#it's such a perfect representation of “you have to do This Thing to charge up before you do That Thing”

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than theories

Made a TON of monster hunter cards and now every melee weapon has a decent amount of representation in the card pool. I have not made a single gunner weapon card.

[diballydumbloo]

EVERYONE PLZ LOOK AT HER (people who made the fanart: shadow.cipher/instagram, @hannathenarc/twt, hattersarts/tumbler)

It’s like, her character design and personality we get to see in the whole 2 min of the video is more than enough for me to start making head cannons for her.

Plus all the things we see she can do/is/does in the music video?!!!

We first see she has a background as some sort of pirate esk character in a group and has beef with this entire vampire/monster league

We can tell she’s the muscle of the group because we see her demeanor handling one captured enemy, she is the first to jump out of the ship, she seems skilled at quick action and acrobatics, AND SHE DESTROYS A WHOLE BUILDING JUST BY LANDING ON IT, and the obvious fact that she’s bigger than the rest of the clown group.

And it’s like the rest of the group knows what she’s capable of, they know she doesn’t need a parachute to dive 100ft in the air, all of her actions just give us more clarification of why she was put in charge of handling the captured enemy in the start of the video and why it was probably planned for her to jump first out the ship

So much of her personality just shines through in the first min of this mv it’s insane, or maybe I’m just crazy :?

Her character design too?!??

The overalls makes her work feel more”heavy duty” if that makes sense, and the long hair just feels so fitting for her especially when it’s up. AND THE BIG SHARP TEETH W/ THE EYES. IAN YOU DIDNT HAVE TO GO SO CRAZY ON THIS CHARACTER AS YOU DID.<333 Being clown themed just brings her all the way to the top on the character design too.

I remember this one head cannon that I heard from someone, that in that clown universe all female born clowns tend to grow up to be bigger compared to male born clowns, this headconnon is awesome and now I say it’s true

But the eyes and teeth just make her more mysterious and stand out in the group, why do we see her with those features but no one else? Maybe she’s only half clown and those features come from a vampire or other creature?

AND THE VOICE

Maybe Ian’s singing in the mv wasn’t supposed to be the exact representation/voice of BigJ, but it’s too perfect not to be. I just imagine if Big J were to have the voice of anyone it would be Ian because of how well the raspy deep tone singing is done by him. Big J totally embodies his voice perfectly I think. In other things like Worthi’s 15 blows album you can hear more of that absolute monsterish singing that matches Big J perfectly

Anyway idk I just rlly like this character and hope to see more content/ head cannons for her, if ygs have any plz comment them or smth<33

[badsweetangel]

Kinktober Day 21: Power play (Mycroft Holmes BBC x reader)

BBC's Mycroft Holmes is the epitome of power play (now you know where my kink fixation came from)

Warnings: fingering, tight riding, ownership, degradation.

Tag: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek

“I hope I don’t have to threaten you too,” he said in his authoritative voice, looking down at you from his desk in a contemptuous manner.

You let out a pleasant, youthful laugh.

“Do you really think I would talk?” You walked over to him, passing by his desk, stopping short when he quickly ordered you to do so with a gesture of his hand.

“Of course not.” He smiled proudly. “Now, I have work to do.”

“Was that all?” You asked disappointedly. “Is that just why you made me come here?”

The look he gave you shut you up immediately. It was obvious you were questioning him because he hadn’t touched you in weeks. He could see it from the rhythm of your breathing and the constant rubbing of your legs. You are so transparent. It was difficult to hide things from him. Not to say impossible.

Despite his order, you walked over to the chair and touched the back of it softly with your hand, swallowing. You didn’t want to say anything wrong, you couldn’t make mistakes with him. He was a man of cold nature. The fact that he didn’t kick you out was already a step forward for you.

“Please,” you begged, anxiously.

Once again you didn’t know what he was thinking. Would he kick you out of his office? Would he cut you out of his life forever for bothering him? Would he get upset with you and call you immature and boast of his intellectual superiority to you?

His chair moved slightly, just enough for you to get closer to him. You did, still without sitting down, and slowly took off your clothes, not caring that he might change his mind and make a fool of you.

No, you didn’t care.

Even if he made a fool of you, you would thank him for it.

You were naked in front of him, while he was dressed. However, that wasn’t the only symbol of power between the two of you, this was just a lewd representation of reality.

The truth is that Mycroft knew everything: your schedule, where you were, who you were with, the content you saw, and he could even deduce your thoughts so easily.

Nakedness was just an insufficient symbol of power.

It was the relationship they would forever have. He would do whatever he wanted with you, he would know everything about you, he would tell you your next possible thoughts and he would belittle you for being so naive. He would tell you that you should listen to him, that you are immature.

His eyes for the first time wandered over your body. He was impassive, he was indifferent to nakedness. He was not such a simple man.

But he saw the desire in your eyes, the need you had for him to possess you and show you who was in charge.

Yes, you had the perfect reactions: fear, pleasure and surrender. Total surrender.

Yes, he controlled your life. But he tried to do it with everyone. So you didn't feel particularly attacked.

He nodded a couple of times as he looked at your body once more and stood up from his chair. His fingers dug into your waist and he lifted you onto his desk.

Two fingers dipped inside you and he fingered you in a spectacular way. He hit all your spots with such easy and simple movements.

He knew your body perfectly.

Knew how to give you everything.

Your hands gripped the table, unable to believe the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

You felt an emptiness when he pulled his fingers away.

He shoved his wet fingers into your mouth, reveling in your submission. Yes, he had power. So much power. He could ruin your life with one call. He could do so many things and no one could do anything about it.

He had never been a possessive man, but you were practically his. You liked being under his control. Him telling you he was better than you in every way.

His clever degrading comments.

You lapped up your own fluids in desperation and hunger.

He sat back down in his seat. Directing his gaze to your wet crotch, not taking his gaze away from there. Touching your thigh softly.

He patted his lap.

You obeyed him immediately, riding his leg. Moving with passion and madness, holding on to the back of his chair, while his gaze was contemptuous.

The sensation grew inside you, taking over your body, continuing with the movement even though your body was completely sweaty.

Despite his silent humiliation.

You stained his expensive pants with your fluids.

“Tomorrow you will go see Sherlock” He ordered, ignoring your orgasm.

“I can’t” You denied, quickly. “I have plans…”

“No…” He denied your comment in anticipation.

You sighed. He was never wrong.

[jakelinestradlin]

Tag yourseld where your Mars take place in your birth chart ♥ Mine is on Scorpio ♥

Aries Mars

Rawness. A strong grip. Tugging a lock of hair when it gets too much. A thin line between pain and pleasure. Nails scratching down a back because of frustration. A build up. Taunts. Deliberately causing arguments because make-up sex with you feels so good. Will you take the bait? Sex feeling new each time. A fast rhythm. Confidence. Advancing towards you. Feeling protective over you. An urge to KO anyone who looks at you for more than 2 seconds. Warrior urges instigated. Persistence got me this far in life, let me show you how it works for me.

Taurus Mars

Pressure. A slow burning warmth that licks up the body. We have all the time in the world.  Every part of the body exposed to a kiss, a touch, a breath of air. Flickering of orange flames in a fireplace. A feeling of pure, unabashed sensuality when naked. Coolness of air which brushes the hairs on the back of the neck. Rooted in sexual energy. Slow and steady wins the race. Scented massages. Starting at the base of the neck. Feeling strength. Resilience. Flavored condoms. Drunk on your love. How is it possible you taste sweeter every time? The smooth column of the throat. The shadows a sunset causes dancing. Seduction is like art to me, let me paint you a masterpiece. 

Gemini Mars

Curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives. Opening up to try different things. Trying to do too many things at once. Falling on the floor so we stay there. A combination of arms and legs. Head cocked to one side. Observing you from a different angle. Slanted eyes. A feeling of pressure that’s quick but growing in acuteness. Busy hands. Roaming fingers. Lights on or off it doesn’t matter. I can still picture you. In my mind. With my eyes closed. You’re a permanent imprint on my psyche. My desire resides on the mental plane. Whispering all the things I want to do to you. Biting an ear lobe. Wanting to learn about every inch of your body. Tell me your fantasies and watch how fast I bring it to you in real time.

Cancer Mars

Baby. But I can take control. It depends how I feel. An emotionally charged touch. Hearts in sync. A vivid imagination. Role-playing. Wearing that outfit, I know has that effect on you. Playing coy. If I’m feeling sad, I might insist we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, just for a while. Is that OK? A stormy kind of desire. Waking up to kisses. Not wanting to sleep because this moment is all I ever dreamed of. This feels like home. Checking in with you. A sensitive kind of love. Hold me tight. So tight I can’t breathe. Only then will it feel right. TLC. Crying before, during and after sex. I can’t help it. A sudden wave of desire, greedy in nature. Strong feelings of lust. My fervor for you is bottomless, this is but a small representation of its total expression.

