#i think i got a few details on the pupil wrong

[ellecdc]

girl girl hear me out YAPPER GF X REGULUS!! Pls pls pls like u could do anything u wanted with them!!! I have a few ideas (take any or none)

May be she just walks up to him one day like clearly wanting to befriend him cuz she has a lil crush and just starts yapping about how the great hall had her fave pastry for breakfast today and he's so confused but also intrigued and then she starts sitting next to him in classes and asking him to hang out at hogsmead and she just yaps and sometimes she thinks may be he zones out but then he'll bring up this super niche detail she mentioned last time like "hey what happened to that quill you forgot in the potions lecture?"

they r already dating and she worries she's too much energy and talk for him and tries to be quiet and he's just like r u sick? R u mad at me? What's wrong u haven't gone on a 30 min description/rant about ur day

3. May be someone else brings up she talks a lot and Reggie defends her?

you guys really love your bubbly/talkative readers with Regulus, don't you? (so do i); thanks for your request!

Regulus Black x yapper!reader who didn't think he was actually listening

p1 | p2

CW: fem!reader, rolling thoughts, brief mention of difficulty making friends, people talking about reader behind her back, swear words (on ellecdc? nooo [sarcasm])

Your family said that you had an incessant need to fill silence from the moment you could talk. 

“If there’s a room with our daughter in it, you can be certain that it won’t be quiet.” Your mum had proclaimed as she beamed at you lovingly one day.

While it was certainly a trait that your family had always found rather endearing, you felt that it made it particularly difficult making friends once you began attending Hogwarts. 

But the friends you managed to make loved you for it, and they had often stated “you can call her what you want but you can’t call her boring.” 

That didn’t mean your other classmates appreciated your stories or tangents, though. 

Which is how you ended up serving numerous detentions for speaking during class or lectures and disturbing the students around you, and how you’d been cycled through numerous seat partners in potions class. 

And that is how poor Regulus Black ended up stuck sharing a worktable with the likes of you.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. And if he did, well, he certainly never said anything about it.

You were quite sure he tuned you out during your rambles, hardly ever sparing you a glance and keeping his eyes trained on his parchment in front of him as he took dutiful notes during lectures.

Couldn’t be you, however.

No.

You were too busy lamenting about the fact that you couldn’t get more than twenty feet to the mooncalf herd up the hill behind the quidditch pitch before they would all run off. They only came out at night, you see, and you wanted to take some photos of them. Some photos turned into midnight picnics, and picnics turned into sharing apple slices by means of throwing them towards the bug-eyed beasts and watching them argue over the slice until you threw another. But even after feeding them forty seven apples and counting at this point (Winky the house elf from the kitchen was not pleased with you), they still wouldn’t let you get any closer to them.

Your next course of action was to try a smellier and higher value treat; you wondered then if mooncalves could have tuna? Tuna was certainly smelly enough. Well, if you couldn’t entice the mooncalves, you’d certainly entice a cat or two. 

You wondered then if mooncalves and cats got along? Kneazles were nearly the same size as the poor beasts, but cats were much smaller. You figured cats would look at a mooncalf the same way they’d look at a goat. 

You’d seen a cat ride a goat once, not many people believed you, though. You’d have to learn how to make a pensieve one day just to prove it to everyone. You didn’t much care for goats, though; something about their square pupils seemed alien to you. 

Which seemed odd considering there were numerous beasts in the magical world that really were quite alien, yet it was  goats that did it for you.

And why were they always associated with the devil? Was it because of the square pupils? Do you think there’d be a book that explained that?

But you didn’t even realise that the period had ended until Regulus stood and collected his books, offering you a curt nod before leaving the classroom. 

Fuck….do you think he’d let you copy his notes? 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Merlin’s tits, she never stops talking! I feel bad for the poor sod stuck next to her; Black probably wants to avada himself every class. You heard a classmate mutter as you walked to your workbench, movements slowed as you lowered yourself into your chair and tried not to let their words hurt you. 

You were used to the comments, you were used to the sentiment honestly; did they think it was easy being you? Did they think you didn’t get tired of listening to yourself too? 

Of course you did, it was exhausting; your brain never stopped moving, and apparently, neither did your mouth.

But it did hurt a little, perhaps because Regulus had been quite gracious about it thus far. He had listened to you carry on about the astrological significance of space waste and how that was affecting the magic of the stars. He had listened to you bemoan about the positive impact that centaur migration had on local flora and fauna and how the fencing of fields and forests was going to cause unimaginable damage to the life cycles of such. He also had listened to your morose mooncalf story and the update the next day that you were able to order cans of tuna via owl to the castle.

And he’d not so much as bat an eye at you.

Certainly he’d have said something to you if you bothered him? 

Although, perhaps this was why Slughorn put him beside you, because he knew Regulus wouldn’t say anything; had Regulus done something to anger Slughorn? Was placing you beside Regulus less about you driving your seat mates crazy, but more about being a punishment for Regulus?

Well, you couldn’t imagine Regulus had done anything bad enough to deserve a full term with you as a potions partner.

No, you decided, you would not be his punishment.

So when Regulus entered class that day, and Slughorn read out the instructions for today’s potion brew, you resisted the urge to speak.

You were quiet when retrieving your potion ingredients, you were quiet as you checked and double checked the brewing instructions, and you were quiet as you waited for the potion to reach its boiling point. 

You actually thought you’d done quite well; you sort of wished you had started a timer, this may very well have been a record for you. 

Well, unless sleeping counted. Would sleeping count as being quiet? Oh gods, what if you talked in your sleep too!? You’d have to ask your roommates.

“L/N.” Regulus called as if it hadn’t been the first time he’d done so. “You alright?” He asked, ducking down in an attempt to meet your gaze as you watched a divot appear between his brows.

“Yeah? Why?” You asked, finding yourself furrowing your brows in solidarity; you found Regulus to be too pretty to look so worried. 

He shrugged his shoulders and straightened up, though the space between his brows remained divoted. “You’ve been awfully quiet, s’all.” He murmured quietly, and you were surprised to see a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You muttered perhaps pointedly; his eyes narrowing to match the furrowed brows. 

“Says who?”

Your eyes traitorously darted to the students who had been discussing your habits, and Regulus followed your gaze.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something in French under his breath as he turned his attention back towards your shared potion. “Those tossers are just mad that they have nothing of value to say.”

You more felt than heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips as you looked at Regulus in bemusement. 

He didn’t seem to notice though, as he continued to the next step in your potion and carried on. “Did the tuna work?”

You stared at him dumbly before your brain kicked back into gear. “I beg your pardon?”

“The tuna.” He repeated. “For the mooncalves?”

Oh.

“Oh.” You started, giving your head a shake as you tried to find your balance you had long lost during this conversation. “Erm, no, but I did indeed attract a few cats.”

“Ah.” Regulus offered, smiling at you (or at the expected poof from the potion signifying that the two of you had brewed it correctly thus far). 

“Also, I found out why goats are often associated with the devil, but the book you’d be looking for is Biblical in nature.”

You stared at him with your mouth agape as he continued. “There’s a quote where that Christ bloke mentions something about separating people from one another just as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. They’re used as a metaphor for the ‘bad’ or ‘inferior’ member of any group; it could also be understood as the divide between the pure and the wicked. I say goats got a bad rap, though.”

The next step in your potion brewing process was to allow the potion to simmer until it turned a milky white colour, so Regulus lowered the heat before appearing to remember something.

“I almost forgot…” He started as he began rooting through his book bag. “I asked the shopkeep at Brood & Peck, and she said this is a favourite of mooncalves; maybe you’ll have more luck tonight?” He asked as he held out a parchment of beast treats to you. 

“You’ve been listening? This whole time?” You whispered in awe as you took the bag delicately as if  he had just handed you a delicate china dish. 

His brows furrowed again as he searched your eyes. “Well…yeah? I’m rather invested now.” He explained just as your potion turned its intended colour. 

“Very good Mr. Black, Miss. L/N.” Professor Slughorn commented as he walked past your workbench. 

You were alerted to the fact that class was over when everyone’s potions were vanished with a pop and students started to pack up their belongings.

“You’ll keep me posted, yeah? About the mooncalves?” Regulus asked as he started walking backwards towards the door. 

“Sure.” You murmured, earning you a wide smile from the notoriously quiet boy. 

Yes… You’d be more than happy to keep Regulus Black posted.

[squinch-depraved]

smoking with ted and he gets all shy bc he likes u so much 🥺👉👈 (another inspired by irl events) i hope u enjoy my first ted fic <3

the two of you finally have a chance to sit down and hang out; there's no work left to do for the day, so you plop down on his couch together and kick your feet up onto his lap. he turns to look at you just in time to see you pull your dab pen out from inside your bra. the sight rouses something in his gut, and he files it away for later as he continues to stare at your chest, screaming at himself mentally to look away but he can't tear his eyes from your tits.

"teddy," you snap your fingers at him, finally getting his attention after several tries at saying his name.

"hmm?" he blinks at you, zoning back in and bringing his gaze back to your smiling face. his own lips perk upwards at the sight of your soft grin.

"wanna smoke?" you ask, twirling the pen between your fingers.

he nods and tries (fails) not to let his eyes slip again in the time it takes for you to take your first hit and pass it to him. he looks away when you start exhaling. something about it is angelic and he can't think about you while he takes this hit, you make his breath unsteady and he can't cough in front of you, that would look stupid! so he fixes his eyes on a poster hanging across the room, running them over every detail while he takes as deep a breath as he can before passing it back to you. the process repeats a few times, and you put on a playlist the two of you have crafted for whenever you have a smoke sesh.

soon, the two of you are laughing, doing impressions and bits on the fly that you would never come up with sober, when you shift so that you're a lot closer to him. his face visibly reddens and he looks around, searching for something else to focus on so he doesn't make himself look like an idiot in front of you. you pick up on this and continue scooting so that you're almost in his lap.

"you okay, ted? got kinda quiet," you say, grabbing his massive hand and fiddling with one of his rings.

"uhm." his voice cracks as he says it and he nods, unable to look at you. you drop his hand and reach for his face in an attempt to make him meet your gaze, and he moans when your fingers graze his jaw. a small, pathetic noise, but still perceived by you. when his hazel eyes meet yours, his pupils are wide and dark.

"ohh, my pretty boy," you coo, climbing fully into his lap and straddling him. he remains looking up at you in pure adoration. "so sweet for me," you kiss against his neck. he whines sharply and tries weakly to push you away. "what's wrong, teddy baby?"

voice breathy and pitchy, he croaks out, "makin' me dizzy," before groaning and leaning his head all the way back. you take the opportunity to kiss more, now using your tongue to draw circles up and down his neck. "is this the stuff we usually smoke?" he asks, hands finding their way to your hips and grinding you down into him. "this shit is really strong."

you laugh and snake your hands up his shirt. "you're so cute, y'know that?"

he grins. "'m glad you think so. been tryin' to make you think that for ages."

you end up riding him as he stares up at you, lost in worship of your beautiful body, and he curses himself for waiting this long to tell you.

[astrophileous]

Thunderstorm

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: Spencer Reid was never a fan of thunderstorms. On one particular night, he woke up to one.

Warning(s): established relationship, mentions and/or depictions of gun violence/injury, protective spencer, parent-child relationships, I think that's it (?) this one is really just fluff wrapped in more fluff 🥰

Word Count: 2400-ish

Author's Note: HELLO! I'm finally back from the dead (yayyy)!! To celebrate, and as we all wait for me to finish rewriting the remaining chapters of love bugs, I'm posting this fic here for you all to enjoy :) I think it's the fluffiest piece I've ever written (srsly, not even a drop of angst!) so I hope you will enjoy! Let me know what you think okkk, don't forget to LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG if you like this one xx btw I'm pretty sure this can be read as gender neutral reader since I'm positive I didn't use any gender-conforming words, but pls lmk if I'm wrong!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Spencer hated thunderstorms.

He had many memories of them, not particularly good ones. Most of them involved him being on the field during yet another atrocious case, gun and flashlight in hand, trekking after muddy footsteps that belonged to an UnSub he was chasing.

He had been shot, once, during a thunderstorm. The bullet lodged itself against his bulletproof vest before the perpetrator had received a retaliation shot from Derek's gun. The vest had saved his life that night. The nasty bruise decorating his torso for the following week, though, served as a sufficient reminder in Spencer's mind.

