Eclipse had still been in office, before his abrupt retirement under unusual circumstances. Eclipse would always volunteer to do all the work, snatching case files from everybody's hands and closing himself in his chambers, leaving the possibility for the rest of the assembly to simply enjoy their coffee and gossip in the conference room.

Intense and immensely dedicated to his work, unyielding, unforgiving and merciless, Eclipse had been akin to a dark deity of the afterlife, deciding the fate of souls that had succumbed to corruption. His golden eyes had held nothing but pure contempt for evildoers, his mechanical heart perpetually hungry for the suffering of the wicked. Court sessions under his administrations had been a thing of horror for some and an example of a job well-done for others. Deranged and disproportionate punishments had made Eclipse quite unpopular in the criminal milieu, and there had been quite a few attempts on his life that would usually end up with the assassins themselves having their spines twisted into a pretty pretzel.

Self-defense, clear-cut, no questions asked, nobody left to mourn a few dismembered rulebreakers.

The euphoria had been too intoxicating, the flesh of Evil too delicious, the screams of the damned a symphony unmatched.

One thing had lead to another, interfering into interrogations, conflict of interest, violating every possible rule of criminal procedure, prisoners being found dead in their cells, acquitted individuals dying under suspicious circumstances mere days after their release.

The courthouse and law enforcement would always turn a blind eye. Whispers in the corridors, silent gasps in the archive rooms, everybody knew of Eclipse's tendencies, his desire to play god. Nobody had dared to make a fuss about the whole situation, not even when a few fellow judges that had been accused of bribery had one day "mysteriously" disappeared. It was all a silent approval. Crime statistics had been fixing themselves, who would dare interfere?

Deciding to return to topics less grim and vile, the current judge smiled fondly at the prosecutors and the sly defense lawyer before him. Such a sweet change, whimsy and passion reigning supreme, banishing the sepulchral dread of olden times.

Contrary to custom, Sun was working with his brother Moon by his side. It was definitely unusual for two prosecutors to work together on same cases and appear in court as a team, but nobody had ever complained about it and regulations had no explicit rule against it. It was Moon's duty to make a thorough research and keep Sun informed of any new facts or legal acts in order for Sun to prepare a proper presentation to enthrall everyone in the courtroom or ask for appropriate actions.

They used all of their individual strengths and skills to achieve the best results. Reminiscent of their older brother's inclinations, their methods and ruthless determination in the pursuit of their version of justice at all costs had become notorious, eventually making the general public refer to them as the Grand Inquisitors.

All of that aside, the two of them still had to make sure that each investigation went perfectly by the books and that there were no irregularities made by law enforcement in the initial stages of each investigation. Being a prosecutor was akin to being a sea captain that constantly kept hoping that his crew was sober. One single mistake meant that the other party would pounce on it like a feral animal.

And pounce you did.

For instance, you were easily capable of rendering a whole confession useless by claiming it was inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion. It was no trouble for you to stage a whole scene.

You had pulled off such a stunt a few times in the past and the results would always follow a hilarious pattern: the confused police officers would simply blink and question their general reality on whether they had truly applied excessive force, the public audience would try not to snack too loudly on the popcorn they had brought, the defendant would do his best to keep crying and keeping his story straight about how absolutely devastated and tortured he was, the judge would hope that no reporters would come crawling in the courtroom and asking about human rights violations. Again.

The celestial twins were unused to such audacity and blows to their pride. Sun and Moon had always been a powerful force that had never known the meaning of failure, the playing field had been theirs to dominate and it was pure madness to even think that anyone could place an end to that. And then you showed up and suddenly the courtroom was a circus, you were the ringmaster and you turned the two of them into the lead jesters of the whole show.

They were furious with you for making a mockery of their act. How dare you?

Moon did his best to remain subtle with his temper, even if his pencils did audibly snap in half from time to time. He had to keep an appearance a patient man, someone courteous and polite. It was of great importance to keep that thick layer of ice above the boiling madness that stirred deep within.

Oh, how you tested his patience still. It all kept accumulating, over and over, cracking the ice bit by bit.

He could write a masterpiece of scholarly analysis and a seemingly perfect reconstruction of events, and you would destroy all of that effort simply by telling him he wrote a date wrong, messing up the entire chronology and all further conclusions, rendering the whole thing useless. You always tripped him with the little things, formalities, so many tidbits that made the whole construction fall apart.

The devil was in the details, after all.

Speaking of which, since the majority of your clients were desperate people that had strayed from the morals of society into a life of crime for mere survival, you had earned yourself the title of Devil's Advocate among your colleagues. The world of your clients, however, was quite grateful for your services and assistance, all of them calling you their Fairy Godparent.

You got them out of trouble, you found them alternatives and new respectful jobs, you gave and gave, granting wishes and making them all happily dance to your music. If anyone had issues or needed help, they knew who to come to. You were waiting with good life advice, cupcakes, a hot cup of coffee and assurance that you would solve all of their problems. In many cases, you were the last angel before the gates of Hell for them, grasping their hand and pulling them back to safety.

After all, placing their fate in your hands was a far better alternative than sinking deeper into darkness and one day being inevitably visited in the middle of the night by the Judge of the Damned, having their life taken as the midnight bells rang.

Because of this looming threat, you did your best to save each soul you came across.

In this particular case, it was a young man that had gotten himself in some serious trouble after associating with a dangerous faction of drug dealers. Such business always came with its risks and there was no true loyalty nor help if someone got caught. Moreover, it was common practice to silence the person from revealing the others by simply ordering their assassination in prison. The young man had gotten way in over his head, too ambitious and too confident in his own abilities, intoxicated with the romantic ideas of what he had seen in movies.