Leo Mars

Doing it in the mirror so I can show you how beautiful you look. Don’t be shy. Rose petals on the bed. Even more rose petals on the floor. I Wanna perform for you. An effortless performance, start to finish. This is what you signed up for. Let me deliver my end of the deal. Pride in the bedroom. Forgetting about past lovers. At the moment of release, saying my name soothes the lion inside that bares it’s teeth when you’re underneath me. Aggression. Feeling royal together. Round one barely took the edge off. Leaving my mark on you. The bedroom feels like a hunting ground. Running isn’t an option. Pleasure in all its forms. Can you tame the beast?

Virgo Mars

Acting reserved in public but it’s a different story behind closed doors. Who knew? Not afraid to get dirty with you. Voyeurism. Less stress. Surrendering to pleasure and not feeling guilty for it. Peace with the imperfection of this ritual. Perfection out of the window. Lust making a direct entrance, front and center. Tasting you. And then kissing you. Tasting us. Fresh sheets. Getting equally turned on watching you get dressed vs watching you get undressed. When we’re done, cleaning you as an act of service. Submission. A routine that brings order to a chaotic life. If I tell you how crucial this is to my well-being, will you look down on me?

Libra Mars

Fluid. Fluidity in our movements. You first, then me. Close your eyes if you like. There’s no rush. I like being here with you. Who said romance was dead? Wants and desires expressed with you in mind. Sleepy sex. In the throes of passion, you still look like a masterpiece. Can’t get enough. Delicate petals of a rose. Instinctively knowing how to get you off. Licking my lips. And then licking you down there. Playing with you with finesse. How does this feel? Dressing up, just for you. A breathy sigh released in the crook of the neck. Scented candles. Not knowing where each other begins and ends. Not caring. A true union of souls. Sharing this helps me to forget about inner turmoil, if only for a little while.

Scorpio Mars

Enticement. Pupils full and unblinking. Space between us lasts for a second. Who are we kidding? Sharing oxygen. Sucking on your bottom lip. Eyes on me. That’s not a request. Wanting to watch you fall apart. A wet trail left by a tongue. Those kinds of toys. Do you trust me? Show me how much. Fingers pressed into the skin, hard. A ghostly handprint on the skin flashes on the surface of the skin for a heartbeat. Teeth tease the throb of a pulse point. Blood rushing. Be brave enough to discover the intensity of my feelings and be sucked under. Only to rise up in levels in consciousness of a spiritual plane. Love is transformational. I’m willing to show you what you do to me. Don’t run.

Sagittarius Mars

Free rein. Sex with the possibility of being exposed. Down for whatever. Bluntness. Desires expressed with no shame. A finger over the lips. Playing to win. Feeling energized when rolling around the sheets. Nothing is off limits. Fantasies coming true. No strings attached. Watch me do you. Laughter as foreplay. Relax with me. You may have tried this position before but with me it’s different. Let’s get physical. A work out. Kissing you to muffle your screams. Messy hair. Messy sheets. How did this end up in the bed? Mundane details of life losing their importance when we’re together. Feeling the strength coursing through the thighs. I would risk getting caught with you.

Capricorn Mars

A hand on your waist in public, a hand on your throat in secret. Trust me, it feels better when you wait. Limits pushed. Burning up. Debauchery. I won’t tell. It’s our little secret. Experience is a turn on. Standards are a turn on. A sense of control. Mastery. I know this game in and out. Sex is all about power at the end of the day. Soft bristles of a whip, barely brushing the spine. I know how to do this with my eyes closed. How do you feel about blindfolds? Vulnerability. Replaying these moments, we share in inappropriate places. Seductive e-mails. Legs pressed tightly together. Having power over you is an accolade I hold close to my heart, not something I take for granted.

Aquarius Mars

Electric. Electricity when our fingers touch. Permission to be one’s free, authentic self. A non-judgement zones. Non-physical forms of affection. I’m open to trying something new with you. Inviting other people into the picture but only you can make me feel this way. Incorporating technology to add a new flavor. Feeling closer to you in group sex. Conversations intermingling within the very act of sex. Noses brushing against each other faintly. Deep eye-contact feels orgasmic. Hearing soft vibrations in the air before you feel it. Swirling galaxies. My thoughts are consumed by you nowadays, but I’m OK with that.

Pisces Mars

Altered states of consciousness. The bliss that comes when feeling wholly accepted. Complete adoration. Eyes locked. A desire to merge together. Skinny-dipping under the cloak of the night. Who cares if we get caught. No restrictions. A transcendent experience. Artistic nudes. A photo album on my phone. Dedicated to you. Boundaries teased. Biting my lip to control myself but failing. Kisses on the forehead. Reverence. I can morph into whoever you want me to. Kissing you, but my eyes are open. Moments of silence. Desires expressed without words. The sweetest dreams. Every time feels like a little death, only to be reborn again.  

[arvandus]

Touch Chapter 16 - A Night Out

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!AFAB!Reader

**18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI**

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: Soft!Dabi, Fem!AFAB!Reader with a fictional backstory, fanon version of past events (I started this before the canon stuff dropped), manga  spoilers, canon deviation, drug abuse/withdrawal (with inaccuracies since it’s outside of my experience and relies on research and imagination), violence, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, hurt/comfort, pining, slow burn, eventual emotionally charged SMUT,  all characters will be written with complexity (i.e., no  one-dimensional/hateful representations). *please pay attention to specific warning tags within each chapter!*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking. Lots of drinking (both Dabi and reader). Overall drug themes apply; bar scene/club scene (look, we get to have some FUN in the chapter, OK?? We deserve it!)

Chapter Songs: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys/All I Need by Radiohead

Part 1   Part 15

Chapter 16: A Night Out

You were in the hideout briefly. Dabi changed into his more preferred attire of his stitched jacket, matching pants, and boots. He was free of his mask and his sunglasses now, and you were grateful to finally be able to see his face again.  His blue eyes looked at you with mirth when he showed up at your bedroom door.  You handed him your pills and he downed them with water before crinkling the bottle and tossing it into your trash can.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Do you need me to touch up your scars first?” you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

The ‘yes’ hung on the edge of Dabi’s tongue, the desire for relief always present, but this time he swallowed it.  Wherever he was taking you, he didn’t want your sensory overload to be an issue.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him.  “Uh-huh... you know, that word doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“It means that I’ve got it under control.”

You pursed your lips and looked down at your attire. It was the same one you’d been wearing earlier: jeans, a shirt, and a jacket.

“Should I change...?” you asked.

Dabi shrugged. “Do you wanna change?”

“Depends.  Where are you taking me?”

“Not sure yet.” Dabi looked you over, head to toe, his eyes leaving fire in their wake across your skin. “You look great.  Let’s get outta here.”

You were too flustered to argue, so you followed him down the stairs and out the door into the night air. A gentle mist of rain was falling down slowly, coating everything in a diamond dust of dew drops.

“We might get soaked tonight...” you commented.

“You worry too much,” Dabi replied as he put his arm over your shoulder again.

A smirk played at your lips. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Your hand came up to interlock your fingers with his comfortably. Right now, you didn’t want to dwell on what it meant; you just wanted to enjoy the contact that he was suddenly offering so freely.

“Then we’re perfect for each other,” he teased.

Your skin burned hot at his flirting and he glanced at you, taking in the surprised look on your face that you struggled to bury. He smirked.

“Let’s get some dinner first,” he continued. “What d’ya want?”

“What can we afford?”

Dabi flashed the fat wad of cash nestled in the inner coat pocket against his chest.  “Whatever we want. My treat.”

Your eyes bulged. “Dabi! Where did you get that??”

Dabi scoffed.  “Did ya think I was just checking out your cute ass while I was walking behind you all day?”

“I— What??”

“Gotta make a living somehow, sweetheart.  I’m an expert pickpocket, remember?”

You did remember. But right now, Dabi pickpocketing was the last thing on your mind. He was getting under your skin on purpose, and you were enjoying it.  It felt like old times, before things had gotten... complicated.

“Pick your poison, doll. What’re ya feelin’?”

“Hmmm... how about sushi?” you suggested.

Dabi grimaced.  “Uhhh, gotta confession. I hate fish.”

You laughed. “How can you be Japanese and hate fish? It’s like a cultural staple.”

Dabi wrinkled his nose. “It tastes... fishy. And slimy. And I hate the way it smells.”

You laughed again. “Okay, not sushi then.  How about ramen?”

“Didn’t we have that recently? Twice?”

“Yeah, because it’s delicious.  I could probably live off ramen, to be honest...” 

“Hm.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, smartass, what do you want to eat?”

“I know just the spot. We gotta hop on the bus, though.”

“Lead the way.”

A few minutes later, you stepped off the bus to see a small little restaurant.  Its entire front was a large window that was open to the street, with a counter and bar stools attached into the cement.  An animated neon sign of a ramen bowl danced on its low roofline.

“I thought you didn’t want ramen?” you asked confused.

“Surpriiise.” Dabi singsonged.  You began crossing the street together.  “The owner is a bit rough around the edges, and a total alcoholic. But his ramen is the best I’ve had.”

A canopy overhang allowed for protection from the drizzling as the two of you sat down at the counter.