Thunderstorms were a natural enemy whenever he was on the field. Unfortunately for him, the rivalry seemed to continue past the doorstep of his home, too.

Back when sleep was a luxury that he had to scour and cherish, thunderstorms would be the antagonist that kept the two even further apart. The sound of heavy rain against windows was a line of needles prickling into his circadian rhythm, erasing any possibilities of sleep if he was even lucky enough to have them in the first place.

On those nights, Spencer would sit against the headboard with a book in his lap, hoping that the passage detailing the fall of Joseon Dynasty in Korean Peninsula--or the rise or Majapahit Empire in the island of Java, whichever had caught his interest more at that specific moment in time--would be enough distraction to take his mind off the disaster wreaking havoc outside of his apartment.

Thanks to years of therapy, Spencer now had found it easier to chase sleep whenever he needed it. Still, its sweet relief stood no chance against the chaos brought by a raging thunderstorm.

This time, too, was no different.

Spencer had been dreaming. A land of reverie where his tongue had tasted honey, where his nose had recognized the hint of mint and juniper berry before the image was rattled by a high-pitched shriek in the sky.

When Spencer opened his eyes, the bedroom was enveloped in a near state of total darkness.

The sharp cry he heard had come from a lightning that struck momentarily before he woke up. Five seconds later, another one struck again, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Spencer's body as he waited for the imminent thunder to shatter the atmosphere.

Spencer shut his eyes in an attempt to get his racing heart back under control. Once he opened them again, the remnants of sleep had washed away from his pupils, allowing him to take in the empty bed, the chill bedroom, and the opened door right across from where he was sitting.

Frowning, Spencer thought back to a few hours prior. How he had promptly retired to the bedroom after coming home from work. He remembered clearly--courtesy of his eidetic memory--having slammed the door shut before he got ready for bed.

A creak in the floorboards outside his bedroom door compelled Spencer to reach into the bedside drawer, fingers inching nearer to where the secret holster of his gun was located.

Before his hand could wrap around the weapon, the bedroom door was pushed ajar, revealing a familiar figure standing in the doorway, outline cast by a hazy kind of luminance.

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief. "I thought you were an intruder."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement. A playful smile sweetened by the gentle glow radiating off the flickering candle in your hand.

"It's just me," you assured him, finally stepping into the threshold and placing the candle on top of the dresser.

"I can see that." He watched you approaching, gaze never straying even when you picked up the comforter a tiny bit to slip back into bed. "Where did you go?"

"Went down to check the breaker. Power's out completely, by the way. Looks like the storm took out the whole block."

He made a disapproving face at your response. "You were in the basement? Alone?"

Your forehead furrowed at the tone of Spencer's voice. It wasn't until you glimpsed the telltale sign of worry in his eyes that your shoulders eventually deflated. "I'm okay, Spencer."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because," you began, an amused smile threatening to split your face into two, "it's a three flights of stairs walk from our bedroom, darling. I think I can manage it just fine."

"But--"

"Besides," you cut him off, silencing him with a gentle palm pressing on his cheek. Spencer instantly melted at the contact. "I know how you get during nights like this. I wanted to let you have as much sleep as you could before the storm eventually wakes you up."

His hand circled around your wrist, then, bringing it upwards so that he could leave tiny kisses on your palm before he entwined his fingers with yours. "You still should've woken me up."

"Spence--"

"I know, I know. You could've done it yourself, I don't doubt it. I just--" he paused, swallowing a lump before continuing, "--I could've just waited here. In the bedroom. But in case anything happened, I would've been there for you."

The admission was quiet within the four walls of your bedroom. You knew that Spencer's plea had nothing to do with a toxic need to be controlling. Instead, it had stemmed from the vulnerability within. A naked truth that nestled in the deepest corners of Spencer Reid's soul.

The years that you had spent together allowed you to understand Spencer at a level nobody else could. They allowed you to understand that this silly request was nothing more than a fruit of his vigilant bones, forged consistently throughout his years in law enforcement. Spencer Reid, underneath his soft eyes and tender touches, had witnessed all of the gruesome layers of the world, lost far more things than anyone ever should.

It was only logical, now that Spencer had you in his life--a miraculous reprieve to his otherwise ghastly world--he would spend every waking moment to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

Always.

With this knowledge in mind, you couldn't, in good conscience, bring yourself to deny Spencer's plea, no matter how foolish it might seem.

What you did, instead, was shifting yourself closer to his body, seeking permission with your eyes before you leaned forward for a quick kiss.

"I'm sorry, darling," you offered sincerely. "I'll keep that in mind for next time, yeah? How does that sound?"

The relief was blinding as it washed over Spencer's whole being. "Thank you," he muttered before kissing your knuckles. "And I'm sorry, too, for being like this."

You shook your head firmly. Not because you didn't accept his apology, but because you didn't need one. Spencer didn't have anything to apologize for.

When you told him as much, Spencer's only reply was to press his lips to yours.

You were rendered pliant underneath his ministrations, your body molding into his as if you were two fabrics cut from the same cloth. Spencer poured all of his emotions into the kiss. Wishing--begging--that you could taste just how consuming the love he harbored for you was. The same way he could taste your heart beneath the hint of honey on your lips.

Once breathing became a chore, Spencer took the heavy decision to pull away, settling for resting his forehead on top of yours instead.

"Do you wanna go back to sleep?" you whispered.

Spencer wanted to nod, feeling a huge load pressing on every inch of muscle in his body. But before he could take you up on the offer, a distant sound between the roaring of thunders caught his attention, stopping his words right in their tracks.

"Did you hear that?" Spencer asked.

"Hear what?" You frowned. "The thunder?"

"No." He rushed to get up from the bed, gaze apologetic as he looked at you from the doorway. "Stay here? I'll be back soon."

Soft footsteps trudged along the landing of your two story house, leading Spencer towards another door located right by the stairs. He knocked slowly on the wooden door, twice, before pushing it open with a gentle nudge of his hip.

The room he entered was smaller than the room he shared with you. During the days, the windows on the far end of the wall would offer a mesmerizing view of the creek that ran along the backside of the neighborhood. During nights like this, however, they merely provided another harsh peek at the tantrum that mother nature was throwing against the world.

Although the room was swallowed in darkness, Spencer could still make out the silhouettes inside. From the haphazardly scattered toys on the floor, the colorful drawings taped on the walls, even to the lavender-colored furniture that seemed to fill every available corner in the entire space.

Amongst them all, the one silhouette that managed to pull at Spencer's heartstrings was the one curled up on the center of the bed. A usually joyous sunshine, reduced to a whimpering ball under a cotton unicorn-themed blanket.

"Princess."

Spencer tugged the blanket down, revealing misty eyes and pouting lips on a face he held dearly. A sob managed to wreck itself out of the little girl's chest, plummeting Spencer's heart further down the abyss of no end.

"Oh, sweetheart."

He gathered the 4-year-old in his arms, feeling her immediately hugging his neck. Her body was still shivering with tiny whimpers and sobs, all of which Spencer tried to subside gently by constant strokes down her back.

"It's okay. You're okay," he shushed quietly, rocking his body to a phantom tune while she clung to his chest. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?"

The girl sniffled aloud before lifting her head, her tiny hands rubbing rigorously on the tear stains around her eyes.

"The-the thunders," she murmured. "It was so loud. I woke up and everything was d-dark. Daddy, I'm scared!"

She threw her arms around his neck again, crying softly into the collar of his sleeping shirt. Spencer tightened his embrace around his daughter, heart breaking into pieces with every tear shed from her innocent eyes.

"Sshh, it's alright, princess. Everything's alright. Daddy's here now," Spencer cooed. "Do you wanna sleep with us tonight? Hm?"

His daughter started to nod frantically. "Don't forget Mr. Elphie, Daddy."

Chuckling, Spencer quickly grabbed the elephant stuffed animal lying next to her pillow. "Of course not. Mr. Elphie is coming with us, isn't he?"

Spencer began to retreat back in the direction of your bedroom, all the while conversing with his little girl to keep her mind off the storm that was still raging wildly outside.

You were checking something on your phone by the time Spencer finally returned. Immediately, you tossed the device aside once you saw him, eyes widening in concern when you saw your daughter's limbs entangled around Spencer's form.

"What happened?" you asked.

Spencer headed for the bed, slowly putting down the little girl who instantly cuddled your side after he had tucked her under the duvet.

"The thunders are scary," your daughter mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

Your eyes flicked towards Spencer, who gave a single nod of confirmation before settling back on his side of the bed.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry." You brushed back the hair from her face, taking in the sight of your favorite pair of eyes that seemed to have lost their usual sparkles in the wake of her tears. "What do you wanna do, hun? Should I tell you a story? Play a little music?"

"I wanna sleep here with you and Daddy," she said in a shaky voice. "Is that okay?"

Kissing the crown of her head, you answered, "Of course it's okay, sunshine. Come here."

Your daughter fell back into your awaiting arms. Her small frame fitting so easily into the front side of your body. You watched as her tiny fingers clutched Mr. Elphie tighter, breath evening out while her face burrowed even deeper into your chest.

It felt as if hours had passed before you could find the will to rip your gaze away. In all honesty, you could probably have spent an entire eternity staring at the little miracle in your arms had the universe given you the chance. When you lifted your head, your eyes automatically locked with Spencer's, who looked as if he, too, had been entranced by the sight in front of him.

"She's incredible," Spencer confessed into the night, voice fragile with the weight of awe it seemed to carry. "I can't believe she's ours."

You extended your hand towards him, smiling brightly once Spencer secured it in his own.

"Seems like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," you mused, eyes glinting mischievously from the knowledge that your daughter--just like her beloved Daddy--also had a fear of thunderstorms. "Like father like daughter, huh?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of thunderstorms. I'm just... not fond of them"

"Uh-huh."

"Shut up." He bit your knuckles playfully, seemingly pleased with himself when he managed to elicit a laugh out of your chest. "Go get some sleep. You have an early day tomorrow."

"Speak for yourself, Mister." You settled your head back on the pillow, Spencer mirroring your position without breaking his hold around your hand. "Where are you going again?"

"Florida. Miami."

"Damn," you muttered, temporarily panicking about your terrible choice of words before calming back down once you saw your daughter sleeping soundly. "I bet it's nice there this time of year."

"It's Miami. The weather barely changes there all year-round."

"Exactly my point."

"Besides," Spencer added, squeezing your hand once, "it's not a vacation. It doesn't matter where I'm going, I'll only be seeing dead bodies all day long."

"Okay. I really don't need to start seeing corpses in my head right before going to sleep, so thanks for that."

"You started it."

"I most certainly did not." You scoffed. "I'm not liking this conversation. Now, can we please go to sleep?"

Spencer had a retort ready on the tip of his tongue. But once he saw how peaceful you looked with your eyes closed, entangled as one with your daughter, he decided against it.

At last, he opted to shuffle closer on the bed until he could wrap his arm around the two of you, letting the scent of mint from your shampoo and juniper berry from your daughter's body wash to wrap around his whole being.

Spencer was still not a fan of thunderstorms.

But on nights like this, he had to begrudgingly admit that maybe, maybe, they weren't really that bad after all.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 408: Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain

Previously on BnHA: HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi decides he’s going to cover the rest of the AFO/OFA saga in the span of just seven pages, the majority of which are mostly just filled with lovingly detailed closeups of AFO and Kudou’s eyes. Back in the present day, Kid For One takes a couple of seconds to trample the last of the “Kacchan is OFA II or is related to OFA II” theories into the dust, and is then all “fuck it, I’ll just take him out with one last spectacularly grotesque supermove.” Kacchan is all “lol you fucking dipshit”, and he says it with such confidence that it truly makes me believe he can defeat AFO’s “ALL THE QUIRKS EVER!!” attack with his piddly little exploding bloodsweat quirk. AND IT WILL BE A SIGHT TO SEE.

interesting!