His older brothers had approached you for help after his arrest and you had accepted, of course. You would get the boy out of trouble, free of charge, under the condition that he dedicated himself to getting his life back on track and you would be making sure things stayed that way.

Sun was still waiting for you to speak, and the rest of the room was wondering whether or not you were truly speechless this time or if you were simply preparing something spectacular. Of course, it was the latter. You had pulled a lot of strings and cashed in a few favours, but it was all for a good cause. You heard Sun's impatient voice:

“Ready to admit defeat? There is no conceivable way for you to counter any of this evidence, it is over.“

“Only for those that lack the imagination to do so. I call in question the credibility and the competence of your toxicology expert. You cannot claim that my client was in possession or consuming a certain substance, if its chemical components do no even match what you claim it to be.“

“Pure cocaine was found on his person. He has been known to associate himself with dangerous smugglers of forbidden narcotics.“

“A second analysis, that I took the liberty of ordering from another expert, proved that it was mere flour.“

“Excuse me?“

“He is a baker's apprentice. Poor boy, he is just keeping all of that secret out of shame, which is why we did not mention this earlier, by the way. Alas, I cannot keep this silence anymore, for I must act in his best interest. You see, ever since he was a small lad, it was his dream to make fine Danish pastries, but everyone in his general vicinity was obsessed with the whole “dashing gangster“ persona that is so popular right now, so no wonder that this sad young man, just look at his eyes, this poor innocent child tried to emulate all of that simply to get some respect from his cruel peers. So, he walked around with flour and pretended that it was cocaine. It is all because of societal pressure.“

Had Sun been gifted with a detachable jaw, it would have fallen on the floor by now. It was madness. Your claim was pure madness. He wasn't certain, but he did feel as if all of his systems were about to crash down in a sad attempt at self-preservation. Moon's crimson eyes had turned black and he seemed as if he were silently rebooting himself. It was best for everyone to have him unconscious for a bit, otherwise he would have probably gotten violent. The stenographer stopped typing and blinked at you in a very “what the actual hell“ manner and the old judge took his glasses off emphatically as people normally do in such situations for no specific reason other than dramatic effect.

“God, I haven't felt this much excitement since my last divorce.“

The defendant was very much surprised to hear this as well. He gestured for you to come closer and whispered to you:

“I am a baker's apprentice?“

“You are now. Be the role, become the role, make the rolls. Also, you start next Monday at five in the morning, I got everything already arranged with the baker on main street. This whole process should by over by then.“

“What? The only dough I know how to roll is the monetary one.“

“You learn while you live.“

The poor man looked at you with the expression of someone that would really rather just go to prison than go through such blood pressure oscillations.

His brothers, three friendly chaps in dashing suits, homburg hats and leather gloves, were all smiling and holding a thumbs up in encouragement. He turned around to look at them with a genuinely desperate expression. Listening to this nonsense was punishment enough, regardless if he did the crime or not. They had assured him that you were the best, but nobody ever said that your methods were the sanest.

You cleared your throat and spoke up again:

“In light of this and to support these claims, I enclose all the necessary documents and I am prepared to call the relevant new witnesses if you agree, Your Honour.“

“I can adjourn, I personally got no problem with continuing this on a later day of the week. I have to tell you, you kids are keeping me young, I always thought that my later years in life would be boring. Boy, I sure was wrong.“

A partially drunk man from the spectator area began to clap.

“Bravo!“

The bailiff looked over at him.

“What are you clapping for?“

“I thought this was the theatre.“

“It's a courtroom, is what it is.“

“What's the difference?“

Just as you were about to sit down, Moon was suddenly by your side, having miraculously finished his little reboot session and feeling more energized than ever. It was rather concerning, since he was capable of pulling such a stunt within mere seconds, changing location so fast before you could even register it. You had a theory that he was probably capable of some type of flight or teleportation.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you close to his face plate, crimson eyes trying to cut your soul to shreds. Nevertheless, you refused to lose your decorum and you kept up an air of aristocratic disinterest.

“May I help you, sir?“

“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not letting you humiliate us like this again.“

“And you are going to make things better for yourself by intimidating me in public like this? I really want to know what the plan is, I'm curious now.“

“Curiosity will kill you one day, little devil fairy.“

“I am certain that satisfaction will bring me back. What exactly do you want from me?“

He squeezed your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. It was oddly pleasurable, since you were tense and tired. Moon's voice was low, raspy, almost a whisper, akin to that of a nocturnal demon that haunted the shadows and ruled over nightmares.

“What goes around comes around and one day I will humiliate you, as well. I will tear those fairy wings apart.“

“Do you think I am afraid of you?“

“You should be. But, yes, I do have an additional request. Meet us in the conference room as soon as we are done here. We wish to talk.“

For a moment it seemed as if the two of you had forgotten that you were in an oddly compromising embrace in front of the entire courtroom. The same man from the spectator area whispered to the bailiff:

“Is this when the smooching starts? I could have sworn I read it somewhere in the play synopsis.“

“This is not the theatre!“

“Listen, Shakespeare once said that the whole world is a stage. He also said that we should kill all the lawyers, though, but I vote that we keep these three here, I need to know what happens next.“

A normal person would refuse to accept Moon's request after his little outburst, but you wished to talk to him and Sun, as well. Perhaps the old saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer“ had some wisdom to it, but you also genuinely wished to somewhat make peace with them. Maybe even explain your perspective and your ideas of justice to them. If things got really wild, possibly even form some fragile bond of friendship.