“Oy,” said a gruff voice. You looked up to see an old man with what remained of his hair pulled back into a ponytail and tattoos up to his jaw line. “You again.”

“Long time no see.” Dabi replied.

The man nodded at you. “Who’s this?”

“A friend.”

Your heart sank in your chest at the label, and then you cursed yourself for being an idiot.  Of course you were friends.  All of this – helping you through your panic attack, letting you lean on him on the ride home, taking you out to get your mind off things... it was Dabi being a good friend.

A friend who held your hand.

A friend who put his arm around your shoulder.

A friend who almost kissed you the night before...

You refocused your attention when Dabi nudged you with his elbow.  “Huh??”

“What do you want?” Dabi repeated.

The old man waved his hand dismissively.  “Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing.”  Then he set down a bowl of edamame for you to share and immediately began preparing the food.

“Wait, what just happened?” you asked.

Dabi laughed.  “You took too long deciding so he decided for you.”

“Oh.”

“You want something to drink?”

You stared at the list of beverages.  “Beer. Sapporo?”

Dabi’s grin widened. “Oh, loosening up now, are we?” He put the order in, holding up two of his fingers.  A moment later, two tall, ice-cold beer cans were placed in front of you.

You took a sip, letting the carbonation and flavor play on your tongue.  You didn’t answer right away, unease swimming in your chest. You took a few more sips.

“Dabi...” you finally probed. He looked at you sideways as he drank.  “Why are you doing this?”

What is this to you?

Dabi set the can down and began to fiddle with it, his fingers wiping patterns into the condensation.

“Because I didn’t want to go back there either.  We were both stir-crazy in that place.  Figured it was time to stretch our legs a little.  Tonight should just be about having fun.”

“Well...” you smiled. “If that’s the case, you know what I want?”

Dabi looked at you attentively, his eyes trying to pry the answer before your lips could give it. “What?” he replied.

“I want to get drunk.”

Dabi let out a surprised laugh.

Your grin widened. “Like, stupid drunk.”

“Wasted?”

“Absolutely shitfaced.” You grinned into your beer as you drank more of it down, letting it wash over the knot you felt in your gut.

Dabi laughed again. “I think we can manage that.”  He took another swig of his beer.  “This’ll be fun...” he muttered.

You didn’t want to think about anything tonight. You didn’t want to worry.  And you didn’t want to rehash what had happened earlier during the day.  All you wanted was a break, a night to feel like a normal person, to be able to feel like you were a part of the world again.

So, you drank, and laughed, and ate.  Dabi was right. It was the best ramen you’d ever had.  Thirty minutes later, your stomach was now full and happy, and your veins hummed warmly with the first beer you drank.  Just as you finished your can, another took its place.

You stared at it. “What’s this?”

Dabi held up his new can in a toast.  “You said you wanted to get wasted.  Cheers.”

“Oh God...” you laughed. “But I’m so full...”

“Don’t worry, doll. We got all night.”

“Really?”

Dabi shrugged. “Not unless you got plans with someone else,” he teased.

You laughed. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about in that department.”

“Not even your dealer friend from earlier?”  Dabi prodded curiously.

“Yatsu??”

“You two even have nicknames for each other. How cute.” he commented dryly, his stiff grin never reaching his eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “Uh, nooo.... I mean, there’s history there, but... it’s long past.”

The shop owner refilled the small bowl of edamame.  Dabi grabbed one and skinned it with his teeth.

“Yeah?” he said, “I’d be curious to hear that story...”

You laughed. “Not much to it, really... Yatsumoto was interested but I wasn’t.”

“Really?” Dabi’s sarcasm dripped heavy. “An upstanding guy like that?”

“I wasn’t too interested in relationships back then.  Very single focused on my research at the time.  Besides,” — you took a swig of your drink and then leaned into Dabi, your voice dropping to a whisper —  “he’s not really my type.”

You picked up an edamame shell and ate the soybeans from it.

“Oh yeah?  What is your type then?”

‘Someone tall, dark, and handsome with the world’s biggest daddy issues.’

You thought it, but didn’t say it.

A grin started on Dabi’s lips, a mischievous glint in his half-lidded eyes.  “Maybe someone who’s in horrible need of chapstick?”

Shigaraki instantly came to your mind, and you laughed. You threw the empty edamame shell at Dabi.  “What?? No.”

Dabi’s grin widened. “Hmm, maybe someone with a wide variety of personalities...”

“You’re terrible.”

“Or maybe someone who knows magic tricks.”

“Oh my God, no. Compress is like a brother to me, that’s so weird.”

Instant elation filled Dabi’s veins, but he tamped it down, keeping his expression neutral.  Instead, he grabbed another edamame.  “Coulda fooled me; you two seem close.”

“That’s because he’s the one who recruited me into the League,” you replied.  “He saved my life a while back.”

Dabi’s amusement fell apart at this new piece of information.  His smirk was gone, his expression neutral.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Not long after I’d been kicked out of the university, my place got broken into.  I came home when the robbers were still there, shuffling through my things.” You shuddered at the memory.  “They saw me, I saw them, and I ran.  They chased me down the stairs and outside... It was Compress who stopped them, popping up out of nowhere. I probably would have been killed if he didn’t show up...”

Dabi’s mind rolled over the information, filing it next to all the other little facts he’d gathered about you.

“Do you know what they were after?” he asked.

A half smile curled your lip that didn’t reach your eyes.  “They weren’t going through my bathroom or bedroom looking for jewelry or digging through my bags for cash. One of them had my laptop, and the other was shuffling through papers.”

“They were after your research.”

You snapped finger guns at him.  “Bingo.”

Dabi took a long draw of his beer and you followed suit.  He stared into the can as he swirled its contents slowly.  “So how does your brother fit into all of this?”

You had begun to raise your beer can to your lips, but you hesitated, then lowered it back down to the counter.  “He was the reason for my research.  I wanted to help him, figure out how  to make it so that his quirk couldn’t hurt himself or anyone else ever again.  And I needed to prove that he wasn’t a bad person. That it was his quirk manifesting itself, forcing itself to be expressed.”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment.  “What was his quirk?”

You hesitated again, and Dabi began to have second thoughts about his questioning. Tonight was supposed to be about having fun, and at this moment, you weren’t smiling. The gentle misting began to transition into heavier drops, the sound drumming on the canopy above you.

Dabi opened his mouth to rescind his question, but you answered before he could.

“Others called it Mind Flay, but he called it Tabula Rasa.”

“Blank Slate,” Dabi hummed. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It wasn’t,” you replied. “He had the ability to make people literally lose their minds. Like, one moment they’d be themselves, and the next moment, they’d be a dumb, drooling mess. Like he wiped them clean, basically turning them into vegetables.”

Dabi fell silent as his mind ran through the ramifications of such a quirk.  “When did it manifest?”

You gave a sardonic laugh. “The same age it did for everyone else; at around 4 years old.”

Dabi let out a low whistle. Kids were small, emotional creatures. A child having that level of power...

Dabi wondered who the first victim was.  A family member? A classmate? A teacher?

You drank more of your beer as if it helped you get the words out.  “He was older than me,” you explained.  “He was in and out of institutions for years, so I didn’t see him very much. My parents put him through every kind of therapy imaginable, every quirk suppression program. They’d think it worked, but then it’d happen all over again. Like he couldn’t help himself.  It’d come out when he was angry... or when he was protective...”

You swallowed, and Dabi realized you had tears in your eyes.

“We don’t gotta talk about this.” he said.

You gave a small laugh and wiped at your eyes.  “Sorry,” you replied.

Dabi gave a dry laugh. “You did it again.”

“What?”

“Apologized when you didn’t need to.”

“Oh,” you laughed.  

Dabi cut you off before the words could fall from your lips again.  “Don’t say it.”

You laughed and gave him a light shove.  “Get out of my head.”

You were smiling again; and it made the pressure sitting on Dabi’s chest ease slightly.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” he said.

“I don’t mind. I just...” you stared into your beer can.  “I might need more alcohol than this if you want to hear the rest.”

Dabi gave a small smile. “I know a place.”

He paid the bill, finished the last of his beer, and the two of you left the protection of the canopy to venture out into the rain.  You held onto his arm and pressed yourself against his side against the cold as the two of you made your way down the street.  He skipped the first bar, knowing they overcharged for their alcohol, and then ushered you quickly into the next one.

It was busy, a small dive bar packed with bodies, the sound of pool balls being struck at the opposite end of the room.  Music played loudly over the speakers, blending in with the hum of multiple drunken conversations.  Dabi managed to spot an open bar stool and squeezed you onto it.  He remained standing next to you and had to put his mouth to your ear to ask you what you wanted.  You had to do the same to answer him, and he leaned across the counter to give your orders to the bartender.

A moment later, your drinks were in front of you.

“Aren’t you worried about being recognized here?” you shouted into Dabi’s ear.

Dabi leaned close to speak. “Nah, not here.  This side of town doesn’t give two shits. Half of the people here are wanted by the Hero Commission anyway.”  You stared at him with uncertainty, and he leaned in even closer, his hand warm on your back.  “You’re safe, doll. I promise.”