Yoichi’s name btw is written with the kanji 与 which means “bestow” or “give”, and 一 which means “one.” so basically “one who gives”, which is fitting as the creator of OFA, but also fits in with this new context of being the first “possession” bestowed upon AFO

oh yes and also AFO I guess has just torn his brother to shreds or something too. idk. I’m going to be honest with you guys, this panel has such a surreal vibe that I just sat here blinking stupidly at it and wasn’t even shocked or anything. like what. is he dreaming this?? or did he really just make a “STOP! IN THE NAAAAME OF LOVE” gesture and in doing so remove half of his brother’s jaw

ewww

idk what’s wrong with me today guys. AFO just disintegrated Yoichi, and Kudou and and OFA Tres (who apparently still doesn’t have a name???? freaking Kudou got named before you??) are literally RIGHT THERE and presumably horrified, and all I can think about is how fucking gross it is that they’re all hanging out in a fucking sewer

oh shit y’all it’s about to go down

he can’t kill Kudou right off the bat can he? does Kudou even know he has OFA yet? are we going to see him transfer it to OFA III? I’m so fucking excited omg

LOL WHAT

“weirdly matte” omg. so apparently he’s like All Might, where the “he’s just drawn differently” thing is something people actually acknowledge in-story. “yeah he actually has no pupils. that’s a real thing. technically that should mean he can’t see since pupils are what let light into your eyes, but don’t worry about that part. just know that his eyes canonically look weird to the story people as well, and everyone is creeped out by it, not just you”

yeah he’s actually blind

so he literally can’t see outside himself. way to lay those metaphors on thick, Horikoshi

(ETA: this is my “just in case my impeccably dry wit doesn’t translate well across the internet” ETA to assure everyone I know he’s not actually blind lol.)

now we’re cutting to some random city where AFO is broodingly staring at Yoichi’s severed hand because he’s perfected the art of always doing incredibly unsettling things

I cannot believe the fucking hands thing has an actual origin story. of course it does. this man has never done a single hinged thing in his life. it’s all unhinged or bust. am I talking about AFO or Horikoshi? YOU DECIDE

he’s sitting at a table with a bottle of wine holding his dead brother’s embalmed severed limb and thinking about fucking quirk shit

so your transformation from Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain happened almost completely offscreen huh. I’m kinda disappointed, ngl. I could have read a few more chapters about that. maybe a spinoff miniseries

WAIT WHAT

are you serious. we finally get a panel that’s INCREDIBLY RELEVANT to pretty much ALL OF MY BNHA THEORIES, only for that same panel to contradict itself ONE SPEECH BUBBLE LATER?? so what is the truth???

omg omg omg

so many fucking questions, omg. what the hell does “through research” even mean. how did he confirm Yoichi’s quirklessness, and why did he later change his mind? how the fuck can Yoichi have a quirk factor and yet not have an actual quirk. “it was just so weak it didn’t count or something I guess” okay??? how much of this is unreliable narrator vs. the word of god? how is it we’re getting so many answers and yet all I have is more fucking questions you guys

BRUE?CE?CEE??!

bruce

Kudou is so goddamned hot. I hope you washed the hell out of that arm wound after getting it all covered in sewage you stupid sexy man

I can’t get over Three’s name. “idk if anyone noticed, but it’s kind of a subtle homage to another very famous superhero” Horikoshi your nap wasn’t long enough, please go home

also love how Bruce is talking shit about OFA being a puny loser quirk for wimps. how the fuck do they even know what’s going on, anyway? was there a tutorial???

oh you just had a feeling huh??? that it was “something like this”, huh??? how is it that I, who knows all about OFA because I’m from the future and have read 408 chapters of this nonsense, am somehow still less in the know than this handsome clown who doesn’t know shit but just “had a feeling”

(ETA: while editing this post I noted that Bruce is sitting in front of a computer in what seems to be some sort of medical lab, so maybe they ran some tests or something? except that only makes me more confused, because it implies they didn’t actually figure out OFA’s workings via convenient plot instincts. so then how the fuck did they figure out the transfer process?? questions)

meanwhile AFO is sitting in the panel next to him whining about how someone stole Yoichi’s quirk. excuse you. he did not steal it. it was in fact a gift

these flashbacks are all jumbled up and it’s unexpectedly fun to read, but also really chaotic

I guess he’s talking to Kudou on the right and AFO on the left

so many intense closeups of eyes in this chapter oh my goodness

Horikoshi even drew the individual goddamn eyelashes. this looks like the margins of someone’s notebook from when they were really bored in middle school

oh my god the information overload!!!

so much for AFO actually feeling emotions lol. or is he just lying to himself about why he cried. that delicious ambiguity

so we don’t even get a flashback explaining how the transfer actually happened?? to either Kudou OR my beloved Bruce?? goddamn you Horikoshi. omg I would seriously kill for more of this. make a movie about it. I want the OFA origin story prequel movie damn it

I like how AFO just sits there on a throne holding court with a single tiki torch beside him for aesthetic reasons

I can’t quite figure out how he killed Banjou and I’m not sure I really want to know. it looks very violent

friendly reminder that Shinomori is Sir Not Appearing In This Flashback because he’s the only OFA user who died of natural causes! good for you Shinomori. En probably wishes he was more like you

poor En

was Nana just taking a stroll or something one day and stumbled across this epic fight with the evilest man on the planet vs some kid in a trenchcoat, and then the poor kid got bisected and he looked at her and he was all “please eat my hair” and she was just like “ok”?

OH WOW

what a transition omg

LOLLLLLLLL

you know, part of me always wondered how All Might was so certain he’d killed AFO that he apparently never bothered to confirm it. but looking at this panel now, I can understand

fjjfdzjgf

he’s sweating so much. like “okay yeah he punched the top of his face off, this is pretty bad but I’LL DO MY BEST”

BACK TO THE PRESENT DAY AWW SHUCKS

so let’s recap. over on Kacchan’s side we have “GOTTA USE THE PAIN TO WIN!!!” haha ouch. and then over here on KFO’s side we have. whatever the fuck we just experienced over these past two chapters. so basically it’s a battle between the two most deranged characters in the entire series. glorious sweet chaos

DSFJKSLDKGJL he’s now trying to figure out how the fuck they look so much alike and whether they’re actually related

“no, that can’t be it. so then maybe... this kid grows up and then somehow travels back in time...?!” HE’S JUST LIKE US FR

so now he’s saying it’s because Kacchan didn’t have character development yet the last time, but now that he does his eyes are all Full Of Determination just like Kudou’s and so we’ve basically come full circle!

transcended WHAT? :O :D :D omg I’m kidding you guys please don’t hurt me

lol

actually the more we learn about Kudou the less I personally see the resemblance now lol. because Kudou seems so calm and collected, but Kacchan is just... [gestures to literally everything about Kacchan]

so AFO’s trying to strategize, but he can’t warp Kacchan away because the only available targets are too close and he’s still got that SUPERSPEED, BOYO so it wouldn’t make a difference. lol but if you kept doing it repeatedly it might be kind of funny though

and he can’t keep fighting him either because he’s getting his ass whooped and it’s speeding up his de-aging or whatever. well you could just give up then I guess. your call, AFO

oh was that your plan?

spoiler alert for me lol. but it’s not exactly shocking or anything since he’s dying, guess he wants to abandon ship

(ETA: just FYI for anyone reading this who’s not familiar with my dumbassery, I have currently only read chapters 1 through 374 at this point in time, before skipping ahead to 403 because Kacchan came back and I lost all willpower. I am working on catching up with the rest!)

oh so now you did come up with a strategy?

lmao what the FUCK

how much of this is going to be clearer to me once I finish the chapters that I missed, and how much of it is just plain old “nope this is all brand new zero-context BnHA bullshit” lol. this looks like every single quirk AFO ever absorbed combined into one gigantic horrifying blob that forced Horikoshi to take an extra week just to draw it

oh my god!?

Kacchan hovering there bravely facing all this is giving me Gandalf “you shall not pass” vibes and I’m LIVING FOR IT

so either AFO is going to kill Kacchan for the second time right here and now, or he’s going to fail and turn back into a squishy evil baby fdslfjkls

love how All Might is all “DODGE IT YOUNG BAKUGOU!” thanks for the warning, champ. doing his part

more exploding bloodsweat closeups. are these just going to be a mainstay of Kacchan fights from now on

“are you stupid?”, when faced with [gestures to the entirety of the previous page], is possibly the best line ever uttered by anyone in the series. even better than the polite “coming through” uttered only seconds before it

ah man. you love to see it. he literally doesn’t even care. HE ALREADY DIED ONCE TODAY, AND IT CLUED HIM IN TO THE FACT THAT HE’S A MAIN CHARACTER AND ACTUALLY IMMUNE TO DEATH. sorry AFO it’s curtains for you. CURTAINS

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 18: [DDVD] lucifer / lost child

ao3 link

note: reminder: zhao calls ik "a-ke", and i also realised while writing this - in jtta, she's called ik because it's like an anglicised pronunciation of her birth name, but in ddvd they never move to england... i've thus decided that in this au, ik got her nickname from mammon right at the start of the year. that or they all speak chinese and ik is how i, as author, have transliterated her birth name. anyway, this takes place early on in the exchange year

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“Zhao’s upset,” is the first and only thing Satan has said to Lucifer today.

He’ll let his little brother off the hook for being rude, even if only just this once - what he wants to know is what Satan expects him to do about it. Lucifer is a student council officer, not a school therapist, and it is not his responsibility to deal with sad pupils. Even if they live under his roof.

Though it turns out that ‘sad’ is not the correct word for whatever emotional wringer Zhaoxi is currently putting himself through. Lucifer runs into him at the end of the same corridor he’s just passed Satan in, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. Somehow there are shadows under his eyes that weren't there this morning.

He isn’t an expert, by any means - he's only consulted a few textbooks, and since the start of the exchange program most of his human research has been about the tiny ones - but that’s definitely not normal. Surely one school day can’t be that taxing.

“Ahem,” He says loudly as Zhaoxi powers past him with barely a glance in his direction. “Is something wrong?”

Zhaoxi pauses, mutters something very quickly that he doesn’t understand, then turns to run off again. Lucifer catches him by the shoulder before he can disappear around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, more insistently this time. “There are club meetings going on. You’re going to cause a disturbance.”

He mumbles a half-hearted apology and takes off his glasses, as if he doesn’t want to look at him in too much detail. “I can’t find A-Ke.”

“You lost her?” Who misplaces an entire child?

“She learnt how to open the door,” Zhaoxi says a little miserably. “And A-Ke is very quiet. I didn’t realise she left the room.”

Privately, Lucifer can’t fathom how she even reached the handle. He sighs. “...very well. I’ll help you search. We can’t have children running wild around the school.”

Zhaoxi blinks, then abruptly shoves his glasses back on. Behind them, his eyes are possibly the brightest thing Lucifer has ever seen. “You will?!”

No one else has even offered? He thinks, and makes a note to perhaps suggest to Diavolo that they remind the student body of the concept of compassion. (He has a feeling it wouldn’t be very welcomingly received, though.)

“I know most of the popular hiding spots,” He says. “In the meantime, you should consult someone from the Newspaper Club. They tend to know what’s happening around the school before even the demon it’s happening to.”

“You aren’t busy?” Zhaoxi asks anxiously.

“I'm only doing routine checks.” He glances at his half-complete inventory sheet, then sends the clipboard away with quick spell. “It can wait. The school won’t explode if I miss one day.”

He gives him directions to the Newspaper Club’s usual classroom, and Zhaoxi thanks him with what was probably supposed to be a earnest handshake, but delivered with such little force that it felt more like he was just having his hand held. Lucifer pauses to think about that for a moment, then very abruptly turns on his heel and makes for the library.

Zhaoxi’s daughter is not hiding in any of the gaps between the bookshelves, nor is she under any of the tables. Lucifer thinks about checking the canteen next, then finally realises just how gargantuan this task really is.

Yes, he knows the common hiding spots - of full-grown demons. Human children have far more options.

He heaves a sigh and drags a hand down his face. This is exactly the sort of situation he’d predicted, back at the start of the exchange year. The whole scene is practically seared into his memory…

He’d stood up just as the summoning spell ran its course, leaving the new arrival shivering in the middle of the circle. Diavolo had stepped forward with widespread arms. “Welcome to the Devildom! You— oh, that’s a baby.”

Satan had promptly dropped behind the table with a silent cackle. After a moment, Zhaoxi, trembling as if standing out in a blizzard, said in a tiny voice, “She’s three soon.”

Lucifer had gone through the full rehearsed explanation, trying very hard to ignore the tiny thing with giant eyes watching him intently throughout. And he’d succeeded in hiding just how perturbed he was - up until everyone else had left the council room.

“We need to talk about that exchange student,” He’d told Diavolo sternly.