“Alright, I will be there, I just need some time to get my things first and I will also fetch a cup of coffee.“

You pushed him away and he allowed you to do so. However, his gaze was still on you even as everyone had risen and prepared to leave for the day. He watched you as you cheerfully talked with your client and his family, so warm, so caring. They gave you presents to show their appreciation, bags full of chocolates, teddy bears and a ridiculously large plush rabbit. Such whimsical things, childish and ridiculous, and yet your eyes almost had sparkles from how happy you were.

You were considered a beauty by many, but you were not coquettish, ignoring any amorous comments with your usual aristocratic disdain. Your hair was long and soft, well taken care of, but there were always a few little disobedient tufts that almost appeared like tiny and cute devil horns. It was impossible to straighten them out and you simply let them be.

You had a penchant for black pinstripe suits. However, the professional sterness was mitigated by the presence of a star-shaped pink diamond brooch pinned to the striped bow on your chest area. Moon found it conveniently suitable for your “fairy godparent“ aesthetic. The diamond would catch even the faintest amounts of light, reflecting it on surrounding walls to signify that you were approaching. You were wondrous, gentle hues of pink always heralding your arrival.

Sun spoke to him as the two of them made their way to the conference room, distracting him from his reveries:

“They are so cold to us and yet so warm to them. Did you see that smile?“

“Our fairy sees value in miscreants and mongrels. It is only a matter of time before those strays bite the hand that feeds them and then the little fool will come crying to us.“

“It would be cruel of us to refuse them a warm embrace, brother.“

Moon pondered the thought, the potential image of you in a disheveled state, disappointed and heartbroken. There was something wonderfully poetic about the idea of your rose garden withering away. It was a fair trade for all the times you kept trying to ruin their own view of the world. He and Sun were the righteous hands of justice and not even you could protect your little army of demons forever, shielding them with your dark angel wings till one day their final feather crumbles to dust. A misguided fallen little seraph had to have limits.

Sun and Moon waited for good while for you to arrive. Getting coffee was serious business, after all.

The windows in the conference room were covered with Venetian blinds, creating a game of light and shadow, giving it an air of mystery and melancholy. However, the moment you entered, your diamond brooch cast little sparkles of warm pink all over the walls.

You were carrying the bags with gifts and also balancing your coffee cup. It was honestly a miracle you did not spill everything yet. You set it all on the large table and for a moment you almost seemed to have forgotten the two animatronics even existed as you were fiddling with the little treats you had received.

“These chocolates are my favourite. It is a shame you two can't eat, you are missing pure heaven. Now, what exactly did you two want to talk about?“

Sun was very straightforward and went right down to business.

“You cheated, lied and manipulated facts today.“

“Me? I can only aspire to be that productive in one single afternoon.“

“Furthermore, you shamelessly tried to avoid the consequences of losing our little bet.“

“Tell me something: are you more upset about the case or the bet? It seems to me as if the latter is tormenting you more than the former.“

“I am not answering that.“

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask like a sensible man, we don't need these convoluted schemes for something that simple.“

“Would you, then?“

“No.“

“See, this is why we need the schemes.“

“Such a tragedy your problems are, Sun.“

You opened another box of chocolates and you were wondering whether to try the one with dark ganache filling or the one with hazelnut cream. You were rudely interrupted when Moon lifted your chin up to look at him.

“You are no longer going to prance around acting as if the justice system is your own personal circus. If we expose what you did today, you will be kicked out of the Lawyers' Association and you will lose your license to practice.“

“That sounds so depressing when you put it that way.“

“I personally can appreciate what you were trying to do for all those people in the past year or so, but enough is enough. We could have offered you a plea bargain, had you only asked us. We are more than happy to settle if those puppies of yours mean that much to you, but they will need to serve time, whether you like it or not.“

“When they get in the system, it's over, it will haunt them and follow them for the rest of their lives, from getting employment all the way to daily life and relationships.“

“None of that is your concern, Y/N. You cannot save everyone.“

“With all due respect, Moon, you have no right to tell me what to do. I do not hate you, but I will not tolerate you being in my way either. Do not be fooled by my kind nature, you have no idea who you are playing with. Dreams can become Nightmares fairly quickly.“

“I am saying all of this because I do not want you to share the same unfortunate fate that keeps repeating itself in your family. Always best friends with the wrong lot. You need to stop fraternizing with criminals, for your own good.“

Moon expected a specific reaction from you with that statement, foolishly assuming that he would hit the right spot, that he would cause fear, pain, uncertainty and a need to run somewhere for some emotional safety. Even Sun knew that he had gone too far with that topic.

You were not having it. Yes, you were a regal and delicate flower. However, that flower was also poisonous and with plenty of thorns. You huffed at him.

“Oh, so we are playing that card now? While we are on the subject of family tradition and dubious practices, I am well aware of the person that gets rid of the truly bad people. Did he ever come for any of my current and recent clients? No. Therefore I don't see why you are so determined to lecture me about helping those that only do crime out of necessity, not evil. If anything, this is just petty revenge because you hate losing and because you are a manipulative jerk with no empathy for the misfortunate, Moon. If you wish to punish someone, start with yourself.“

That certainly did hit a nerve.

Moon went over to the window, pulling the blinds shut and letting the room bathe in darkness, the pink light disappearing. You blinked to adjust your eyes.

“Is this really necessary?

Moon's voice was unusually low, almost a whisper:

"Is darkness not a familiar thing to you, little devil fairy? You certainly seem to linger in the shadows, refusing to see the light, you are blind and unable to grasp reality as it is."

You sighed and shrugged.

"That is still better than believing in blind justice. Also, at least I got the comfort of knowing that Sun over here cannot see anything right now, either.“

The daylight animatronic made a huff at your words.