So, you sat and drank, the place too loud to carry a conversation.  Eventually the seat next to you opened up and Dabi took it.

A couple of drinks later, and you were feeling the effects of the alcohol much more. You felt more liquid than person, and you swayed slightly to the thrumming of music that played over the speakers, barely audible over the din of the space.  Dabi watched you silently with a half-lidded gaze, his eyes always observing.  You didn’t bring up your brother again, and Dabi didn’t ask, determined to keep the smile on your face for as long as possible.

After a little while, he leaned over to speak to you.

“Do you play pool?” he asked.

“What?”

“Pool.” he repeated.

You looked over at the pool table and noticed it was empty.  In fact, the entire bar had a little less people in it, some of the patrons deciding to continue their bar hopping elsewhere.  Still, it remained plenty busy, and you knew the table would get snagged up immediately.

Before you could answer, Dabi grabbed your hand and yanked you off the bar stool. Before you got too far, you grabbed your drink from the counter and brought it with you.

You stared at the table in front of you as Dabi grabbed a couple of cue sticks from the wall.

“This is a bad idea,” you chuckled.

Dabi looked up at you as he began setting the balls into the triangle.  “Why?”

“Because I’m fucking drunk, Dabi...” you laughed.

“You? Drunk?” he teased. He stepped closer to you and held up his fingers.  “How many fingers am I holding up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Three.”

“Eh, you’re fine.”

“Wait, did I get it right??” you asked.

Dabi’s grin widened and he refused to answer.  “Do you wanna break or should I?”

“Hm, you go first. I’m waiting for the room to stop spinning.”

“Suit yourself.”  Dabi hit the cue ball and the triangle of balls burst in all directions.  The purple ball fell into the corner pocket. “You’re stripes.”

You puffed air out of your cheeks and took a sip of your drink for courage.  You stepped up to the table, lined up your cue stick, and missed horribly.

Dabi laughed, and you shot him a glare.

“I told you I was too drunk for this.”

“C’mon doll, you’re just a lil’ rusty,” he chided.  Dabi lined up his next shot and sank another ball.

“How are you so good at this?” you complained.  “And how am I drunker than you??”

“Experience,” he replied.

You mimicked his response with a bratty tone and a scrunched-up face. “Experience. Please.”

You lined up your shot, and this time you hit the ball, but barely, the cue stick sideswiping. It caused the ball to spin off at the wrong angle before bouncing off one of Dabi’s, causing his to roll into the side pocket.

“Hey, thanks for that.” he commented.

“I swear to God, Dabi. If you don’t stop with your commentary, it’s gonna be your balls next.”

Dabi burst into laughter at your empty threat.  “Based on your hits tonight, I don’t think I’m too worried about it.”

You gave a shocked laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“Oh, c’mon doll. Don’t be like that.  Tell you what, I’ll give you a free shot.” He coaxed as he leaned on his cue stick.

You narrowed your eyes at him and took your position again.  Just as you were about to strike, Dabi interrupted.

“Hold on.”

“What?”

“Your form is all wrong.”

“Shut up, no it’s not.”

Dabi put his hands up in defense. “Okay, sure.  Go for it.”

You squinted at him, half to get your vision to focus and half to glare at him.  You repositioned yourself again, but now doubt and two failures loomed over you.  Finally, you cursed and stood up.

“Damn it.  Okay, fine.  Show me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not holding your cue stick right,” he commented.

“What do you mean?”

Dabi modeled for you. You tried to imitate, but hand-eye coordination was getting more and more difficult. He chuckled at your attempt and leaned his cue stick against the table.  Then he came up behind you, his hands on your hips.

His touch sent a shock of pleasure through you, and you sidestepped out of his hold.  “What are you doing??” you demanded, your eyes wide.

“Relax, doll,” he laughed. “I’m gonna help you.”

You let him get in position behind you, his body lining up with yours.  You could feel his breath on your ear, and it made every nerve sing at peak frequency.  He placed his hands over yours, setting up your hand along your cue stick.

“You hold it like this, and...” -- Dabi slowly moved the stick back and forth within your hands -- “you hit it like this.” He pointed to the middle and the bottom of the cue ball. “You’ll want to hit the ball here or here. Got it?”

You glanced at him, and instantly realized how close his face was to yours, your nose practically brushing his when you turned your head to look him in the eye.  His hand was on your waist, and all you could think about was closing the distance to kiss him.  But he broke his gaze with you and nodded at the pool table.

“Give it a try.”

Dabi stayed next to you, his body lined up with yours as you lined up your shot and took it the way he showed you. This time, you hit the ball you wanted, but it bounced off the edge, and hit the eight ball.

“Wha... NO!” you yelled as the black ball rolled into a pocket.

That was it. That was the game.  Dabi won.

“Wow. That was actually impressive how bad that was.”

You smacked his chest with the back of your hand. “I told you I was too drunk for this.”

“Hey, at least you hit the ball…”

You stuck your tongue out at him and took another sip of your drink. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you.

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Good,” you replied with a smile.

“Good. Let’s try again.”

“Nooo,” you whined.

“C’mon, don’t be a sore loser. I thought you wanted to have fun,” he teased.  “Besides, that was barely a game.”

“Ugh, fine.  But don’t they have like... cards here or something?”

“I’d probably win at that too.  Something tells me my poker face is better than yours.”

“You are so full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Dabi chuckled as he set up the balls again.  “You break this time.”

You lined up your stick and hit the cue ball, sending the balls scattering.

Time passed as you played, Dabi refilling your drink when you asked as you bantered with him between turns.  Your skills improved slightly, with Dabi giving you tips here and there.  But the progress was hindered by the way you had difficulty focusing and the way your body didn’t always move the way you intended it to.  You made it through two games, with Dabi beating you both times before you finally gave up, the floor beneath your feet pitching much more than it had before.

“I quit,” you finally said.

You leaned on your cue stick, your body swaying slightly. Dabi was next to you, so you took the opportunity to lean against his chest to ground yourself.  But between the alcohol, stuffy bar, and his body heat, you pushed him away almost immediately.

“Ugh, you’re too hot,” you complained.

Dabi chuckled.  “Come on…”

He took you back to the bar and you sat down onto the barstool with less grace than you’d had before. It wasn’t your fault; the damn thing seemed to move.  There were no other seats again, so he stood next to you like before.

You laid your head on the counter, letting the cool, smooth surface soothe your forehead.

“She okay?” the bartender asked.

Dabi nudged you. “You okay?” he repeated.

With your head still down, you gave a thumbs up. 

“She’s good,” he replied.

You zoned out to the sound of the bar noise and the music playing, your body swaying slightly to the beat.  A moment later, a glass of water appeared in front of you.

“What’s this?” you demanded.

“Water, drink up,” Dabi ordered.

You shook your head. “Nuh-uh.”

“Your call... you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Where’s my drink?” you asked, looking around bleary-eyed.

“You finished it.”

“Oh.  It was good, can I have another?”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment.  Then he pushed the water glass towards you.  “Drink, doll.  You’ll thank me later. Then I’ll order more.”

You grumbled but drank it anyway.  As promised, Dabi ordered you another drink, and you gave a happy wiggle as you began to drink it.

Dabi leaned against the bar counter with his head propped in his hand.  He stared at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“I like you like this.”

“What? Drunk?” you teased.

“Happy,” he corrected.

You stilled for a moment as you looked at him. 

“It’s because I’m with you,” you confessed.

Your answer seemed to surprise him, his eyes widening slightly as his grin faltered.  He gave a scoff.  “I’m sure the alcohol is helping too.”

“Shut up and take the compliment,” you retorted.  “I’m happy with you.  You make me happy.”

Dabi’s cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you were making him grin, the bruise and the torn skin thrumming low.  “You’re repeating yourself now.”

“It’s so you’ll listen to me,” you replied adamantly as you took another sip.  Your thoughts were more fluid now, your usual filters and reservations carried away on the current of booze in your system.

“I think…” you started thoughtfully, “I thought going back to the hide out would help me feel better. But...”

“But it didn’t.”

You shook your head. “I looked at that place and I just felt... lonely.”

“And you don’t feel lonely now?” Dabi asked.

You shook your head again and leaned against his shoulder.  “I feel safe.”

Dabi froze under the contact as your confessions fought with his own denials.  You weren’t safe with him. He was unstable and violent and he didn’t deserve your trust.

But you were smiling now, and he couldn’t say that.

He turned his body towards you slightly to put his arm around your shoulders, and you nuzzled comfortably against his chest.

“You ready to go back?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you whined.

“You sure? You’re looking awfully shiftfaced now.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Says the girl falling asleep over her glass...”

You sat up and pushed against his chest with your hands. “Shut up.” Then, your eyes lit up with an idea. “Oh! I know!  You know what I want?”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow at you.  “More alcohol?”

You pointed at him. “Yes.  But also, I want to dance.”

Dabi’s grin vanished immediately. “What??”

“I want to go dancing!” you repeated.  “C’mon Dabi, pleeaassee?”