“Zhaoxi? I thought he was quite pleasant. I’m sure he’ll settle in just fine.”

“Were you paying any attention? He looked as if you had a sword to his throat. He has a child. How do you expect him to cope?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Diavolo had said without dropping his smile in the slightest. “Human children are fascinating, aren’t they?”

“It’s miniscule.”

“Don’t be rude, Lucifer. Besides, we’ve welcomed him already - it hardly seems right to send him away now.”

“The child is barely bigger than your head.” It was hard to stop thinking about. He didn’t think something the same shape as a demon could get that small.

“Come now, that’s exaggerating. Besides, she’ll grow! Eventually… I think.”

It would be convenient if she could grow up NOW, Lucifer thinks now, aggravated, poking his head into a fifteenth classroom and beginning to wish he’d just taken a different corridor an hour ago. But a job taken is a job to be done, and he is nothing if not thorough. Onto the next.

…anyway, it’d reflect poorly on him - and the council as a whole - if the situation wasn’t resolved. He continues, apparently with enough grim focus on his face that the usual suspects don’t even attempt to bother him.

He’s on the verge of actually calling Solomon for help - banking on some kind of human-human sixth sense that only sorcerers can tap into, which he’s about half-sure could exist. He’s thinking so hard about how much he doesn’t want to resort to that he almost misses his breakthrough.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. The sound is incessant, but quiet enough that anyone making any noise in the corridor wouldn’t be able to hear it. He hovers on the spot for a moment, listening intently, then follows the sound around the corner, to one of the Potions supply rooms.

Thunk, thunk— thunk! It speeds up as he approaches the door - hearing his footsteps, perhaps. ThunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthUNKTHUNKTHUNK!

He sees what’s happened here. All of the supply rooms lock as soon as they’re closed, for security reasons - only the faculty and certain senior students know the charm to open them. If someone were to toddle in after some irresponsible demon had left the door ajar, only for their movement to make it close, they’d be trapped inside.

With a deep sigh, he presses his hand to the metal plate where a doorknob would usually be, and mutters an incantation. The door swings open.

There’s a brief silence. Then IK zooms out of the door, and very determinedly latches onto his leg.

“Wh—” He stiffens, then does his best impression of a tree. “...hey. I’m not your father.”

IK doesn’t respond. If anything, her grip tightens.

“Oi.” He lifts his leg. No dice. IK clutches on, crushing the fabric of his trousers (he just ironed them yesterday) in her tiny fists. He quickly returns his foot to the ground, a little worried about the integrity of his belt.

He knows better than to do so, but asks anyway, “Have you been in there this whole time?”

IK, of course, does not reply. IK does not speak to anyone apart from her father. (Either that, or Zhaoxi is capable of producing that tiny voice, and only does so when he's alone.)

Lucifer attempts to take a step. IK doesn’t let go, but she closes her eyes tight and allows herself to be dragged along. Her grip is surprisingly fierce - if only his brothers approached their duties with the same dedication.

He makes it about halfway down the corridor when he finally decides that, even for him, this is a bit too callous. The little human’s face is beginning to darken with the strain of holding on so tight.

“...alright.” He comes to a halt. “Don’t expect this to become a regular thing. Come here.”

He bends down and extends his hands. After a moment, IK opens her eyes and blinks at him owlishly.

“You know how to do this, don’t you?” He asks, and makes an effort to offer a friendly smile.

Somehow, it works. After another long moment, IK unwinds her arms, then reaches up for him.

…it feels more like he’s picking up a particularly robust toy than a living thing. Like when he has to clean up Levi’s room (because no one wants to do the chores around here, and it’s a bad sign when his floor isn’t visible under all the debris), and he has to move one of those branded plushies that he spends far too much Grimm on.

“This is why you shouldn’t go wandering around on your own,” He says sternly as he continues on his way down the hall. “You’re lucky I heard you, or you might have been stuck in there all night. Is that what you want?”

IK hums - which is the most sound she ever makes in his presence - and taps idly at his school badge. He lets her, hoping silently that he’ll run back into Zhaoxi soon. If only he hadn’t left his phone in the council room.

“You are two.” He decides to continue as he walks. “That is too young to be going off on your own business. And the R.A.D. is dangerous - some demon might see you as a very convenient snack. Next time, tell someone, and they can accompany you, and don’t worry your father like that again...”

It’s unusual to have such someone listen to one of his lectures without interrupting. He’s almost enjoying himself. He wonders how many words IK knows.

“You’re supposed to be engaging in play behaviours at this age,” He says aloud, thinking of the most recent book he consulted. “Asking questions. Learning to count. What do you even do with your free time? I can’t imagine your hands are large enough to play with anything down here.”

IK is two and does not know how to respond, if she’s even listening. She leans back a little, peers curiously up into his face - then reaches up and attempts to stick her hand in his mouth.

“Pf—” He jerks backwards, then pushes it away with a firm, “No, we don’t do that. That’s rude.”

IK tilts her head at him, then makes a grab for his nose instead. When Lucifer ducks away again, she quickly shoots for his exposed left ear. He expects himself to get angry, but he just ends up begrudgingly engaging in the game.

This is new. IK is an oddly serious two-year-old, and so far Lucifer has only seen her willingly play with Simeon.

Which is am improvement, perhaps - Simeon is a good-natured angel, and he’s always had a way with the younger fledglings. Lucifer, on the other hand, has a scary resting face and an even scarier frown, and has made more than one grown demon cry without even really trying to. He's almost proud of the step-up in bravery.

Hmm. This human has very different developmental milestones to the ones he’s read about.

It doesn’t weigh on his mind for long - soon after that, Lucifer finds Zhaoxi standing helplessly outside an empty classroom (apparently he hadn’t even found the Newspaper Club), and hands IK off to her father, reminding him to be more vigilant next time. Then he walks them home, retreats to his office, and soon the ordeal leaves his mind entirely.

And that could have been the end of that, but it is not. The next morning, Lucifer walks into the dining room, and is promptly met by unsteady footsteps, then the already-familiar weight of something crashing into and clinging to his leg.

“Hello,” He says, and is too tired to put up any fight. He leans down and allows IK to practically clamber up into his arms. At the table, Zhaoxi freezes mid-apology.

The room falls dead silent. Levi and Mammon look at him, then each other, then him again.

Satan regards him with what can only be described as revulsion. A piece of food slides off Beel’s suspended fork.

“...hi,” IK mumbles into his collar. Somehow it makes the looks on his brothers’ faces unimportant in comparison.

[freezinglemur]

"Is this what you want to be?! A destructive toy to be used by others…—?"

(A semi-sequel to This Post in a sense I guess; @lieutenant-fred sorry more of your fella wasn't drawn I was strugglin to find much recent stuff to work off of so I hope this is alright </3)

[Writing below the cut]

“Why are you doing this? I haven’t even done anything to you—” Seedenal’s voice was almost pleading, yet had a sternness about it as xe gazed down at xir attacker.

“I have.. Orders..” the carrot hissed, bracing themself against the rock somewhat with a glare towards the pomegranate.

If they could even…call what was in front of it a pomegranate anymore. Seedenal had been a strange one to the augmented vegetable upon first glance: very tall, odd wing appendages, strange limbs, far more eyes than any normal fruit had on other limbs, among many other things—but now xe was even more of an anomaly.

In addition to the large pair of proper flight-worthy wings the angel dressed in green had unfurled, several more black, spindly arms had joined the original two, and their body now sported runes the carrot angel knew were not there previously.

On top of that, when Karl had attacked, several more eyes had opened upon the wings, and many of Seedenal’s scleras had turned black with glowing white pupils. One of the more frightening details was the luminous arm that formed, along with the sword seemingly held by it, from the place where the pomegranate’s previously missing arm had been. It was so bright it was hard to look at, and the energy it emitted was almost unbearable to be close to.

Several of the pomegranate angel’s eyes were dripping a black, ichor-like substance, but it didn’t appear to be from crying—rather, it dripped like sap. In fact, it seemed whatever holy power they wielded was barely being contained in the fruit’s body. Neither angel paid it too much mind in the moment, however.

“You aren’t even a lemon either, and yet you’re trying to murder me!” Seedenal knew very few details of the war that was going on in truth, but the carrot had mentioned lemons previously before they’d gotten into this tussle, so xe ran with it. 

The carrot glared as it tried to pull together some sort of retaliation, attempting to stand with metallic clanks and whirrs while the other babbled.

“Is this what you want to be?!” the pomegranate’s voice lowered slightly after its initial shout, “A destructive toy to be used by others…—?”

Karl paused its attempt to rise from the ground, staring at Seedenal. The fruit couldn’t tell entirely if the vegetable was offended by their statement or simply caught off guard, but upon hearing no comment, xe continued.

“I.. I don’t know what I am, nor.. Where I came from or what is wrong with me, but I…know I was designed to be a weapon of sorts,” the angel fidgeted with some of xir hands. “I was designed for war—to hurt and kill and all that visceral junk, but…I don’t want to be that. I w-want to see the stars and play in snow and catch butterflies and pick flowers—! I want to think and do for myself..”

Seedenal didn’t like the thought of war. It was like a petty squabble, but more violent and deadly. Leaders throwing lives at each other just to see who was better, or who got what. So many of those lives didn’t deserve such fates—xe was sure of it, just from the small few they’d met or helped in passing. They almost wanted to end the war themself, but shoved the concept away—their mind is wandering again. Shaking their head and remaining thoughts away, the pomegranate looks back to the mechanized angel, lowering xir weapon.

“Wouldn’t you…also prefer to make your own choices and live a little, too..?”

"...."

A gentle breeze blows past the two brightly colored angels in the glistening snow. One must wonder if the mechanical superweapon dreams of chasing snowflakes instead, too.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Thinking about Sephiroth and Aerith being siblings and they have escaped Shinra together (Ifalna still couldn't make her way out with them, sadly), Aerith still joins the gang to overthrow Shinra but Sephiroth doesn't really participate in it, he lets Aerith make her own decision but it doesn't mean he will go along with it. The Avalanche only knows some bits about Aerith's older brother, the man is almost like a shadow, he isn't keen on conversating, prefers to be left alone and watch people, he lets Aerith do the talking and blends into the background perfectly, which is quite a feat considering that Sephiroth is even taller than Barret. Tifa once joked that Sephiroth is like Aerith's family cat, a 6'7' cat but nonetheless, a cat.

At least that was their impression of the silver-haired man until "Aerith" got captured by Hojo.

--o--

When Hojo finished his monologue, he noticed that his today's audience was a bit strange.

He expected the half-Cetra to be angry, to be disgusted, outraged by his mention of her deceased mother in such a vulgar way, but the said girl just sitting there, smiling pleasantly at him, there was a hint of amusement at the corner of her almond eyes during his earlier monologue.

It is almost like the girl is mocking him.

"I remember you used to be more talkative than this, dear. I guess that Spiecemen-S does rub a few of his good antics on you."

The atmosphere hung over the lab immediately changed at the mention of his other escaped work, it became more eerily. The girl still has a pleasant smile on her beautiful face, but it looks somewhat... wider, perhaps it was due to the lack of light in this lab?

"I don't know that, professor." Finally, he got her first reaction of the day, her voice was soft. "... I think it goes the other way, Aerith has her way of changing people."

She slowly rose from the wooden stool and walked toward him, green eyes fixed on him like how a predator observing their meal. Upon close look, she truly is a spitting image of Ifalna. Aside from the obvious similarities shared between them like the delicate features and the earthly green eyes, Aerith possessed even the smallest creak on Ifalna's face. Hojo remembers every single detail of his work, he can firmly say that not a single trace of Gast can be seen on Aerith's appearance, which is not true because he knows that the girl has her father's eyes.

All in all, it's uncanny to look at her.

"What's wrong, professor? Cat got your tongue?" She burst into a small fit of giggles at her own joke, hands clasped behind her back as she bent down slightly to look directly at his eyes. Was she always this tall? Hojo can't help but question himself that.

"As much as it entertains me to listen to your delusional monologue, I think it's time for us to end this conversation."

No longer the earthly green eyes that comfort any tired soul it glimpsed itself at, her eyes now possessed the bright mako-green color, staring unnaturally at Hojo and Hojo alone.

Slitted pupils tracing the mad scientist's movement, the girl- no, the creature purred deeply at him.

"Good to see you, Father."