“I still know the basic layout of the room, thank you very much.“

Sun then leaned over to you and whispered:

“Now, why did you have to tell him all that? He is very touchy on that subject.“

“Well, he started it.“

“And you had to continue it?“

“Yes. I too am allowed to be petty.“

Moon's crimson optics were the only light left and they were getting closer, wicked and menacing. Their glow suddenly disappeared and all that was heard was Moon's malicious cackling. Even with Sun present, you knew you were pretty much screwed and that it was best if you made your merry way in the opposite direction.

An interesting chain of events followed that led to even more interesting consequences. You reached for the nearby bag that had the giant bunny plushie in it, throwing it in the general direction of Moon's laughter, hoping that it would hit him and buy you enough time to run out of the room. However, you miscalculated while waving your hand, accidentally hitting Sun in the face instead. In your defense, you could barely see a damn thing in the dark.

As this happened, Sun stepped backwards out of sheer instinct, bumping right into Moon as he was trying to elegantly sneak up. This caused Moon to lose balance and fall on the floor. As he tried to catch onto the table to pull himself back up, his hand landed directly on the coffee cup and the whole contents spilled over the edge right onto him, ruining his coat, vest and shirt.

Needless to say how much noise you three idiots had made in the process.

You reached for another bag, and you began to swing it around without a care in the world.

“Stay back, both of you, I am armed with plushies and I am not afraid to use them.“

Sun's face kept being caught in the collateral damage, of course. With a swift motion, he managed to catch you and pick you up, placing you on the table and pinning your wrists to it to stop you from further attacking him with such a deadly weapon. Meanwhile, Moon was removing his coffee-stained coat and vest, lamenting how the whole fabric was ruined now.

“This is not how I envisioned this meeting to transpire.“

The whole scene was then interrupted when a clerk opened the door, seeing the two celestial animatronics looming over you while you were lying on the table, Sun holding your wrists and Moon having half his clothes off.

The man blinked a few times, before clapping in joy.

“Oh, my god, finally. I have been placing my bets on the three of you for months. I have to tell the others that they owe me money. They said you three would get together by December, but I was a visionary and I said somewhere in Fall. Ah, passion! Such a fantastic thing. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds, you! I'll tell the group of people that is standing right outside not to disturb you for the next few hours, okay? Okay, take care.“

He closed the door and left, leaving the room in darkness again. A few moments passed and you burst out laughing, unable to control yourself. The situation was absurd and you were starting to love every minute of it.

“I must say, this madness is better than some boring date. We should do it again sometime.“

AO3 Link

[seeminglyseph]

I really appreciate that Eurylochus in Epic I am pretty sure is adapted from a character in the original who is at the very least somewhat antagonistic and cowardly in characterization and has spun him into a compelling and interesting character who has genuinely caused the fandom to basically to be like “but was he wrong though?”

Because like, the fact that at multiple points both Odysseus and Eurylochus have been right at different points of their adventure and just too fucked up emotionally or too “we can’t talk about things” to like. Clear up the issues they were having, means that they just. Became a tragedy.

And it is especially beautiful because Eurylochus and Polites bring this weight of friendship and loss to Odysseus in Epic, despite their existence in the Odyssey fully lacking that characterization. Though I think it is part of the miscommunication at times because like. Perspective. And if you try to look up extra information from the source text to give more context, Eurylochus is so different in that source text that like… it will back up arguments in favour of Odysseus more easily. But modern sensibilities side with Eurylochus more easily due to monarchs and tyrants like… heavily falling out of favour. So things like kings, gods, princes, captains, status, and rank are like… they exist but they aren’t seen the same.

Like the Odyssey is set in the Mycenaean age, late Bronze Age. This was a tale of ancient times when Homer was telling it. So by modern standards things can’t help but be archaic in ways. Especially given that The Iliad and Odyssey have so much to do with colonization and war and just like. Contemplating it. Existing in it and the aftermaths of it, and being conscious that it is being told to a world of people who are still acting and living in a unifying country due to colonization, that is expanding and growing its power with war and language and colonization. And the stories of the past wars are both glorious and tragic because of the necessity for glory to the heroes of the past but caution and understanding that…

Like Troy was once favoured by Zeus, that favour can be lost or swayed. Only the gods can count on their power lasting for eternity, men must know that a grudge can bloom anywhere and topple the mightiest kingdom if he does not mind his actions carefully.

The Aeneid, by Virgil which is written much later and I admit I have only read a summary, refers to Odysseus (through his Roman name Ulysses) really negatively, but that’s partially because the Romans kinda saw themselves as refugees and survivors of Troy. So like. By the time the Aeneid was being written, it was kinda the story of “those bastards who burnt our home down” from what I understand.

“Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” For realsies. Looking things up apparently the Aeneid was the most popular version of both the Odyssey and the Iliad for a while and it wasn’t until the World Wars that Homer’s versions came back into fashion. Part of that was translation issues but still, damn.

This has become the most unhinged ramble, I’m sorry. I don’t know what any of this is even about. Translation? Perspective? Adaptation? The power of storytelling? All of it? Honestly the fact of the matter is that Eurylochus has been adapted to a new character for Epic, but he fits the narrative of the Odyssey especially as far as we need it to be told today because of how power structures work, but it’s been executed extremely well.

It keeps the technicalities of the traits of the poem “cowardice” and “mutiny” and creates a character with insecurity and missing sense of self who is afraid in a reasonable way and in order to overcome that fear reacts with aggression or violence. But in a way that is encouraged, acceptable or rewarded for a soldier. However, as a second in command, he is accustomed to having a role where he checks Odysseus’ plans for flaws. This is a good position to have him in when you’re plotting a battle action, it’s a bad position to have him in when you need him to provide a united front to keep the crew from panicking.