Dabi stared at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. 

Dabi was familiar with the club scene.  He used to visit it frequently before the League, chasing quick highs and whatever chick would spare him a passing glance in an effort to drown his pain in a few cheap hours of euphoria.  He knew just the place to go, a place that was safe for people like him, where they didn’t really care about IDs or police records, where cash and drugs were the only currency that mattered.

But it’d been a long time since he’d been there, and the place was filled with temptations and potential dangers. It was no place for someone like you.

Besides, you already looked ready to fall over.

“I bet you can’t even walk straight.”

“Yes I can!”

“Okay, prove it.  If you can walk out of here without help and without bumping into anyone, then I’ll take you dancing.”

It was a tall order as the world tilted on its axis around you, but you were stubborn and determined.

Dancing.  To be able to finally move your body, to feel the freedom of music against your skin.  You hadn’t realized how wound tight you’d been since you’d lost everything and joined the League.  It’d been nonstop healing, and sneaking around, and hiding away.  Dancing, even for a little bit, to lose yourself to movement and be just another face in the crowd, sounded like just what you needed.

With determination, you stood up from your stool.  The motion instantly made you lightheaded, and you swayed on your feet, balance eluding you.  Dabi’s arms were out in an instant, catching you, and you fell against his chest in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“No, no,” you giggled. “I can do this.”

“Doll, you already failed the test.”

“Shh!” you put a finger to his lips, but now the giggles had you and you couldn’t stop them.

Dabi’s arms were around your waist as your arms hung around his neck.  You swayed in his hold, the motion soothing.  Your vision focused on him, and for once you allowed yourself to blatantly stare at his beauty, at the shape of his jaw, the color of his eyes, even the staples along his cheeks. Your thoughts made their way seamlessly from your brain to your mouth.

“You’re really hot,” you cooed.

“Yeah, you told me earlier.”

“No, I mean, like... you’re hot.  Like attractive, hot.  It’s unfair how hot you are.”

Dabi, for all of his self-control, couldn’t stop the heat from warming his cheeks, and he forced a laugh as he began to untangle your fingers from his neck.  The way your eyes were looking at him, the way your tongue peeked out to wet your lips...

“Okay, now I know you’re shitfaced.”

“Shut up, it’s true.”

“Everyone looks more attractive when you’re drunk.”

You looked around at all the other faces at the bar.  “That’s not true...” you muttered.

Dabi laughed again while internally his mind was spinning.  You were going to be the death of him.  God, he wished you were saying this shit while you were sober... he wondered if you’d even remember any of it.

He sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

“But what about the dancing??”

“We’ll have to save it for another time.”

You pouted as Dabi began to lead you out of the bar.  The realization that your evening of fun was coming to an end made the weight of dread return to your shoulders.  Tears pricked your eyes as you began to leave.

You didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want to stop being with Dabi, spending time with him like this.  You didn’t want to go back to that stuffy hotel with your medical bag and PTSD waiting for you.

Once you stepped outside, Dabi let go of your hand and walked ahead of you.  The cold night air began to clear your head slightly. Everything was coated in rainwater now as the low, heavy clouds passed over you, painted in the yellowish-brown light of the city; but there was a lull in the rainfall that gave a much-needed reprieve and brought a heavy hush upon the quiet street compared to the boisterous bar inside.

You inhaled the air deep into your lungs, letting the damp crispness cool your blood. You stared ahead of you at Dabi, donned in his black coat, his black hair lit under the streetlamp. He turned to look at you, and for a moment you stood still and stared. He was picturesque, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“What?” he asked.

“I...” you swallowed, a million different responses piling onto your tongue at once.

I don’t want to go back.

I want to be with you a little longer.

I want you to kiss me.

I never should have left last night...

God, you cared for him. You cared for him more than you had let yourself realize. But now, here away from the chaos, with your worries subdued under liquor and fresh air, you understood just how incredibly head over heels you were for him. It scared you, because he was not someone you ever thought you’d fall for.  He was self-destructive, broken, and single-minded in his obsession.  It left little space in his heart for anything else.  But he was also intelligent, highly self-aware, and surprisingly kind, in his own way.  You’d begun to see a side to him that you hadn’t known existed before, and it was a side that only you ever seemed to witness, something that was reserved special for you. You felt protected by it, cared for.  In a world that had tried to erase you, he somehow made you feel... wanted.

All you could think as you stood there unable to answer, was that you wanted to be with him always.

Dabi’s dark brows furrowed and he stepped close to you, his eyes looking over your face through his black bangs.  His thumb came up and brushed fresh tears from your cheek.

“Why are you cryin’ again, doll?” His voice was deep, coating you like honey, and you closed your eyes to let it wash over you.

You hadn’t realized you were crying; you hadn’t felt the tears fall, too focused on your emotions as your skin hummed like an aura around you.  You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your cheek, even though he’d already lowered his hand.

You shook your head in disbelief.  So much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say any of it.  Not without scaring him away.  If he learned how deeply you felt about him...

You’re not my type.

You understood those words more clearly, now.  It wasn’t that you weren’t his type; it was that Dabi didn’t have a type. He wasn’t someone who would commit, who would settle down. He couldn’t even picture a future for himself beyond taking down his father.

But you didn’t want to face that either, because that train of thought only led to more heartache. What you wanted was to remember the way he put his arm over your shoulder, the way he wiped your tears from your cheeks, from the way he’d hovered over you the night before, his eyes drinking you in as if you were all he wanted.  You wanted to hold his hand, to lean against him as you sat together, to bask in his attention a bit longer.

“I...” you started again. “I’m not ready.  I’m not ready to go back.”

Dabi stared at you, his expression unreadable, and you could tell he was deciding on what to do next. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, and checked the time on his phone.  It was late, but not terribly; there were at least another couple of hours before the public transportation systems shut down for the night.

“You wanna dance that badly?” he asked.

What you wanted was more time to pretend. To pretend that this was more than what it was, to pretend that you were two regular people enjoying each other’s company and seeing where things went without worry or consequence about what sat on the horizon.

“I... I just want a little more time,” you whispered, “to feel normal.”

Dabi stepped even closer, his body inches from yours. His long fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his eyes following his action.

“You’re the most normal girl I’ve ever known.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the odd compliment, and Dabi’s lips turned up at the corners slightly.

“If we stay out longer, I might need more of your pills.  Do you have any on you?”

You anticipated this possibility and pulled the small Ziplock bag out of your pocket.  Dabi took the pills you offered, noting the few remaining.  You tried not to stare too intently at the way he placed them onto his tongue and swallowed them, but you were pretty sure you were failing at being discrete.

He put his arm over your shoulder. “Come on.”

Warmth swelled from his touch, and a great wave of euphoric victory washed over you. Your smile came back.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Dancing.”

Dabi led you towards the train station where he grabbed a quick snack from the vending machine and a drink.  Once you were seated in the empty train car, you ate as you watched the city lights pass by. While you watched the city, Dabi watched you.  He watched the way your eyes lit up, the longing in them as you looked out at what used to be your home, at a world that you’d been cut off from.

Normal.  You wanted to be normal.  And Dabi meant what he’d said. You were as normal as they came. You never belonged with the League, but you did it out of necessity. The way you talked about it made it sound like a cage, and the more Dabi thought about it, the more he realized that for you, it probably was.

He wondered what you would be like if you could have your freedom again. If you could exist without fear, without worry, without pain.  How much brighter would your smile be? How much happier would you feel?  He could picture it; you, successful and happy, with a career, a home, a family... you seemed like the type that would want a family.

But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t picture himself there with you.  His future didn’t hold the potential that yours did, and he didn’t want the things that he assumed you wanted.  No matter which way he looked at it, he didn’t belong there, his dark shadow blocking out the light that you desperately needed to flourish.

And yet, for some reason, you always shined brightest when you were with him.  You were happiest with him.  You’d even said so with your own words.  The safety that you’d been seeking before wasn’t at the hotel; it was with him.

His mind and his heart couldn’t reconcile the two realities.  They co-existed in his consciousness, yet their edges never touched.

You wanted to feel normal, but Dabi knew that normal would no longer be possible for you.  Not after what had happened to you, how they had tried to erase you.  There was nothing for you to go back to, not with hero society being what it was, the status quo still locked in place and the people who hurt you still in power.

Dabi mourned his past while you mourned your future.

So, you wanted to pretend tonight.  Dabi couldn’t blame you.  That’s why he changed his mind, even though discomfort and warning bells nagged at the back of his consciousness.  That was why he took your pills so that he could stave off any temptation he might feel once you both reached your new destination. It was the only option available that he had in order to give you want you wanted.

He’d let you pretend. And maybe... just for a little bit... Dabi could pretend too.  He could set aside his identities of Dabi and Touya, stashing them away to a deep, dark place inside himself.  They would never be gone from him entirely but, maybe tonight, he could quiet their screaming for just a little while. He could pretend, take on a third, unnamed identity.  No one important, just some guy having a night out with a girl that he had a crush on.