(Yeah for anyone who is confused, the Aerith that got captured is actually Sephiroth lol. I got inspired by the scene where Sephiroth turns into Tifa to trick Cloud.)

*gnawing at the bars of my enclosure* ASDFGHJK I LOVE THIS

[kiwisleepy]

HELLO good morning or night where ever you are but!! I love nsr and all the crazy designs people come up with, so I wanted to throw my hat in the ring with a few questions!

-Since Apollinare conducts with the "stars" and such, does that mean he's got a good relationship with DJSS or a bad one? I can't imagine that they're REALLY the stars but also....if DJSS can grow to the size of a skyscraper and also create an event horizon by cracking his head then maybe they really ARE the stars!!

-Also also, if they don't get along, is it just entirely on DJSS's part or is it mutual? You wrote that Apollinare was a polite fellow, and Nova is a..pretty egotistical guy, so I can easily see him getting territorial over his "brand" but I could be entirely wrong!!

-Last thing but, Ratio also, seems to be space themed! Do those 2 ocs have any relation to each other, or is it just a favorite theme of yours? No judgement here, space is a wonderful thing! But also, in her art, she's got a little Sayu on her head, so does that mean the two artists are really close or was that just a cute detail you wanted to add?

I hope this wasn't too overwhelming, but nsr ocs are such a treat for me to see, because you can really make anything you want in a way, and it's always great seeing more love for the game!

HI AND I'M SORRY THAT I TOOK SO LONG TO GET READY AND ANSWER AHHHHHH

Apollinare is a star, but its head does not consist of gas, but of a crystalline base (more precisely, only the head, the body is organic). By the way, he can not only control the stars, but also feel them. There are disadvantages to this, because he can feel the explosion of a star, and if it does not affect him, it will definitely distract him.

Poor bby let him sleep

He WOULD HAVE A GOOD RELATIONSHIP WITH THE DJ, IF NOT FOR ONE SMALL ISSUE THAT SPOILS EVERYTHING (in fact, there are many reasons and the "hostility" comes only from the DJ). This is not even a battle for the brand, since Apollinare never express desire to join NSR, not because he dislike them, no, the reason why, he already has so much to do: To maintain the opera house, his parents' mansion, while they are away, all the maids and butlers, their salary, train ballet dancers, his orchestra - he doesn't need additional duty in the form of District.

THE REASON WHY THEY(Only DJ actually, it's not mutual) DONT GET ALONG IS...... that he can conduct the stars. Imagine: You are a DJ, come home after you gave a concert and interacted with these P*lutonians, you decided to look through your telescope, admire the sky, make your scientific notes there and then

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

All the stars in the sky are twitching in a cartoon disgusting way, or vice versa, smoothly, but still too fast, with the risk of colliding and exploding.

And you know who's to blame

This

Starhead

Asshole

Decided to practice his Vivaldi or whoever in the starry sky again, disturbing the order!

And then......

.....Bro got so mad that he sent a live message through 3 DISTRICTS HELP(Apollinare lives in Natura)

Temptation to show middle finger to this conductor is high.

The reason for disliking number 2

Gifts

Apollinare is a person of a different upbringing, so he doesn't see the problem in giving a magnificent bouquet as a sign of appreciation(He often gaining them after his performances)

......But some people see (But if he sponsored the launch of a satellite, it would be a different matter)

You think nothing else can get worse for DJ? ha! You're wrong! Once Apollinare asked one of his ballet pupils what kind of bouquet he could gift, listing the flowers and their meaning..... And they jokingly offered to gift food bouqet.

Apollinare did not understand the joke and SEARCHED "CREATING FOOD BOUQUET SERVICE" ON THE INTERNET, ORDERED IT AND GIFTED A BOUQUET OF ICE DODO POPS, HELP, THIS GUY.....

(Y'all, admit you envy Subatomic right now)

Subatomic could refused, but..... Do you really think that he would refuse such a bouquet? Even if an enemy gave him this one, he wouldn't have the heart to throw it away.

Remember, I said that the main reason for dislike is that Apollinare wreaked havoc in the night sky? Forget AND BEHOLD: TRUE REASON TO DISLIKE APOLLO

.

.

.

.

.

Height

Even if Apollinare takes off his shoes and the DJ stays in his and does not take off his hood, the conductor will remain taller.(But I'm a lazy ass and forgot to redraw Pollo, he's head so tiny there😭😭😭)

(I swear, he is higher)

As a result, Apollinare unknowingly stole everything from him: His space(thankfully not personal), his height, his bitches.

NEVERTHELESS, Apollinare never cease to admire the DJ's music and theme, and although he still cannot get to any of his live concerts (Work does not spare poor Pollo ;-;), he enjoys watching streams recorded by other people.

NOW ABOUT RATIO

Ratio isn't related to Apollinare, however, he also admires her, although her theme includes not only space(but mainly). She has a cute, cartoonish, soulful vibes, like in "Bee and Puppycat." (She even speaks like PC when she is wearing a helmet)

In the mentioned art, Sayu was drawn as a cute detail, Ratio herself is not close to any EDM megastars(she afraid of them all), nevertheless, these two like to chatting online sometimes (this is the one and only method of communication that does not make Ratio panic)

Ratio also chatting a bit with Eloni, Eve(suprisingly huh???) and Tatiana (Ratio chatting with Tati more about business things or asking for help//advice)

I HOPE I ANSWERED EVERYTHING CLEARLY AND THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR SO MANY QUESTIONS, I'M OVERWHELMED IN A GOOD WAY AHAHAHAHAHAH *Dead*

[daz4i]

while ratio being Just Some Guy is most likely the case and fits him narratively, i do love the hc/theory that he's not quite human (either smth supernatural or just a different humanoid species. tho i obviously enjoy the first one more)

1. there's smth abt a character constantly reminding you, the viewer, that they are one thing only to be revealed as the opposite. so like him constantly reminding you that he's just a regular mundane human with nothing special about him can come off as sus

1a. i will say tho. playing it straight and not revealing anything ever beyond showing that he's just an extremely weird and eccentric human is funny

1b. that being said!!! my favorite take on that is that he's not human but wants to be one so bad bc he loves humanity. bc that's so cute and another trope i love. that's why i don't like theories abt him *becoming* not human bc it seems even more antithetical to who he is as a character

2. it'll explain some weird little details abt him that don't quite make sense for a normal human. bc like. i get that he's very smart but on a practical level, achieving the things he has should be impossible in what is likely a short time frame

2a. most recent example i can think of is him sending tb a file that takes "just one amber era" to read, which, from what i gathered, is about couple of years. so he compiled all this information while also working on the divergent universe while on a mission in penacony. and if these first 2 things took him a few years then he did them while developing weapons and curing space cancer and writing whatever he did to get him his phds (so like, a few book-length theses probably) which was probably already a few years ago by the time we meet him, and he's supposedly very young for someone with his achievements so probably in his early 30s at most. idk how to find this post rn but someone calculated that he has either been teaching for 10 or more years by now (which. let me remind you. he started *after* getting his 8th phd) or that he taught like. an insane amount of courses every year to reach the number he did. supposedly while also working for the guild + developing all these aforementioned things + doing his own research like what he's been doing on the space station. does he ever sleep. how is he in such a good shape and able to preach about health when it's like physically impossible to do all that within such a short timespan. even if you've got a genius brain like that's just too much going on at once

2b. sorry that last point was so long. this one is shorter bc it's abt smaller examples, like him disappearing abnormally fast while talking with aventurine, or this little fourth wall break of him referring to himself as a supporting character. floating on some invisible chair might be an imaginary powers thingie so i'll let that slide but he's on thin ice

2c. all the little implications that he's old. like OLD old. his recommendation letter being described as yellowed paper. that one occurrence in gold and gears that mentions him, despite occuring around 2000 years ago

3. why do his eyes glow. why are his pupils cat-like. i get that it's for aesthetic reasons probably but it's still goddamn weird especially the pupils bc iirc there is at least SOME explanation for why other hsr characters have weird eyes, but nothing about him.

(i totally used this numbering format wrong huh. forgive me it is 2 am i'm typing this bc i couldn't sleep. btw while i'm at it lemme apologize for all the grammar errors and missing words and such that are all totally there only bc of how tired i am and no other reason whatsoever)

there are, however, contradictions to the theory of course

as already mentioned, it kinda goes against his Point as a character in the story. like he SHOULD be normal that's why he's the foil for the geniuses

speaking of. if he is something beyond human, why seek the recognition of nous? if he's some powerful and possibly immortal being, why would that matter for him enough to try?

there's probably more i'm forgetting now but lbr it's mostly that first point lol.

ok so establishing all that. what even IS he?

option 1: immortal, over 2000 years old

boring. i don't like it. but i gotta acknowledge it bc as things stand it's probably the most likely one...? (other than him being Just Some Guy lol)

so there's everything i mentioned abt his achievements not making any sense in the timeframe he was likely alive, as well as the intelligentsia guild occurrence that mentions him

i don't like it bc it kind of implies that his main achievements were coined thousands of years ago. iirc he was invited to the guild *after* he achieved those. so did he only teach 50ish classes and didn't get any more phds over the span of 2000 years?? (it's possible we just don't have that information but. given how abnormally exceptional he is. why leave his other work out? he already doesn't seem humanly possible so. what's the harm in going further? will add a comedic effect to it too at some point)

also it's basic. boo

option 2: aha emanator

worm theory go brrr (i can't embed the link on mobile unfortunately but i can dm it or leave it in the replies if anyone needs it 🫡)

worm stuff aside tho. the fourth wall break and things just generally being Weird and so damn silly about him. his bust can count as a mask. aha having an owl symbol on the same side as the shoulder he has his owl symbol on. his eyes having aha's color scheme. we don't know quite what powers aha gives their followers afaik, but like the disappearing quickly thing is smth sampo does too, for example, and we know that he's a follower of aha. so who's to say all the other weird things about him are aha's work too?

there's the question on if he is like, an unwilling emanator that aha forced powers onto, or that possibly he is like zhongshan and just pulling an insane bluff

(given that the only times we see him sow chaos it is for a very clear purpose that has nothing to do with joy, i lean more towards the first)

also he embodies elation for me bc every time i see him i'm elated. is this anything

option 3: literally anything else man idk the hsr universe is so big every 2 patches we get a whole new faction or planet mentioned so who knows what else can be out there

possibly making him just go. very fast. he has lived [insert normal amount of years] but experienced much more in them than a normal human would

possibly having some powers like. fuck idk man. freezing time?

possibly able to split himself into multiple beings? (would certainly add a layer to his statues and especially the way they were presented in his trailer)

option 4: stealing that one straight from my fav fic actually (once again can't embed a link but it's "what do you want" by The_smallest_chibi on ao3!) but also altering it a little. something happened that caused him to *lose* his humanity, but he is trying to cling back to it. so he's possibly only slightly older than he seems but like this allows him to do things normal humans can't or go through life without needing things that normal people might, like food sleep etc.

i don't think it's very likely for the actual game i just wanted to tell you to go read this fic it's really good 👍

this is all i have for you now. i might repost (and this time tag) this later in a more organized and hopefully less rambling way with all necessary links and screenshots maybe. but don't count on that too much :P

[csa-survivor-confessions]

(?)

Warning: long. If replying is too exhausting, feel free to ignore this <3 I understand it dw

It's been years and I (f19) still can't talk or think about it for longer times without shaking. I've told quite a few peopleby now and sharing feels good but I wish I could take it back. I hate that I no longer have control about my memories once I've shared them. I am already shaking rn and I want to get over it. I feel my gaze kind of zonig out? Like my pupils are focused on a point that doesn't necessarily exist and everything else fades. People walk behind me or I make eye contact with someone and I suddenly hyperfocus on everything around me, I guess I'd call it episodic hypervigilance but I think that's a ptsd term and I don't want to take that away from them? Like how people use trigger so liberally, I don't want to contribute to taking terms and estranging them from their meaning.