His position as both one of the crew and Odysseus’ Right Hand Man puts him in a position where he gets part of Odysseus’ picture, and is used to a relationship where he can be comfortable and doubtful and easy with Odysseus, however Odysseus as the Captain and the King cannot be fallible in the eyes of his men, because his men need to be able to follow his orders without question in the case of a crisis or it will be a serious issue.

Honestly the whole “I need you to be able to trust me and follow my orders in a crisis” is… part of general insubordination going on into modern day practice in crisis response and military as far as I understand it so like. I do get that. Though like. They are… two deeply damaged and traumatized men who just… cannot have a proper conversation with each other.

And also I am of the opinion that Odysseus in Puppeteer, when he brushes off Eurylochys’ attempted confession with his

“There's only so much left we can endure”

I am pretty sure that is not just brushing off, that is fully Odysseus admitting to Eurylochus like “I can’t handle anything else, please.” Like. My brain is making parallels to FMA “terrible day for rain” and Eurylochus drops it because he’s looking at a man on the verge of breaking down, and grants him some dignity or peace.

I mean Mutiny calls back to Puppeteer when Odysseus calls Eurylochus out, he would have done the same. Eurylochus wanted to cut and run on Circe’s island, leaving the men she had to their fate. But since Odysseus has all the power he carries all the blame, which makes it easier when any of the others make a mistake or something goes wrong. And it’s part of the reason Ody goes back to being Captain as soon as the crew is in trouble again. If they’ve angered a god, it’s better and easier to have Odysseus deal with it.

Unfortunately for everyone Odysseus has now crossed the Despair Event Horizon and all that matters is Penelope, Telemachus, and Ithaca. Everyone else can go fuck themselves.

Which, you know. Bodes well for all the fucked up dweebs who’ve been harassing his family for years. That’s probably gonna go great for them considering all the last shreds of his humanity he sacrificed to get home and see them safe.

[wannaeatramyeon]

//peeks in here//

I am shyly going to ask if requesting where the reader is Goo’s younger sister and where Samuel somehow gets hired to protect Goo’s younger sister (despite the younger sister knowing some self defense) / the reader falling for Samuel? Would be okay with you? :0 (if that makes any sense-)

If not, that’s totally fine :>

Just thought I’d give it a shot aha-

Sure that's ok with me anon! Sorry for the delay! Man I miss the days before Sammy was fully unhinged.

Samuel Seo x Goo's Younger Sister!Reader: Plushie

Goo doesn't like this.

The way your eyes widen upon first meeting, the way his linger a moment too long.

If he wasn't busy being out of town, running around like Charles Choi's very well paid dog, he wouldn't need to do this.

But Samuel, with his terrible daddy issues and irrational need to prove himself-

Goo might as well take advantage of it.

"If she misses even a hair on her pretty lil head then I'll cut yours off, ok Samuel?"

"Oppa!"

.

.

Sammy-

(Or Samuel as he likes to be called. Which you learned after you earned a disapproving glare and a correction each time. Good thing his glares have no effect on you and you don't care what he likes.)

- is more patient with you than his haughty and bored expression may suggest.

To your annoyance, it seems that he has taken your Oppa's word to heart and has made it his current life mission to keep you in sight and within reach almost all times.

"What do you like to watch, Sammy?"

As if on reflex, the glare comes. Except it doesn't hold anywhere near as much frostiness as it did in the first couple days. He's still exasperated, but becoming resigned to his unfavourable nickname.

"Nothing."

You're also getting used to his short, curt responses.

If you think about it, It's kind of ridiculous that this man is sitting next to you in your apartment. Very close quarters. Shadowing you for over a week now.

Dressed down. In a hoodie that is at once large and comfy, yet extremely tight in certain areas, and sweatpants. His dress code has gradually loosened. From expensive tailored suits, to casual shirts and chinos, and now to this.

This situation can be read as intimate. Except he's only here because he has to be, and your Oppa doesn't believe you can protect yourself.

(You wanted to tell Goo that he's wrong. He was the one that trained you up, after all. But there's no stopping him once he gets something in his head.)

"You must like to watch something. Action? Thrillers? Comedies? Documentaries?" 

"I prefer to read."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, "What about when you were a kid? You must like something then."

An inscrutable expression flashes across Samuel's face, his next words come out forced. "Nothing. I couldn’t- didn’t watch anything."

Oh. 

You file that away for another time, maybe when you don't have whatever this wall is between you. If that day ever comes.

That small bit of insight into what sort of boy this man used to be.

Because the likely reasons he couldn’t are either he wasn't allowed to or couldn't afford to, and neither of these are great choices.

You decide to breeze over it. For today. Deciding that Sammy is not the sort of person that would want any sort of sympathy. That he would most likely interpret it as pity.

"Well, let's watch this. It's my fave."

Unfortunately your fave is nothing short of absolute trash.

.

.

Samuel sits silent throughout the full 30 minutes.

At the end, you turn to him and press for his thoughts.

"It's... not bad."

His answer stuns you. You don't hide your expression and receive a small smile in return.

You look at him in a new light.

If someone was to ask either of you when it started, both of you would probably answer this moment was when the fondness started to grow.

.

.

Goo would likely kill him.

Trace a blade along each of his tattoos, dig in and watch the crimson flow.

If Goo knew that Samuel had any sort of anything towards you, Samuel would suffer a fate worse than death.

Still, the close quarters are doing nothing to help his budding interest.