You stepped off the train with Dabi into a different neighborhood.  More bars lined the streets here, more people walked the sidewalks. The heavy thrums of music spilled out of open club doors into the streets where people lined up for entry.

Dabi led you along with his arm over your shoulder, keeping you close to him.  It was as if he were making sure you didn’t get separated from him, lost in the throngs of drunken passersby. And it was a good call, too... you were still very much tipsy, your balance uneven as you followed along. Your eyes kept getting distracted by the things around you, and Dabi had to guide you around oncoming strangers more than once.

“Careful, doll,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” you said off-handedly. His hand gave your shoulder a small squeeze.

You were looking around, trying to guess which club he would take you to.  Instead, he turned down a dark alley.

“Wait, what...?”

“Just trust me.”

So you did, letting him guide you until you found a back door entrance with a line of strangers waiting.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a special place for people like us,” he replied. Then he grinned down at you.  “What, do you think villains are just constantly fighting and stealing all the time?”

You smiled and leaned against him as you waited.  The closer you got, the more anxious you felt, a mixture of fear and excitement. You could feel the music in your feet now, could hear how the building seemed to vibrate from the bass that spilled out of the open door.

“You still got those extra pills on you?” Dabi asked, his eyes ahead.

“Yeah, why?”

“Hand ‘em over.”

You hesitated, and Dabi looked down at you.

“They’re not for me, doll. Money’s not the only currency here, and that stack of cash I had is gonna dry up if we’re not careful. We still gotta be able to get back later.”

Discomfort stirred across your skin, but you pulled out the pills and handed the bag to him anyway.

“Good girl,” he muttered as he pocketed them.

The reaction your body had to those two simple words was astronomical, heat washing over you and moisture pooling between your legs.  It took you by surprise, and you bit your lip to keep yourself composed as you took another step forward in the line.

It wasn’t long before it was your turn to go in. You had expected them to check ID, but instead, Dabi talked to the man guarding the door in low whispers. A few words and an exchange of bills and the pills and you were finally in.

The atmosphere smothered you instantly, invading all of your senses.  The noise, the smell, the heat, the vibrations, the flashing lights and smoke... It was overwhelming at first, but Dabi kept his arm over you, guiding you through it.  Your eyes took it all in, watching people dancing, grinding, making out.  You averted your eyes, realizing exactly what you’d gotten yourself into and who you were with.

You turned your attention back ahead when Dabi stopped, and you realized he’d found the bar.

“I’m gonna need a drink before we do this,” he commented, his voice loud to override the noise. “You want one?”

Yes. Yes, you definitely needed another drink.

You nodded at him.

“Whad’ya want? Better make it strong, this is probably our last one for tonight,” he replied as he checked the money left in his hand.  The stack was significantly thinner than when you first started.

You gave him your order, picking something that would taste awful but be highly effective.  He grinned at you and gave the order to the bartender.  A minute later, you both had your own drinks. You took a sip of yours and grimaced.

“You’re not gonna scold me?” he teased, holding his drink up for emphasis.

You scoffed.  “Would it make a difference?” you asked.

Dabi laughed.  “Not really.”

“Exactly.”

Dabi’s shoulder bumped yours playfully.  “Don’t worry, doll.  I’ll get you home safe.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.  “I know you will,” you replied.

You watched the people on the dance floor with longing as you sipped at your drink, waiting for the effects to kick in. You needed to be drunk enough to not care about how you danced or who was watching. You need to be drunk enough to be able to nearly forget yourself and all your troubles.

While you watched the dance floor, Dabi kept an eye out for any potential trouble.  His eyes caught a couple popping pills in their mouths and chasing it with alcohol.  Further away, a group of girls bent over a table, snorting white powder into their noses off their makeup mirrors.  In this place, no one cared what anyone else did, as long as they didn’t start any fights.

Dabi’s arm around your shoulder tightened as he looked away, angling you slightly so the groups were behind you.  He didn’t want you to see it. He didn’t want you to see any of it. Because as soon as you did, he knew you’d want to leave, your worry over him greater than your desire for freedom.

And Dabi understood why. He could feel the pull of it, the drag of the old familiar behaviors brought forth by old memories of a time when he didn’t care about consequences.  If he were by himself, he probably wouldn’t be able to resist it, the temptation too great.  But this time, he had you with him, and it was you that kept him grounded.

It was excruciating waiting; he finished his drink long before yours, knowing the sooner he finished it, the sooner it would hit, and the sooner he’d be able to sober up later. It mixed with your pills in his gut and he could feel the lightheadedness, could feel the numbness settle over him comfortably. His scars didn’t hurt, and the headaches and nausea that came and went each time your medication wore off was once again silent.

But he still had enough awareness to realize how stupid he was being, the risk he was taking by bringing you here.  He was being a damn idiot just to make you happy and keep you smiling. What if he fucked up again? What if he couldn’t stop himself? What if he got caught up in something and you ended up getting hurt tonight?

That single possibility lingered in his mind, and he used it to shackle himself to you, using your presence as a lifeline.  He refused to let it happen.  He’d never be able to forgive himself if it did.

He watched as you finally finished the last of your drink.  Your body was loose and untethered again, and you swayed subconsciously to the music.

“You ready?” he asked.

The sooner he could get you out onto the dance floor, the easier all of this would be for him.  He’d let you dance, you’d get what you needed out of your system, and then he’d take you home.

He just needed to not see it. He needed to be distracted.  He needed to stay focused on you.

You stared at him, eyes wide with hesitancy.  But there was longing there as well, hidden behind the glassiness of your eyes.

“Yeah,” you finally answered.

He let you lead the way, allowing you to pick your way through the crowd to find a space where you could squeeze in.  Dabi followed behind you, his hand on your waist to make sure you didn’t get lost and to make sure no one else tried to approach you.

The music was upbeat and fast paced, the kind that made people want to jump and sway and sing. Your body fell into it naturally, carried along on the beat.

Dabi stood, his body frozen to distraction as he watched you move.  Your eyes were closed, every part of you in motion, and he could tell that you were happy as your mouth sang the lyrics.  It was as if he weren’t even there, or more like you weren’t there anymore, just a vessel through which the music moved through. It was a tide that you ebbed and flowed with, and Dabi was the rock.

You loved to dance. Dabi had never even thought about it before; he’d never once asked himself what it was that you liked, what you enjoyed. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how little he really knew about you. It only made the curiosity burn brighter, hotter.

What else made you happy?

You pulled him back to reality with a tug of your hand, your eyes and face alight with joy.

“Dance with me!” you pleaded.

So, he did, his body coming up to fit behind yours. He let you set the motions, let your hips lead his as his arm wrapped around your waist.  His body burned like fire everywhere your bodies touched, and he let it consume him, let himself get lost between you and the music, finding solace in a place where time had no meaning and all that mattered was the movement, the rhythm, the feel and smell of your skin.

The songs changed, blending from one to the next as you danced together, heady from alcohol and arousal.  You stopped thinking, you stopped worrying. You let yourself drift in happiness with Dabi pressed against you, his body like a brand against your skin that burned itself into your soul.  You were tingling, your skin singing everywhere.  

The palms of Dabi’s hands grazed the curve of your shoulders and down your arms until they found their home on your hips, his fingers curling around and bringing you flush against him as you danced.  The movement of your bodies were different now, changing, evolving.  And faintly, you realized that a threshold was being crossed, a line drawn in the sand that was being etched away with each hot breath across the shell of your ear.  You could feel Dabi’s belt buckle against your lower back, could feel the denim of his jeans and the firmness beneath it that had made itself at home against the curve of your ass, and all you could think of was how you wanted more, more, more.

Every inch of you began to tighten like a coil, and you weren’t the only one.  Dabi lowered his head until his nose was brushing the crook of your neck, his lips ghosting over your shoulder but never quite touching, never actually reaching out and...

Your movements together slowed to a standstill as people continued to dance around you.  Dabi tucked his nose behind the shell of your ear, the breath from his lips tickling your neck in ragged gusts.

He was holding back. Every fiber of Dabi’s being was pulled tight as he fought every natural urge that coursed through his veins.

Your hand reached up to tangle your fingers into his hair soothingly.  It was hot and sweaty, the strands sticking between your fingers. You scratched at his scalp, and he hummed, the vibration echoing in your own chest.

“You okay?” you said just loud enough for him to hear.

He growled low and his grip tightened, fingers digging into the plush of your hips, causing your breath to hitch.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You turned in his arms to look at him, and he stared back, his ocean eyes glowing with hunger.  You put your arms around his neck, and you moved in a gentle sway, even as the music continued to pound loudly and quickly around you.

“Am I now?” you grinned.

Dabi’s eyes narrowed at you.

His hands gripped your ass and pushed you tight against him until there was no mistaking just how crazy you were making him, just how badly he wanted you.

“Yeah. You are.”

His action stole a little gasp from your lips, and he grinned devilishly.  It only emboldened you, eager to finally rip away the thin, false veneer of a boundary that no longer existed between you.

“So...” you said as you put your forehead to his, your noses bumping gently, “what’re you gonna do about it?”