I feel so guilty for constantly thinking people will hurt me if they hug me for a second too long or comment on my outfit or sth. In addition, I've found myself in a fwb situation 1.5 years ago (we were 17 and 19 back then which is legal) where she choked me without asking before. Which was fine because I probably mentioned that I was into that in casual convo before and we were drunk but I was so confused that she didn't ask. I was into it but it bothered me. And after that, I just needed proof that she wanted to assault me. Which isn't fair to her. Like, she wanted to try sth once and I said no and then we had sex later and she asked again while we were having sex and in that situation I couldn't bring myself to refuse. During sex eye contact and talking is difficult for me but I haven't explicitly communicated that to her. She would have definitely accepted a no btw. And I just found myself getting rly drunk on purpose to see if she would have sex with me anyway etc. and it's so messed up and I feel awful for it. There was also another time I explicitlysaid I wasn'tgoing to have sex with her that day and she tried to initiate it like two times anyway and I very clearly said no. After that she got it and I even teased her back because a part of me wanted her to try again, to hurt me and ignore my boundaries I ended the fwb thing eventually and didn't have sex since then, not even with my bf. I kinda think I don't want to? And I definitely don't want to be cruel by just thinking they're going to hurt me. I feel awful. She didn't do anything wrong, I'm so unfair.

Things have been better until recently. I'm trying so hard to just get over it. I go weeks without really thinking about it and then suddenly I remember when I was 15 and he 22 and we talked about moving in together once I start Uni. And I wonder how things would have been if I had stated with him. Sometimes I want to text him but it's gotten a lot better & less frequent. I'm still shaking.

I have had so many nightmares that I don't wake up anymore. I usually don't remember them. When I dream journal or sth I start remembering my dreams and usually they at least have bad elements and have included sa a lot, including me sa'ing other people younger than me and I hate myself for it even if I know it's just my fear.

I haven't had those in like two years though which is amazing. Atm I never remember my dreams and I'm so glad because I don't want to but I'm also so curious?

My memory too. It is foggy and I want to know what happened to me in more detail. But this is getting way too long, sorry :( I guess I'm worried I'm an awful person and I'd just like to be okay again and idk what to do. I feel like I'm too hurt considering it was nccsa and digital. I simultaneously feel like I'm not hurt enough because I have no trauma disorders or sth so maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing. Trauma is confusing and I hate it.

Hello,

It sounds like you are experiencing a lot of trauma responses. Dissociation, hypervigilance, toxic shame, difficulty communicating, body memories and relationship difficulties are all related to trauma responses.

Whether your psychiatrist/therapist/social worker diagnosed you with them or not. Not meeting the criteria for PTSD doesn't mean no trauma responses are happening. Personally, I might look for a provider who is more trauma-informed if this is something possible for you who might still work on your trauma story even if you don't meet PTSD criteria.

The idea that sharing the specifics of your trauma always makes you feel better is false. Being unable to talk about it without activation and feeling stressed is perfectly normal. And you can't make yourself feel it or not, it's a sign that you are having body memories.

Our bodies will react to the talking about the abuse and cause you to have things like shaking, having a dissociative response (vision changes), and yes hypervigilance. Hypervigilance doesn't only happen if you meet PTSD criteria and it very much sounds like that is what you could be experiencing. No one owns terms like dissociation, triggered or hypervigilance. Using terms incorrectly and or as a joke is when it hurts survivors and you are not doing that so you are not taking anything from anyone.

Someone choking you sexually, without explicit ongoing consent is assault. Talking about something outside of the situation and causally is not consent. Liking a sexual act when it's consented to do and talked about before, but not when it wasn't agreed to thoroughly makes sense. 

Many kink communities wouldn't even have been fine with you being there because you were seventeen. This situation was not you distrusting someone for no reason. What she did is wrong.

It also sounds like there were barriers to you fully enjoying the act, which makes sense in the context of having past sexual trauma and it sounds like you haven't fully talked through what is and isn't wanted in sexual situations. And you struggling with that makes sense, yes it can be good to talk but you're not at fault for having trauma responses during sexual acts.

I understand that things were somewhat better between you, but it does sound like you were not acting healthy. Getting drunk to try and pursue sex is definitely unhealthy behaviour, trying testing people to see what they will do is definitely harmful. It is something to be aware of and trying to get better is important. However, it doesn't make you a bad person as you are working to be better. 

Her trying to convince you to have sex after an explicit no, even if it was "only" two times is not good behaviour. I understand there was some trauma playing up and feeling like you need to be/deserve to be hurt. Her behaviour isn't then okay and you were having trauma responses. 

You are not being unfair, you were hurt in this relationship and being upset about that is normal.

Having memory issues and nightmares are both classic trauma responses. Dissociation can affect memory recall during trauma and nightmares about trauma or trauma-related content are common experiences for trauma survivors. Not being sure if you wished you remembered or not is a very common abuse survivor experience. 

Wondering what would have happened if you had taken other actions is just something common to people in general. That doesn't mean anything other than you're a person.

You can't brute force yourself better. I'm glad you have had periods of being less affected! Working on handling your trauma and working through these hard emotions can move forward to not have these episodes of worse trauma responses as well.

You are not a bad person, your pain is valid, and you deserve help and people to hold your story.

Be Blessed,

-Admin 2

[steelbluehome]

"Stan signed on years before financing came together . . .“It was a long, arduous process, and to be honest, I just didn’t know if I could do it,”

"It’s such a risky role, and Sebastian is fearless. He just did whatever he had to do to become this person.” - Gabriel Sherman, writer

Vanity Fair

In The Apprentice, Sebastian Stan and Jeremy Strong Peer Into the Dark Heart of Donald Trump (click for article)

Before Trump was Trump, he was a young striver taken under the wing of Roy Cohn. The Apprentice dramatizes their sinister bond: “I think of it as a love story, really,” Strong tells Vanity Fair.

BY DAVID CANFIELD

MAY 16, 2024

After he was cast as Roy Cohn in The Apprentice, Jeremy Strong dove in head first—as he tends to do. The Emmy winner devoured books about the ruthless fixer, watched and read his many colorful interviews, and even listened to raw tapes from a lauded Esquire profile to perfect Cohn’s vocal patterns. He went method on the set—all the better to ad-lib opposite Sebastian Stan’s Donald Trump as the actors traced the nefarious bond that came to shape a city, and maybe a nation. “We did a lot of improvising, which in this case had to be deeply informed,” Strong says. “We had a lot of latitude and freedom to play and take chances.”

All in all, Strong was following his usual process. Yet The Apprentice felt different—unusually difficult to shake off. “I’d go home by myself to the hotel room, and the real-world ramifications of the things that I was espousing and inculcating in Donald Trump really, really shook me,” Strong tells me. “It was a disturbing, upsetting place to be—that heart of darkness.”

Director Ali Abbasi plunges us right into that space in The Apprentice (premiering Monday at the Cannes Film Festival 2024), his provocative examination of the ways Cohn shaped Trump into the infamous politician he would become. But the last thing Abbasi wanted to make was a polemical, election-year warning. The Iranian-born director, best known for critical successes Border and Holy Spider, instead fashioned a gritty, ’70s-New-York-set indie thriller, bringing an outsider’s perspective to iconic—and in many corners, despised—American figures and contextualizing them through a kinetic cinematic lens.

“We wanted to do a punk rock version of a historical movie, which meant that we needed to keep a certain energy, a certain spirit—[not] get too anal about details and what’s right and what’s wrong,” Abbasi says. “America is a country…but it’s also an empire. I was more preoccupied with the empire part of it. For whoever has lived in the Middle East, the whole image of America is someone who meddles and moves peoples and forces and governments around in that region that seems to have unlimited force.”

In other words, America is a lot like Cohn, whom Strong embodies with a brooding, towering menace. Decades after becoming notorious for prosecuting Julius and Ethel Rosenberg—ultimately resulting in their execution—his reputation precedes him. Cohn knows everyone, wins at any cost, bullies his way past any obstacle, and manipulates both the truth and lies as he sees fit. If that sounds a lot like modern-day Trump, well, he had to learn it somewhere.

1970s Trump is far less assured, striving to break out of his father’s shadow and sweatily desperate to mingle in influential circles. When he and Cohn lock eyes for the first time, the film’s score pitches toward high noir. This is fate: theirs, and perhaps, ours. A few scenes later, Cohn has agreed to represent Trump. In real-world terms, it’s hard to overstate the implications of that decision.

“This movie at its core has a Midnight Cowboy arc to it,” Strong says. “I think of it as a love story, really. It’s a chaste love story between a teacher and a pupil—these two men from the boroughs who aspired to Fifth Avenue.” He later considers Cohn within another metaphor: “He’s like a heart-of-darkness heart donor—and the heart got transplanted to Donald Trump.”

Depending on how he chooses to look at it, screenwriter Gabriel Sherman started working on The Apprentice either 20-ish years ago, or around 2017. Sherman, who is now a Vanity Fair special contributor, launched his career as a reporter at the New York Observer in the early 2000s, covering real estate. Trump emerged as a surprisingly reliable source. “It was just amazing that he was supposedly a billionaire, but if I’d call his office, within 10 minutes he would immediately call back,” Sherman tells me.

He continued to cover the man who’d go on to host his own hit TV series, naturally named The Apprentice, up through his defiantly successful presidential campaign. But as Sherman immersed himself in Trumpworld, one particular theme kept coming up in his reporting.

“I kept hearing people who had known Donald since the ’80s say something like, ‘Well, he’s just using all of the things that Roy taught him,’” Sherman says. “All of the phrases: It’s going to be amazing. Believe me. It came to me in a flash.” He wrote a treatment, then script drafts under the supervision of executive producer Amy Baer, but found Hollywood less than eager to jump on a psychologically intense Trump drama so early in his presidency. (In the meantime, Sherman wrote on Showtime’s The Loudest Voice, adapted from his Roger Ailes–focused book of the same name.) So they waited, and pondered the best way to make the movie once its time finally arrived.

“We wanted a non-American director, because non-American filmmakers tend to have an extraordinary lens through which they view American culture,” says Baer, citing Midnight Cowboy as an example. “The first time Ali and I spoke, he cited Stanley Kubrick’s film Barry Lyndon, which I thought was a brilliant and unexpected comp for this movie—a social climber who absorbs the affectations of the people and cultures around him because he himself stands for nothing.”

While writing, Sherman had ’70s New York classics on his mind—Dog Day Afternoon, Taxi Driver, and Network—while Stan says he honed this particular take on Trump through Abbasi’s references to Midnight Cowboy and Boogie Nights. Stan signed on years before financing came together (in a Canadian, Danish, and Irish coproduction). “It was a long, arduous process, and to be honest, I just didn’t know if I could do it,” the actor says. “I just scoured the internet and everything I could find…all around the time period that the movie was taking place. I watched everything.”

There were a million directions Stan could’ve gone in—and that’s also true for both Strong and Oscar nominee Maria Bakalova, who does savvy work in the film as Trump’s first wife, Ivana Trump. As the SAG-AFTRA strike delayed filming—the production eventually secured an interim agreement with the guild—Bakalova started growing and manicuring huge, long red nails. “I usually don’t really wear a lot of makeup,” she cracks. “This changed my personality!”

Abbasi describes their collaboration as constant and thorough. “We were looking at videos of Donald Trump at different ages, talking about his way of walking, talking, speaking, eating—everything.” Stan’s take on Trump, Sherman says, “feels like the person that I know, and it has nothing to do with the person we see on TV…. It’s such a risky role, and Sebastian is fearless. He just did whatever he had to do to become this person.”

“We realized that if we get too close, we’re in Saturday Night Live territory. But if we get too far away, you don’t really feel it,” Abbasi says. They achieved a middle ground by avoiding any biopic gloss: “This is not a movie where people are supposed to look good.” The makeup and hair are meticulous in their glaring imperfections, reinforcing Abbasi’s focus on physical decay and patchwork: “These people are some of the most powerful people in New York society at the time,” says Abbasi. Yet “Roy’s face looks strange, gray, brownish, his eyes are bloodshot, his forehead is shiny. Donald has strange teeth and looks unhealthy.”

Each portrayal has its own curious empathy. Stan charts Trump’s descent into power-driven madness subtly, emphasizing his relative humanity and emotional range before hitting nightmarishly familiar beats later in the film. As he gains influence and emerges as a dominant cultural force, Trump all but abandons Cohn, who’s not-so-secretly dying from HIV-AIDS.

Unlike, say, Al Pacino’s loud, flamboyant take on Cohn in Angels in America, Strong’s approach is mournful. “I’ll say unequivocally that he’s the most fascinating person I’ve ever studied,” Strong says. “I found myself moved by the arc of the character when he got sick. Someone who has lived in denial of so much, suddenly facing the end, and the searing regret and primal pain of that for someone who’s done so much damage. I don’t think he particularly felt much remorse, but he was a person.”