The show was a turning point. From you being Goo's somewhat bratty and annoying sister-

(Goo is extremely bratty and annoying himself, of course it would run in the family.)

- to you being… Well.

You.

A fully formed person in your own right.

Your laughter changes from grating to infectious.

Your questions from prying to simply curious.

Your 'Sammy' from exasperating to endearing.

Even his assigned job to look after you no longer feels like a chore, another chance to nurture his Secret Friend status.

It's enjoyable.

.

.

Your shopping habits test the limit of Samuel's patience.

Your shoes are also testing the limit of your foot arch, but you decide it's worth it to see how long he can bear traipsing after you.

He might be winning this one as he follows you obediently, store after store.

Reaching for his wallet each time you carry an item towards the register. You rebuff him with a wave of your black credit card (technically, your Oppa's black credit card) and Samuel seems to suffer from not being able to perform this act of gallantry.

Offers his opinion even when you don't ask, usually in distaste at something you're looking at. A huff of laughter when you accuse him of being the one with no taste. 

Accuses outright you of being tasteless when you ponder over purchasing an adorable plushie.

Samuel dismisses it. "It's ugly."

"Well it reminds me of you!"

He stills for a moment, shock briefly crossing his face before chuckling. Eyes lighting up with mirth.

And you think 'damn him, he's not ugly at all.'

Annoyed, you return the plushie back to the shelf with force.

You're still petulant as you continue to look around afterwards, and he seems to relish in the way you stomp around heavy footed.

His apology comes hours later, when you're waiting at the food court. In the form of some greasy junk food you demanded in one hand; the plushie you squealed over and he physically recoiled at, in the other.

"To remind you of me," he smirks.

That night, as you lay awake with the plushie in your arms. You also think 'damn it, it does remind you of him.'

And squeeze it tighter to your body.

[superm4ks]

gentlequeers a short look into Johnny Herbert lmfao

This herb mf fascinastes me because he’s clearly besotted wid Verstappen on some old school level due to his driving and his general verstappen-ness but he can’t fucking get over that giant fucking chip on his shoulder that max 1) owes him nothing 2) isn’t British 3) prolly not particularly fond of him either.

Like every Max fan who heard about FIA giving max community service for swearing collectively turned to a camera like in fleabag to be like 😐 ‘Herbert was in that room’ it wasn’t even a meme it was just like. Of course he was .

And even in the statements he’s putting out defending that insane fucking decision hes still doing the usual Herbert ‘hot and cold’ shit wid Max like this is FROM his justification on the extreme nature of the punishment:

“That (swearing?) showed Max's rebellious streak. I love that side of him, it is what makes Max, his honest and outspoken character.”

This shit sends me out the stratosphere bro like he’s a FAN he a fan he fan he’s just fucking so British he can’t fucking function wid an shooter like Max that won’t ever put the Union Jack around his shoulders and tap dance for his side of the pond.

Same in Austria. Just an example . U go to Austria (hold my hand. Baby we must) where he was 1 of the stewards responsible for Max’s 10 second penalty in that contact against lando ((while coincidentally haha, not penalizing lando for going over track limits like 49 times before they had contact, then when he finally did he considered that time served post race and Lando never dealt wid those consequences during the race. Just wanted to . Say that 🫶🏽.)) but yeah this is was a penalty that was applied immediately without doubt and where the burden of responsibility regarding the crash was placed 100% on Max. About this decision Herbert said, freely, sober i assume, I swear I’m not making this up,

“That intimidation is something that Lewis [Hamilton], Michael Schumacher and Ayrton Senna have always done. When you come up against Max as he is driving today, there’s a point if you’re Lando that you have to say: ‘I am here. I am at your side. You are trying to squeeze me off the circuit. And I am not going to move.’

“Lando did the right thing. He did not move. He did not have to. Some people said he could have moved. But that is not how you beat Max or how you win the Grand Prix.”

So while the burden of contact falls 100% on Max and he MUST be punished for racing hard, Lando is doing the ‘right thing’ racing him hard to the point of contact and nearly taking them both out, because it means there was a chance of beating Max. Do you see how brazenly fucking biased that is? How one drivers hard racing must be stopped but another’s is to be celebrated and encouraged? I’ve talked Austria and the literal unhinged witch hunt that followed not just from fans but mclarens top bitches and the media in general at length before. And how it got so fucking bad drivers old, retired and very much active had to come out the woodwork like ayo y’all being weird now fr lmfao WTF is going on ((It was beautiful tho.))

I think Johnny .. like Nando once put it, kinda, paraphrasing 😭 became a cop because he cud not win a title. He was a good driver too, he won races, he’s one of the few loud voices in that room that has the credibility to back up his stewarding calls. But that doesn’t mean he’s objective, or even normal, when it comes to Max. In a sport that employs Ted kravitz and is proud of it Herbert might be the most deranged fucking person under contract rn. And as a max fan yk I have to respect the nerve . The commitment . But I’ll never respect the man, as f1 fan, not even as a max fan. And I think part of what’s pushed his decisions towards the extreme this past few years is that he knows that too. He knows , like the aftermath of Austria showed, like the whole circus in Singapore put on BLAST and made a fucking mockery of not just his lilly ass but the whole FIA, that Max doesn’t need or care for his approval. Max has his flowers. Herb just a cop wid a laminated card . And good for him yk. Keep fighting the good fight brother . Maybe you’ll get him one day

[mariacallous]

Sean, it’s Hillary Clinton.

I am so excited to be at the Democratic National Convention here in Chicago and to have been able to speak to the country tonight.

Elections are about the future -- and Vice President Kamala Harris and Governor Tim Walz represent just that. They offer a hopeful, unifying vision for our country. They are talented, experienced, and ready to lead.