He could feel your hot breath, could smell the alcohol on your tongue.  He squeezed his eyes shut, his brows furrowed.  You were drunk, he was drunk and slightly high, and none of this was supposed to be happening.

He shouldn’t do this, he shouldn’t...

He didn’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret this, to write this off as a mistake.  He wanted this to mean something.

But then you whined his name, the same way you did last night, with that needy, pleading tone that made his heart drop in his chest and his cock throb against his jeans.

“Dabi...”

Fuck it.

Dabi’s resolve shattered into a million pieces, and he kissed you.

Pleasure erupted like wildfire and you gasped against his lips.  Your hands behind his neck instantly tightened around him as you slotted against his body like a magnet. His arms tightened around you, his hands following up and down the curve of your back before returning to cup your ass and push you tight against his groin where his need was heaviest.  Your need was heavy too, pulsing in your veins and throbbing between your legs until you were sure you’d drown.

Your mouth opened hungrily, and Dabi was done for, his tongue meeting yours as he kissed you fiercely. His hand came up to cradle the back of your neck, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away as he drank you in.

You were lightheaded, on the brink of fainting, when your lips finally parted.  Dabi stared at you, his pupils dilated, his lips wet.

“Wanna get outta here?” he finally asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

Dabi grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the club into the night air.  The cold chilled the sweat on your skin, your hearing muffled from the aftereffects of the club music.  Everything held a strange lucidity now, despite the alcohol still rampant in your veins.  It was as if a heavy veil had finally been lifted and you could see the beauty of the world around you, all of its edges in crystal clear clarity, and at the center of it was him.

You practically had to jog to keep up, your head still swimming.  You turned the corner and managed to find yourself on a quieter street, with less people. He led you down it, making another turn into another nondistinct alleyway, much quieter than the last without any back entrances to clubs or bars.

You needed to kiss him again.  You needed it like you needed air.

You tugged on his arm, yanking him back toward you.  You met the incoming momentum of his body with your hand on his cheek and your lips on his, hot and eager.

He kissed you back instantly, his tongue opening your mouth again and he backed you up against the wet brick wall, his palms exploring your body.  Your hips, your thighs... he pressed himself against you, and you moaned at the feeling of his thigh pressing between your legs, your hips rolling.

Dabi’s mouth broke from yours to trail wet kisses to your jawline and down your neck.  Your fingers gripped his hair, your body moving of its own accord, finally cut loose of its strings.

But suddenly, a wave of unpleasant heat began to wash over you, and the lightheadedness from before evolved into full-on spinning.

“Dabi...” you warned.

“Hm?” he hummed, too engrossed in the feel of you to hear the shift in your tone.

You could feel it, the way your stomach rolled.  All that drinking, and dancing, and running...

You were going to be sick.

“Dabi stop –”

You shoved him away just in time to bend over to the side and vomit your alcohol all over the ground.

“Oh shit.” Dabi’s arm was around you in an instant, holding you up as you emptied your stomach, his other hand brushing your hair back and out of your face.  “It’s okay, doll. I gotcha.”

The lust in Dabi’s veins evaporated immediately, his mental fog receding as he held you while your body convulsed.

Realization crashed over him on all that had just happened.

He shouldn’t have done any of this.

He shouldn’t have taken you that club, he shouldn’t have danced with you, he shouldn’t have touched you like that...

And he definitely shouldn’t have kissed you.  Not while you were both drunk off your asses, where you couldn’t tell where the alcohol ended and your feelings began.

Fuck, you were too important to him to fuck this up.

It was too late now. He could still taste you on his tongue, could recall in stunning clarity the feel of your body beneath his palms, the way it had bent to his will.  He’d finally had a taste of you and he craved more. He’d unlocked something within himself that couldn’t be put back, had given away something that couldn’t be returned.

You moaned miserably once you were done and wiped your mouth.  You propped yourself against the wall with your body bent and your hands on your legs.

“Ughh...” you groaned.

Dabi crouched in front of you so he could look up into your face.  “You okay?”

You looked at him with tired eyes and shook your head.  “Nnnnope. Everything’s...” – you whirled your finger in a circular motion – “ssspinning.”  You lowered your head again.  “Oh, God. That last drink hit hard.”

Dabi took your hand in his.  “Let’s get you home.”

“Yyyup,” you replied. You made to stand up, but the nausea came back.  “Woah, woah... hang on... I’mmm gonna... need another m-minute.”  Your words were slurred and your movements slow.  You bent back over, your head low again as you breathed deep breaths in and out.

Dabi crouched in front of you again.  He placed his hands on your calves and rubbed his thumbs in small circles into the denim.

You glanced up at him and a drunk giggle escaped your lips.  “Totally sexy right now, aren’t I?”

Dabi smirked.  “You’re always sexy.”

You straightened up slightly and breathed in through your nose and out your mouth as the nausea began to subside and the spinning slowed.  You leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes closed.

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” you joked.

Dabi stood up and brushed your hair away from your face. “Obviously that was a fuckin’ lie.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

You were spiraling now, all the alcohol you didn’t throw up running amok in your system, and it was late. Dabi put his arm around your shoulder to keep you steady.

“C’mon, doll... I think we’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

“Mmm... I like when you call me doll,” you hummed.

“I know you do.”

“And sweetheart.”

“Yep.”

Dabi started to help you out of the alley, but you stumbled, your steps wobbly.  You broke out into a fit of giggles but had to pause again as another wave of nausea washed over you.

“You gonna throw up again?” he asked.

“I dunno.  I mean... I’m pretty sure there’s nothing left to throw up.”  You looked around you, the surroundings unfamiliar.  “How far away is home?”

“We gotta get to the train.”

“Ugghhh... too far,” you whined. Exhaustion was coming on fast and hard.  You wanted to lay down on the ground and sleep.

A raindrop struck the top of your head, then another.  More and more began to fall.

Dabi cursed.  “Ah, shit...”

You held your hand out, watching as they landed on your palm, your fingers. You opened your mouth and caught a couple drops on your tongue.

Dabi stared at you, his breath stuck in his chest. 

You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  And, for at least a little while tonight, you were his.  He watched, memorizing the nuances of you, your laugh, your smile, the color of your eyes, your hair, every beauty and every imperfection locked away into a safe place on the possibility that tomorrow everything would be different.

Tomorrow you may not want him at all.

So, for now, he’d enjoy however much was left of the night, even if all that was left was laughing, stumbling, and dancing in the rain.

The drops began to fall faster, heavier.  It began to flatten his hair and soak into his clothes.  You were oblivious, your face tilted up towards the falling rain, as you held your arms out.  You did a small spin but stumbled, and Dabi caught you in his arms before you could hit the pavement.

“Whoops!” You giggled.

“Shitfaced,” he teased.

“Happy,” you replied. You put your arms around his torso, your head resting against his chest. “Happy.” You repeated again, your voice softer.

Dabi allowed his arms to wrap around you, allowed his quirk to warm his body slightly to stave off the cold for the both of you.

He had to get you back, before the trains shut down.

“Come on doll, we gotta hurry.” Dabi grabbed your hand and began dragging you down the street.  You followed him, your feet barely able to keep up.

As the rain soaked through your clothes, you began to shiver.  Puddles formed in the street, small streams trickling down the gutters.  By the time you’d managed to reach the train station, you were both soaked.  Dabi managed to get you onto the last train for the night.  You sat down together and you began rubbing your arms, your teeth chattering slightly.

Dabi took off his stitched coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here.”

You wrapped it around you gratefully and snuggled against him, your arms wrapped around his.

As the train began to move, it rocked ever so slightly, back and forth.  Dabi allowed his cheek to rest against your wet head as he watched the city pass outside.  He felt an unusual sense of quiet in this moment, a peace that he’d never felt before. The usual darkness in him was always there, lurking, but for once, he didn’t care about it, didn’t look at it. He knew this night was wrought with impermanence, and he told himself that he would pretend.

After a silence that lasted for eternity, Dabi allowed himself to speak from a place that he usually kept quiet, a place he’d never before given credence to.

“I hope you remember this...” he whispered against your hair.

You didn’t answer. The mixture of alcohol, exhaustion, warmth, and the movement of the train had lulled you to sleep.  It forced a small loneliness to settle on Dabi’s shoulders.

It had been fun while it lasted.

 He had to shake you awake once the train reached your stop.  You were half asleep as you followed him off and leaned against him the entire walk home.  Dabi had half a mind to give you a piggyback ride to save time, but the healing wound on his back itched as a reminder.  His scars didn’t hurt terribly yet, but he remained cautious, aware that your quirk had burned off long ago. Now it was only your pills that were keeping the excruciating pain at bay.  He could feel them lurking beneath the surface, waiting to wreak havoc on his body again.

It was an ordeal getting you in and up the stairs.  You’d gravitated towards the couch in the common room as soon as you saw it, and whined at him when he redirected you to the stairs.

“Elevator,” you whined.

The old machinery squeaked and rattled, and Dabi didn’t want to wake the others just to deal with curious looks and even more curious questions.