Ivana, meanwhile, acts as the initial wedge between the two men. Bakalova connected with her story, as a headstrong immigrant thrust into a dizzying, at times brutal world of celebrity and wealth. “I wanted to see what she saw in him, why she got impressed by him,” she says. The film doesn’t paint Ivana as a victim, even as it bluntly depicts the darkest moments of her marriage to Trump. “I keep questioning myself: ‘How did she agree to that?’ But maybe she knew what she was stepping into,” Bakalova says. “It’s another side of her being intelligent—somebody that I can, of course, criticize in moments, and also empathize with.”

“People think of Trump as this kind of fully formed tabloid figure—they think of the person they see at the rallies giving all these unhinged speeches,” Sherman says. “But the Trump of the ’70s was a very different person. While he was aggressive and he was ambitious, he did not know how to project power the way he does today. We need to understand how people like Cohn and Trump are able to wield power and manipulate the truth and create their own reality through deception. That’s a universal story.”

This is but one answer to the question looming around The Apprentice: Why make a Trump movie, and why now? He’s been sucking the oxygen out of Hollywood for going on a decade; even now, his fraught reelection campaign is moving forward while he stands criminal trial. But both Sherman and Abbasi emphasize they wanted to “strip politics” from their movie, to craft a dark character study that speaks to a larger, darker system of power in the US.

It may be difficult for viewers to remove the political context, especially as the movie teases the Trump phenomenon that will emerge out of this period—the absurdist characters now in his orbit who previously circled Cohn, the now groan-inducing catchphrases packaged over decades. At a press conference on Tuesday, Cannes’s jury president Greta Gerwig was asked about her ability to “objectively” assess the film as an American woman, and said, “I try to come to every film that we see with an open mind and an open heart, and willing to be surprised…. I don’t want to make any assumptions about what it is.”

The filmmakers hope general audiences adopt a similar attitude. There are thorny ideas and bold arguments in The Apprentice that will stick with you. The same goes for the characters, who are simultaneously vile and sad and slightly silly. “I’m a very all-or-nothing kind of person when it comes to the work stuff,” Stan says. “It’s hard for me to go with one foot in and one foot out.”

Stan spent much of production wondering what exact tone they’d land on, given the latitude they had with the script. That spontaneity informed the final product. “The shoot was pretty ride-or-die. It was fast. We didn’t have a lot of money,” Strong says. “You can’t imagine a bigger limb to go out on for either of us. I think we both felt that.”

[pizza-games-and-more]

*Scream of adorableness* OMG YOUR VOICE IS SO CUUUUTE!!!!!

Silliness aside, I got a few questions!

1. What do you think about the bosses of PT(Including PizzaFace/PizzaHead)? Who do you like the most/least? Could you make a tier list(You don't have to, tho)?

2. Did Fake Pep had some visual differences while being mind controlled by PizzaWife in season 2 finale of PTTS? Like. Some slight changes? For example: the pupils would look like a black circle with just the outline?

3. Do you mind for any fanarts related to your series concept? Even if it's made in gacha? I just wanna make one ":>

Welp. That was all, that i could think of. Love your series concept btw.

Thank you so much for reading this! Vigi fanclub forever! ^^

Thank you for your questions! Sorry I couldn't answer the first one in detail through voice. I'll make a post detailing the bosses and what I like about them and a tierlist.

I hope the rest of the answers were good enough though!

Transcript under cut:

These next questions are from razmonik. Did I say that right? Sorry if I said that wrong.

1) What do I think of the bosses of Pizza Tower and who do I like the most and least? Can I make a tier list? This might be a bit long to answer with my voice so I think I'll make a post about it instead, but I'll give an abridged version. Favourite overall is… still Vigi even disregarding character. Least favourite is actually The Noise, but I still love him. In fact, I love them all. I'll explain more in a later post though. Sorry.

2) Did Fake Peppino have visual differences while being mind-controlled by Pizzawife? When under mind-control, his eyes went green, which is Pizzawife's signature colour in parts of her design. In addition, he also looked a lot more stable and less drippy, but only because he was being forced to act a certain way.

3) Do I mind fanarts even if it's made in gacha? I don't care what you make it in, I'm just thrilled to get fanart at all! I actually teared up a little reading that and it's taking a lot of effort to keep myself together right now, I'm that happy. Just… thank you! Honestly, just knowing people like my series concept at all means a lot to me.

Anyway, Thank you for your questions! Bye!

[neoncherryblossom]

For the ask thing (I don't know how long ago that was but here you go anyway)

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

Hi! Nah you’re good, don’t worry about it.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Hmm good question. If this is talking about like little details, all my characters always end up being in one bed at some point. I had the realization when I was tagging a fic that most of them could be lumped into ‘characters literally sleeping together’ and I don’t what that says about me. 

I like it so I’m not changing it but still wondering what that means lol. 

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

(Already answered so I’ll go a bit more in depth what I meant.) I have flown by the seat of my pants perfectly fine, but having an outline, even if you thinks it’s bad, gives you a bit of a line to follow. I’ve already veered off the line of the fic I’m outlining but it’s still so much easier when I had some kinda physical plan about where I want this to go. It can be tweaked way too easily in my head so for long fics I think I’m going to try outlining first. Shorter ones are fine I think I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. 

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

(Okay this is less of a WIP and more I was possessed to write this pre- Watching and Dreaming so if you like this and want more, you're gonna have to tell me because I don't think I'll finish it.)

“Raine?” he heard Adrien whisper fearfully and he glances at the Illusionist to see his pupils shrunk, his ears turned back, his body shaking as he stared. 

Why... 

“Hmmm?” and he finally focused on the doorway because that couldn’t be Raine, the voice was demeaning, wrong. “You have all awakened. I suppose it really is in my best interest to do... THIS!” 

And Raine’s mouth opened, a gush of green stuff shut out and was in front of his face in seconds, and with screams echoing in his ears (were any of them his?) he felt the green thing pry his mouth open (gross, wrong, what’s going on?) before gurgling down his throat and spots appeared in his vision as he stumbled. 

“DARIUS!” he lifted his eye to see Eberwolf and Raine running at him, Raine barring new scars, what happened, and a voice echoing in his mind.

“Yes,” a familiar voice cooed in his head and Darius felt his hair stand up on his neck, because Belos should be dead the Collector showed all of them how he effortlessly killed him, he should be- “This has been worth everything I’ve dealt with these past few months.” 

And his vision became clouded in green as he saw Eberwolf reaching for him, horror and panic staining his features.

---

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

Never got any before but I would just like you to know that if I had any they would go in a very special place in my heart, my camera roll, my blog, my heart again. 

(I would love it a lot 😌)

[chesters-ocs]

Every time I think about Stone's paranoia kicking in when he feels someone "sneak" (bro will hurt anyone whose footsteps are loud but he was too lost in thought/half-asleep to notice them) up behind him, I can't help but think about Sarabi.

Because Sarabi has felt a knife against his throat or a gun pressed to his head so many times from Stone, he doesn't blink an eyes. He knows Stone can't help it, that Stone still has those terrible days and nights where it seems like everyone is out to get his family and therapy is helping but it's a slow process as it is with any trauma.

How he'll let Stone feel the burn scars on his face underneath the balaclava and feel the vibrations coming from his throat as he speaks, just so Stone can know 100% it's him. How he brushes off Stone's apologies when he realizes it's him, knowing Stone didn't know in the moment.

And there's something about how Sarabi stays by Stone's side and will, without prompting, maneuver Stone until he's facing someone if they come up behind them just so Stone doesn't get taken off guard by the person.

Ugh, it's loving Stone x Sarabi hours.

YEAHHH!!!! god i love stone x sarabi.

something something sarabi probably gets a gun drawn on him way more than usual, now that he's in the tree home way more. he probably has to go between it and the main house a few times a day for meal times and then some for whatever else.

god, the way stone's paranoia probably spikes every time he hears the door unlock at an unusual time, even tho it was sarabi just, idk, looking for his phone he accidentally left behind before going to bed.

i wouldnt be surprised if this gets too much for stone, and sarabi gets moved to also sleep somewhere within the main house, because the clicking of the door unprompted and so late is not doing sarabi (nor stone) any favors

i did also just imagine that when sammy and mārīte are being out and about around the house, theyre both heavily urged to at least keep the lights on in whatever room theyre in, so history doesnt repeat again. but also my thoughts spiral outta control so the rest is all under the cut

imagining theyre being little rascals and getting snacks way too late at night.

imagining stone shows up, half asleep and halfway there to a downwards spiral.

imagining sammy hides behind mārīte still (ow)

imagining mārīte says fuck it, and hugs her dad

imagining stone checking if she's really his daughter.

imagining him checking the ears, to see if theyre real. brushing aside her hair by the sideburns to check if theres any human ears instead. any signs to indicate this is a someone in a meat suit of his kid. him also checking if the piercings she has are accurate to her little collection. any and all details matter.

imagining him lightly pressing into her cheeks, to see if "they" got any details wrong.

feeling no fangs, he moves on to the tail. imagining he goes as far as to check the fur length, to see if it matches. him squeezing the tail a little too tightly to see the way it starts flickering on its own accord. him listening for a small "ow >:/" from her, which just sounds more annoyed than actually pained.

imagining stone feeling the spot where her tailbone fuses with the spine. maybe after a while she gets used to this little "ritual" he sometimes does when walking in on her late at night.

maybe she caps it off just going cat mode, mostly unprompted. going to her favorite spot: across his shoulders. him physically feeling and hearing the purring, the way it sometimes catches in her throat when she swallows, before resuming even louder. him looking at her paws as she makes air biscuits, taking in account the lack of claws appearing.

then he moves onto sammy, who is less than pleased to be basically pat down, so he's holding his big sisters hand the whole time.

stone probably starts with the face. hes noting how sammy grimaces when his cheeks are touched, how his pupils are like little pins. how he's close to baring his teeth at him.

or maybe he does. maybe the hiss/growl stone gets is more comforting than sammy intends. it also lets stone see his overly sharp fangs. which are also subtly stained from cigarettes by this point

imagining stone counting the freckles on his son's face. him feeling the base of the ears as he does so, ignoring how theyre pulled back in agitation.

imagining him taking his hands. checking for the almost faded burn scars that no doubt cover it. seeing his grown out nails in the process. the dirt thats always underneath them

imagining he checks his calves. theres a small collection of stick-n-poke tattoos there. theyre all a little stupid and badly done, and always covered by pants. (sammy didnt even know stone knew, most likely)

imagining stone listens for the sigh of relief when he pulls away, watching as mārīte stops him from whining via ruffling his hair instead. him hearing the way mārīte then complains about her hand being tangled in that bird nest of his

maybe thats enough excitement. maybe stone goes back to the bedroom to check up on his husband. its before his usual wake up time anyways.

maybe sylvester is half asleep there. or rather, what stone wants to believe is his husband.

maybe stone just gets into bed and pulls him close.

maybe stone starts checking him too. his thumb ghosting over the scars on his face. theyre small, almost unnoticeable from when the window shattered and a bullet grazed him, but theyre there. stone knows the exact count. exact spots of them all.

maybe stone just takes a moment to take in how sylvester's squinting a bit when looking at him, his glasses on the bedside table

maybe he savours the feeling of how light sylvester is, how he can barely feel him on him.

maybe he just scratches his scalp and plays with the hair, seeing how his husband melts. listening to the purring right into his ear, feeling the vibrations troughout his whole body.

maybe he feels how his tail curls around his leg, the tip of it tickling slightly. like it always does when they cuddle.

maybe stone takes in and memorizes the way he complains when rolling outta bed. watching as the first thing he does is stretch a little. stone hearing the way his spine pops, before he grab his cane. the little tapping sound being synonimous with his husband's presence.

what if this ended up extending to butcher.

what if him smoking on the porch after midnight lured stone out, who needed to check for intruders now.

what if butcher just talks at him, not liking the silence between them. him quickly accepting its not a talking day for stone, and just goes off about whatever.

what if stone compared the details of what was being spoken vs what he knew as fact, to verify their realness.

what if stone gets over his distaste for the smoke and steps closer to him. maybe he just needs to see his face. to see if the unnaturally red eyes persist.

what if stone did graze over his facial scars too, despite the fact that butcher attempted to put in some distance between them

what if stone was observing how he faltered when thrown off guard, how he looked at him with the same uncertain look, which after a second was hidden behind false confidence and a dumb flirty line

what if stone just toyed with his lighter. seeing how worn down it is, how theres little scratches on it, and most importantly, how butcher *really* didnt want him to even hold it in the first place. and stone was just seeing if the reactions lined up.

idk. words be wording. yeah.