While Donald Trump wants us to believe that progress is impossible, I’m here to tell you that it’s not. But it’s up to us to come together and make it happen.

Will you make a contribution of $10 or more to the Harris-Walz campaign today and help us celebrate this historic moment?

This can’t be a woulda-coulda-shoulda election. Too much is at stake.

Donald Trump’s plans are more extreme, he is more unhinged, and the guardrails that constrained some of his worst instincts are gone.

We know who Trump is and what he will do if he regains power.

But, we also know Kamala Harris -- and how she is relentless in the pursuit of justice:

As a prosecutor and Attorney General in California, she took on drug traffickers, polluters, and predatory lenders.

As a U.S. Senator, she rigorously questioned squirming Trump administration officials and nominees.

As Vice President, Kamala has sat with the President in the Situation Room, helping make the hardest decisions a leader can make.

This brilliant prosecutor is more than ready to make the case against convicted felon Donald Trump and his Project 2025 agenda. But the only way she will succeed is with the full force of this grassroots team behind her.

Please, Sean, join me in supporting Kamala’s historic campaign to be the next President of the United States by making a contribution today. $10 or any amount that is meaningful to you will make a huge difference in our ability to win come November.

Thank you, Sean.

Let's do this,

Hillary

[anghraine]

Today's unhinged "good God I hate how much extreme generosity I'm expected to extend to the Peter Jackson films by people who make wildly bad faith arguments about things I like" rant:

I am very deeply tired of people insisting with zero evidence that of course the LOTR films are imperfect, but the difficulties of adapting LOTR are such that it wasn't possible for them to be better than they were—in, apparently, any respect. They just couldn't be done better, at all, because it was so hard to make something watchable at all.

This is always just like ... really? Really?? Just what prevented them from making better decisions about anything? What exactly made casting every actor of color as barely differentiated villainous hordes in the twenty-first century so necessary and unavoidable? The glamorization and vast expansions of battle scenes and insertion of "heroic" war crimes was the highest film as a medium could aspire to in the early 2000s because of what insuperable force?

What made it impossible to give Arwen a coherent character arc? The films could not have been made without the underlying assumption that most of the cast are NPCs who will only do the right thing, when they will, if prodded or manipulated or influenced by main characters? In what way is this an inevitability of adaptation or film that simply couldn't have been conceptualized differently, much less better?

There is zero explanation or justification for why any of this stuff (or the myriad other flaws) had to be that way and couldn't have been done better in any way at any point. It's just stated that the films that exist must be the best films that could have existed because they're the ones that do exist and are popular. QED.

That doesn't make any sense, though, and it doesn't convince anyone who doesn't already agree. The idea that they could not have been better in any way (including their worst quality, which again, is the extremely racist casting), that some force was preventing not only the actual filmmakers but any filmmakers that could possibly exist from doing anything better just seems patently absurd.

You can like them and respect what they did achieve without demanding that everyone buy into a baseless and irrational argument that their pop culture success means nothing about them could possibly have been done any better. Look, I was in my mid to late teens at the time. I remember the early 2000s quite well. It wasn't now, but we are not talking about an age so divorced from our own that any of these things were somehow fundamental to the media landscape.

There are ways in which the LOTR films were very good that were essential to their popularity then and now. This does not require anyone to accept that it was literally impossible for them to be better than they are or that some defense is required against every criticism of them ever.

I am not, incidentally, talking about removing Bombadil, an entirely understandable and defensible decision that the film defenders in my notes somehow always feel the need to bring up. I know that changes had to be made, that adaptation is not a word for word transcription, that it would always be a difficult text to adapt, that structurally minor elements had to go, that they are cinematically beautiful films that a lot of work and love went into. I know this. EVERYONE knows this, because for the last 20 years it's been impossible to criticize anything about them without being reminded. Their accomplishments, and their existence, do not mean that any choice made by the filmmakers must definitionally have been the right call and could not possibly have been better in any way.

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

I think a lot about that one anecdote about Jeremy - the one where he wrote himself fan mail. I obviously didn't know him, but for me, this story encompasses many of the character traits I think he possessed: a delightful eccentricity, humour, a perfectionism that was both a blessing and a curse, a little vanity perhaps, and an underlying sadness.

I think and talk/write a lot about him and Granada Holmes, and while I am sometimes glad I don't belong to those people who have to worry that their idol goes online and sees all the unhinged things written about them, it also makes me sad that none of us has the chance to write him any actual fan mail. I get the impression that he was the kind of person who would be very flattered to receive fan mail for his 90th birthday! So I decided to do just that! It's very embarrassing and sappy and probably mad - but here we go!

Dear Mr. Brett, since you would turn 90 today, I think you would love to learn just how much your portrayal of Sherlock Holmes still means to so many people (including me) today - decades after you worked so hard to gift us the best possible version of Holmes! I greatly admire and love the depth you gave to the character, and no less your own strength, kindness, and determination. I was born too late to ever have the chance to tell you, but you and your work make me a little happier every day and I am so very grateful for that. You truly played the best Holmes there ever was, and maybe the best one there ever will be. I wish there was a thing I could write to give you back some of the joy you give me daily. Happy birthday! Sincerely yours, a Tumblr user who now feels extremely embarrassed but nevertheless meant every word she wrote Ps: Please do send me a signed photograph, I can guarantee you I will faint if I find it in my mailbox. Pps: I agree that you are prettier than Rathbone, Wilmer, and Stephens!

[whatbigotspost]

Guys. If you follow me you well know 1) I can be petty as hell and 2) I am always happy to write extremely long and thorough take downs when needed and 3) I love sourcing things and know no limits to spending my time on BEING RIGHT 😂

Well today I brought all of this at work, cranked to an 11. Some technology service we pay for tried to claim they’re taking us to collections for lack of payment when both myself and one of my fave coworkers has spent the past year trying over and over to get them to correctly link the payment we 100% did pay (and we have provided ample evidence of doing so) to our account. We have asked their customer service to help us a dozen times and when prodded, their staff has admitted more than once that we did pay and the outstanding balance is wrong. But they just. don’t. CLEAR THE GODDAMN BALANCE ON OUR ACCOUNT ONCE AND FOR ALL.

And like…WE are the customers here! And nonprofit customers at that! It’s so unhinged for a megacorp to treat us this way when our resources are so limited. Like you’re really threatening a charity with collections?? for?? something?? we?? did?? pay??

When said beloved coworker first saw the collections threat email earlier today, I think a little piece of her soul died, as did mine…and when she asked me what we do now that I was like friend leave it to me, this is where I shine!!!

And I went full on me. Professional me but like me writing as many words as I wanted to. Pulling historical proof, asking why we’re being treated like this when we’re a small nonprofit who they could be donating this stuff to anyway, instead of taking up our time to waste because they don’t know how to run their business or comport themselves professionally. I had proof of payment in not one but 2 forms, email threads with 6 people in company who had contacted me and I attempted to get help me but who ultimately did not.

Like I’ll be the first to admit it was overkill in the most deliciously “how fucking dare you” way BUT ultra restrained and like appropriate corporate speak style where it’s a “your company is a pack of assholes” but more like…

(Ugh ignore typos!)

Like I’m not kidding when I acknowledge my own ridiculousness here but you can only be treated terribly by someone YOU HAVE PAID before you snap, ya know? 😂 and I snapped.

Well after I hit send, I was like “oh god will beloved coworker think I am fully off my rocker…”

BUTTTTTT I got this lil gem on slack

[togament]

Hi Bibi, i just want to say you’re doing amazing and your post are literally ADDICTING. I was a little worried because I didn’t know if Wind Breaker would get a lot of attention on Tumblr yk? (Just because it’s new) AND YOU CAME AND SAVED ME. I love you, your brain, and your page. Please keep going and I WOULD LOVE to hear your thoughts on new episodes/chapters (only if you want). Thank you for feeding my delulu brain. Hugs 🫂

OH YOU SWEETHEART COME HERE YOU!!!! 🫂 I’M NOT CRYING I SWEAR.

thank you for the kind words dhdjkd i don’t know if i’m worthy of such praise too like—everyone leaving cute (and unhinged ofc) stuff in the tags and in my inbox gets me all giddy and blushy and!!!!!! Seeing you guys enjoying my stupid ramblings means the absolute world to me (i see you guys in the tags and i read every single one. Love you you freaks 😏) fun fact, I only started writing fics on this account and only for windbreaker so all the interactions and thirsty feedback I get genuinely, genuinely makes my heart do the boom boom. So smooches to every one of you!!!!!! (only if you want them. you could exchange it for a headpat if you want ig)

ok enough of the sappy stuff. WINDBREAKER TIME!

windbreaker blowing up on tumblr is so so so well deserved. i was genuinely shocked because it took a little bit for the hype to catch on???? the seiyuus are literal legends (in my eyes hehe), the animation’s SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE HELLO!??, the op and ending song aren’t ass??????? I’m super excited for what’s to come for our fandom and the anime. ALSO fun fact, I have the fattest crush on Umehara Yuichiro so him voicing Togame literally brought me to my god damn knees, bro. I’m expecting Eguchi Takuya to secure a character too bc ofjfkdkd his voice would be perfect for a villain.

also may or may not have picked windbreaker up bc I saw a character named Kiryu and an eyepatched character and I 😮👈😮👈 YAKUZA REFERENCE!!!!! (probably not but the coincidence is silly to me)

I’m not super caught up on the anime (on episode 7 atm!) I wanna savor every episode and binge them back to back (also bc my hubby’s got so much screentime I wanna savor that him EVEN MORE YUM YUM YUMMY). Caught up on the manga though and I Have Thoughts.

(spoilers under the cut)

the endo fight’s scaring me, man. also super fucking worried about ume bc WE HAVEN’T SEEN HIM FOR SO LONG??? the chair throw spooked me. also worried about ume’s vegetable garden. I know it’s getting trampled to shit. also very worried about sakura. he’s getting all banged up by endo, his nose is probably broken now wtf he was bleeding SO MUCH.

chika’s scary too. both him and endo. i honestly don’t know what’s gonna happen next like, they’re both so unpredictable and unhinged that my butthole’s clenching in sheer terror.

I’m also very concerned about suo. WHY HAVE WE NOT SEEN HIM EATING (or maybe I’ve missed a panel lol) but with every food offer he’s ever been given, he turns them down. also the fact that we only know him on a surface’s surface level even when he’s one of the main boys is scaring me. we’re 140+ chapters deep and not one single suo morsel for us to nibble on. I don’t want a betrayal thing happening ok lol that would be my tipping point i fear.

OKAY I WAS RAMBLING TOO MUCH AHDHSHAHHA

if you guys want me to yap about a chapter or an episode or potential seiyuus for other characters or if you just want my thoughts on things (i am a Certified Yapper), i am directing you to the askbox! This was super fun!! Extremely forgetful too so this could help me remember all the stuff that’s happened so far.

thank you so much again for sending over an askkskfnnxnx heaven knows i needed a little pick me up today. you delivered and made my entire day, sweetheart!!!!! Ily!!!!!!! 🥹