[screechcat]

Heyo, well, if it ain't my #1 account! Always a good night to get a rag from you. Anyhooters, imma get into these queestions!

Are you named after someone?

Uh, nah, my name ended up as Olivia simply out of the spite my parents have towards my dad's father. Literally, three names trashed cause he liked it.

When was the last time you cried?

Like, a solid cry? Uuuuh, a year-ish? If we're talking like a lil cry, a few tears, about a week ago.

Do you have kids?

HA! Hell no.

What sports do you play/have played?

I was never big on sports, but I DUG softball in middle school. Not to tute my own horn, but I wasn't half bad, which was pretty good for me. I also did E-sports for R6 at my community college. I think we almost went to some finals thing, which was pretty cool. Oh, oh, how could I forget kickball!? I kicked ass at the game and it was so fun!

Do you use sarcasm?

Does a tick stick to a dog's hide? Dude, I use sarcasm as my own language. It's like my love language and half of my humor. Like, don't get me wrong, I ain't an ass about it, but if you're being stupid, you're gonna get some good ol Livie'casm.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Uh, I never really thought about it. My best guess would be their eyes? I was always thought to keep eye contact with a person when talking to them. Plus, I do it to show respect and give them my full attention.

Then again, I don't take in a lot of details on a person the first time I meet them. I'm to busy trying to focus on what they're saying and making sure they aren't a threat.

What is your eye color?

Some kind of hazel. Like, green on the outside, then blue closer to the pupil and a small gold right right around the pupil. That kinda deal.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Uuuuuuuh, I love the angst and stuff that comes with a scary movie, but I can never say no to a happy ending. Something about seeing characters on the TV getting the ending they deserve makes me smile. That and it kinda gives me little boosts of hope for my own happy ending. Well, rather the beginning of my happy forever.

Any talents?

Well, I don't know, to be honest. I've never been exceptionally good at one thing as far as I know. The closest thing to a talent I have is baking.

Where were you born?

In the good ol' land of tatters, of course! Where it's either hot as balls or as cold as an Eskimos home. Grass as yellow as a dehydrated man's piss and you will quite literally never go a day without seeing a tumble weed during the summers. Love the state, though. Best memories there and some wonderful summers.

What are your hobbies?

Uhm, hard to say, I suppose. I've come to realize that I don't really know who I am. I gave up hobbies I used to love a while ago. So, I guess doodling and listening to music are the main ones. That's the fun of it, though. I get to learn who I am all over again.

Do you have any pets?

I do, in fact! I've always had a pet in our home since, well, forever! Currently, I have a 1 year old Pitbull terrier mix, and oh my gosh, she's the cutest! We also got one of her sisters from the same litter. That one is my brother's, though. Then, we have a fat cat named Tigi, who's a whole ten years of age. Ever since she was a kitten, she's had a smoker meow(that's what we call it), and it's so funny. Her purrs are so loud too, like you can just look at her and she'll purr. Great help on the bad days. I had a tortoise shell cat, too, who was Tigi's sister. Her name was Mimi, and she was my world. Still love that cat with all of my soul even though she's gone now.

How tall are you?

A whole 5'10 my good friend! I was aiming for 6'0, but it'll do. 😌

Favorite subject in school?

Lunch.... kidding, it's hands down history class. I'm a nerd, and history is just so fun to learn about.

Dream Job?

Ideally, one where I'd get paid to travel or maybe a successful actress/YouTuber. Being realistic, though I'd just like a job where I help people. Like, I'll be off to college soon enough, and I'm considering a psych degree because I love the field, and the thought of helping others with things I struggle with just sounds right.

K, that was soooo fun! I loved learning more about you. It feels like we're closer now, ya know? Anyhooters, here it is!

The friends/moots that I'm gonna try and drag into this: @lowkeyerror @smalls-words @godlykhepri @skeletors-cock @gilligans-islands @ctitan98official @unholyhelbig @ale-owl

🙌15 Questions For Friends 🙌

Tagged by my people: @michiganstray , @blackwolfstabs , and @osnapitzmel1

⬆️Gif and Photo made by FantasyLandBitch ⬆️

Are you named after someone?

No, my mom had the name Elizabeth picked out I think before or after I was born. However, if you are referring to my tumblr name then I made the name"FantasyLandBitch" up way after high school because I wasn't sure what to really call myself and for the life of me I don't remember the original name of my tumblr.

When was the last time you cried?

I cried last night while my sister and her wife were driving me and my little brother back to our parents house and I had cried while in the house.

Do you have kids?

Haha in this economy? No.

What sports do you play/have played?

Well growing up I didn't participate in team sports like wanting to go pro kind of sports because I had a lot of anxiety, was super shy, and insecure. However, I did like participating in flag football, volleyball, badminton, baseball, and sometimes floor hockey.

Do you use sarcasm?

I had to ask my brother "Hey Jon, have I ever used sarcasm?" and he said "no" so no. I think it's because I sort of wouldn't know how to do that but if I picked up that someone else was using sarcasm in a particular tone that lets me know that they're using sarcasm that's fine or like they're kidding is fine.

But if someone is using sarcasm in a rude way then I might be inclined to punch them really hard in the throat.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

I would say their vibes or their personality because I might be intimidated if I don't know the stranger or I might feel uncomfortable by their vibes. But if someone's vibes and personality seem friendly then it's safe for me to talk to them.

What is your eye color?

I think my eyes are dark brown.

Scary movies or happy endings?

DAMN okay so for this one it really depends because if it's a scary movie with a happy ending where a character lives after suffering the entire movie then I'm all for it right. The narrative needs to be well thought out and not half assed. But if it's like a scary movie where the narrative and characters makes sense, then be my guest kill everyone on the screen, however, if it's a movie like "The Descent" and there are no happy endings then I might get fucking angry.

Any talents?

Okay so for some reason this one was kind of hard for me to understand so I had to look up what you meant. But I would say writing, maybe storytelling, having a creative mind or possibly being creatively gifted.

{I would have to get help for this one and write a list.}

Where were you born?

In the USA but if you're talking about where I came out of the womb then that is confidential.

What are your hobbies?

Writing, Drawing in different mediums, sewing when I have to sew, playing video games, listening to music, sometimes singing, sometimes reading,

Do you have any pets?

I did...we had to put my 12 year old dog down on March 2 due to liver cancer so it's been kind of hard for me since then. But I suppose I have unofficially adopted my friends pets, my sisters dog Starbuck, and am kind of happy just seeing animals in general.

How tall are you?

I'm 5'3 and ready to beat someone's ass like a morally gray character.

Favorite subject in school?

Oooooooooooooooooh that's kind of a hard one, it's between History and Art.

Dream job?

When I figure it out then I'll come back to you.

I shall tag: @screechcat , @thisonewhocanbreathe , @schrodingerspsycho , @wandagcre

Feel free to try this out, tag your friends or close followers but also no pressure to make one!😊💚😘

[bbokkie]

For The First Time

Scenario: You're rambling something to your boyfriend, you soon worry about being too annoying since he hasn't said anything to you whilst you chattered. You looked at him, only to be met with loving eyes and a love-struck smile. >_o

"It's just like seeing her for the first time again.."

Characters Included: Chamber, Yoru, Phoenix

Disclaimer: This will be in a Headcannon with Oneshot type of form

(hi schnookies i tots forgot u guys haven't eaten anything for the past month sowwy, here's expired food for u<3)

Song: For The First Time - Mac Demarco

Chamber - Vincent Fabron

- Chamber really likes when you ramble, I know this man can go on and on about something-- his looks, or his guns so he loves seeing his loved one ramble on about something because for one, he loves hearing your voice and two he gets to stare at you while all kinds of emotions appear on your face that he oh so loves.

You both sat down on a chair while you told him about your day, the mission you had was crazy, almost life threatening which made the story much more fun to narrate and interpretate.

For the first few minutes into your story, Chamber responded well with jokes and laughter, everything went well! After a few more minutes, you never really noticed him not responding back until you paused to drink water. You realized that you might've been annoying him, with worry in your system you looked at your boyfriend.

Your eyes met with his, his cheek resting on his hand while his eyes deemed soft and warm, his lips curved into a soft yet telling smile, eyebrows softened. Looking at him, your heart ached! You looked at him with a gaping mouth as your cheeks flushed with red.

"What's wrong, mon cheri?" He asked, slightly worried. You closed your mouth as you shook your head. He laughed. "Don't let this face ruin your beautiful storytelling." He said softly. "Trust me, I'm listening with full intent! It's just that the storyteller is such a sight for sore eyes." He chuckled. You looked away with a bright red face. The man laughs again.

"Pardon, do continue. Also, turn your face back to me, I really like looking at something while listening."

Yoru - Ryo Kiritani

- He convinces himself that he doesn't like listening to anything, or anyone to be exact. He hates having to just sit down and listen, ew.

- But.. he adores your voice, he hates listening but you, you were an exception. He could listen to you anytime. Even he's wounded and you're scolding him, he wouldn't be pissed off or annoyed, he'd just be happy he lived to hear you.

It's lunch time, the two of you got your food and sat down in the empty cafeteria.

Sitting down, you then started small conversation. "How was your day?" You asked. "Shouldn't you know already, you've been following me around all day." He said with rolled eyes. "Okay? If I don't follow you, you'd think I'm dead or in a white van." You fired back. He sighed in defeat, or cockyness.

He then asked how your mission was yesterday, he heard from Raze that your mission yesterday was funny and lighthearted unlike most missions.

When he asked you that your eyes widened and sparkles replaced your pupils. It's not everyday your boyfriend asks you about your day. With a skip of a heartbeat you explained the details of your day.

Of course, usually after 4 sentences or so you shove a spoonful of food into your mouth, saying words with a full mouth while making hand gestures only to swallow the food and repeat what you said.

In Yoru's pov, he drifted into his thoughts mid story. Whilst staring at you, he remembered when he fell for you. It was just as simple as a stare when he knew he fell. Before he knew it, his heart ached. It quickened and it started hurting, in that moment he realized something, he was irreparably in love with you.

You realized that your boyfriend hasn't said a word about your story. You stopped for a moment. You though to yourself, "That bitch definitely teleported away to fuck with me."

You looked beside you only to be met with your boyfriend with his chin on the table with a goofy smile and soft eyes. Within seconds, he realized you were looking at him and his back immediately straightened and his cheeks flooded red. You two sat there in silence. He held his hands out before teleporting away.

It took you a few seconds but you bursted into cackling laughter. That shit was so loud, wherever Yoru teleported to he heard it and his ears BURNED.

Phoenix - Jamie Adayemi

- Bro LOVES conversation with you. He'd literally do anything for you to even engage with him even though you two are dating. Honestly, he sometimes forgets you two are dating, even to this day he's still a little shy around you, and does over the top things to hopefully impress you. And every time you two start conversation, he's always lost into something, you.

The two of you sat on a patch of grass, you two were having a little cute picnic date! He first asked how your day went, a simple conversation starter. Without much thought and with a clap of your hands you started rambling about your day.

- I would like to think when Phoenix gradually loses his focus on a conversation he begins to drop from full blown sentences as replies to bland and hopeless "Mhm's"

You continued to talk about your day when you slowly realized that his replies were all sloppy and almost tired "Mhm's". Concern and worry filled your body so you decided to check up on him.

You looked to your side only to see him lying down on his stomach, two palms out and his chin in the middle, eyes soft and filled with love and a goofy, wide smile. You giggled at the sight. Phoenix quickly realized his girly ass action and straightened before laughing with you. "Do I have that much an impact on you?" You laughed.

"Yeah, you've got a pretty face and voice. How could I not be distracted?"

(nahh u got phoenix giggling and kicking his feet 🫶🫶 anyways girlie pops and slaybossers i hope u enjoyed ur monthly BANGERR!!! MAKE SURE TO SMASHGHH THAT LIKE BUTTON AND DESTROY THST GODDSMN SUBSCRIBE BUTTON SO I CAN PAY MY MORTGAGE !!)