“Too noisy.” Dabi replied.

So, he helped you up the steps of the stairwell, catching you when you faltered.

By the third stumble, your giggles returned.

“Shh, shut up,” he whispered.

Your giggle turned into a cackle, unable to control yourself, and Dabi put his hand over your mouth to try to quiet you.  Your tongue stuck out and licked his palm, running across his staples.

He yanked his hand away, repulsed.  “Ugh! You’re disgusting.”

You cackled some more, and your voice echoed off the stairwell. You clamped your own hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter as your eyes squeezed shut, tears stinging the corners.

Dabi couldn’t help but chuckle at you.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered.  “Come on, you idiot.”

He finally had to put your arm around his shoulder and his arm around your waist, and your giggles finally subsided, the occasional chuckle escaping your lips.

Dabi managed to get you through your bedroom door and plopped you down on top of your bed, where you lay sprawled out, your eyelids heavy.

“Dabi...” you slurred.

Dabi began helping you out of your shoes.  “Yeah?”

“Did we kiss?”

Dabi froze, his hands in the middle of peeling off your wet socks.  It was as if like you’d shot a bullet through his chest, and now his heart was bleeding out, leaving nothing but emptiness inside.

You didn’t remember.

You already forgot.

Dabi stared at you for a moment as you laid back with your arm over your eyes to block the light. His jaw clenched.

“No, doll.”

“Aww...” you pouted. “I thought we did...”

“You must’ve been dreaming on the train.”

“Mmm, it was a really good dream...”

You rolled to your side and curled in on yourself, tears in your eyes as you stared at your bedside lamp. You were still wrapped up in his coat, with your own soaked jacket underneath.

“C’mon, doll.”

Dabi made you sit up and began taking his coat off you.  You rubbed at your eyes sleepily.  As soon as he got your own jacket off, you fell back sideways into the bed.  Dabi grabbed your blanket and laid it over you.

“I wish I were your type...” you whispered.

Dabi froze for a moment, his eyes on you.  But you didn’t look at him; it was almost as if you were talking to yourself.

It stung him how little you remembered from your night together.  But Dabi accepted it bitterly, playing along.  Maybe it was for the best.  Maybe tomorrow you wouldn’t hate him.

“No you don’t,” he replied quietly.

“Yes I do....”

Your eyes closed, and Dabi watched and waited.  But they didn’t open again, and your breaths fell soft and even. You’d fallen asleep.

A heavy sigh escaped out of his nose, and he crouched at the edge of your bed, his arms on your mattress with his chin in his fist as he watched you sleep.

His type.  It was the second time you’d brought it up that night, even though you didn’t remember.  He remembered the jab he’d thrown at you ages ago; he remembered how you reacted. It was his first real hint that showed him you were interested in him.

But then everything fell apart and you put him back together piece by piece. And it was all different after that.  Dabi had assumed that his little comment no longer mattered; that it had become a thing of the past, once you’d gotten to know him and all of his problems.  After all, why the hell would you even want to be his type anyway?

But you did, and now his careless words from before were back to bite him in the ass.  Because now he had only one type, and it was you.

And you weren’t going to remember a thing.

-----------------------------------

Chapter 17

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[el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle]

Which characters do you like the most and the least?

Hiii!!

Oh I love all the most important characters, although for different reasons! (I'm assuming this is about S1 lol)

I love Betty so much because I see myself in her a lot, which is something that I've always struggled to do with media representation with female characters. Growing up with such harsh insecurities, a family always trying to cheer us up about it, being so clumsy and a bit awkward, the self esteem issues, and even by the same first experience with a relationship that turned out to be fake! (Not fully the same, but something along those lines). When I first watched ysblf I felt very much like Betty pre change. Now I look back on it and still remember how it all felt! I see so much of me in Betty as a girl growing in the 2000s with lots of self esteem issues and my family as my backbone (although Betty is a much better, much smarter, and much a more patient person than me, by far lmao.) Leaving that aside, she's a genuinely good person. I love her real sorority, her genuine desire to help the Ecomoda employees, her love for her family and for Nicolás. I also love that fire in her. She's stubborn but determined. She's not perfect and allowed herself to be consumed by rage and her emotions because she's no angel. She never was. She slept with an engaged man knowing he was engaged, and she did it because she loved him. She accepted a bribe, and had it not being for her dad talking her out of it, she would have gotten the money because her family goes above anything else. She's fully human but so compassionate and funny and with so much love to give!

I love Armando Mendoza because he's so far from perfect and goes absolutely against the Prince Charming trope, but grows throughout the series and you can see how his actions torture him. He's so worried about not being enough that he ends up proving that he wasn't. He's driven by ego and fear and insecurity, and yells and threatens because he's so insecure in his respectability and leadership and deep down knows he's messing up (which is also a pain in the ego because he wants everything to be perfect to prove himself). He seems so big and threatening but he's actually incredibly mentally fragile. He has very little discipline and is so quick to get his defenses up... but he also has a weak spot for those under his charge. He knows he has power and doesn't want to abuse it. He's pretty much like an addict, always messing up and hurting the people he loves but can't stop it. He wants to be good but doesn't know how. He treats his gf like shit because he doesn't want her at all but he doesn't have the guts to face the consequences of leaving her. He doesn't want to hurt her but can't find another way to deal with her. They bring the worst out of each other.

I love Mario Calderón becuase he's a horrible person lmao. He's so calm and happy and charming that you's think you found actual prince charming, just to end up with a wicked witch lmao. His happiness and friendliness isn't sincere. He's too observant, and can quickly find people's weaknesses and doesn't care about exploiting them. He'll lurk in the corner and then insert ideas into Armando's mind. His biggest flaw is that he thinks he's much smarter than he actually is, but also is always suspicious of people around him. He's always making schemes but never thinks things through on the long run. He's totally okay with using and discarding people because he thinks they'd do the same if they could. He's totally okay with fanning the flames of paranoia in Armando's mind. He fears nothing but public humiliation, mainly because he likely lives off public perception. He's also hilarous and. Always makes me laugh!

I love Marcela because she's both so wrong and so right, and I can't fully blame her for either. She's sickly attahced to this man that she desperately wants but doesn't love, because she can't stand him or have anything in common with him, but NEEDS him because at this point it's a matter of principle, of pride, of ego, and most important, of family. He's her everything: her childhood companion, her boss, her fellow executive, her fellow owner of the company her mom and dad created, her basically adopted brother. They grew up together. It's a lifetime of attachment. Her own basically adoptive parents keep telling her all the time they're perfect for each other! But she's also so deeply resentful of him because he treats her like shit. She, just like him, is practically always on the defensive, but like an addict she cannot stop looking for him even though it hurts her so much. So she hurts him too. That's their game, the only thing they know with each other. It's a constant battle, one that keeps you on edge. At the same time, she's so full of ego that she hates every woman that Armando lays eyes on because she can't hold HIM accountable so she hates them instead. She hates Betty because Betty has everything she wants from Armando without even havi g to fight. She got it from day 1. She despises Betty because she represents all that should be between Armando and her. And it's a pain in the ego to know that Betty being so ugly and poor still wins this round over her. She thinks she should have all that because she's supposedly socially perfect and has worked for it, even though her "work" actually comes from a place of ego and hurt and pain.

Those are my favorite characters! Honestly, I could write ESSAYS about each of them, this js only the tip of the iceberg lmao

Regarding the ones I don't like, I honestly like mot of them. Different degrees, ofc. I like Mariana much more than I like Sofia, for example, and I dislike Patty much more than I dislike AM lmao.

The only character that J can totally say I fully dislike is Jenny. I dislike her so much that I skip her scenes in the rewatches jajaja whiny tones are absolutely jarring for my ears lmao but sometimes a good story can balance it out, but Jenny doesn't really have it. She's just bad because and we know nothing else lmao

Sorry this is a big rambli g with no editing lmao thanks for the question!

[artemisandhersilverbow]

I'm still not over Taylor's Fortnight MV... to say it's my favorite visual work she's done would be an understatement. As with all things on this album, she did her research. Her incredible DP - Rodrigo Prieto - who has shot The Man, Cardigan, and Willow MVs. As well as, Brokeback Mountain, The Barbie Movie, Killer of the Flower Moon, etc.

There are so many ways to parse the story of the Fortnight video, but I will mostly focus on Taylor's use of mirroring to make some of the video's larger points.

I am a queer former film student so I wanna note that that's the bias I'll be writing from. If that disinterests you, no worries! This just may not be for you.

Love that we start with silent film era titles. One is black, one is white, perhaps a ying yang visual or simply representing the original album + the anthology. Could also be the light + dark of her two sides represented by Taylor and Post Malone.

The vertical alignment shift in the word Fortnight is interesting because the other time i noticed her doing this was in the closing poem for TTP with, "Some stars never align." Would be cute to have it like a nod to screenplay scene heading: INT. FORT - NIGHT

We start with Taylor, virtually still, but singing. She's handcuffed to an askew bed frame - sans mattress - with bars resembling a prison/cage.

The mirroring she's doing here is reminding us of "real life" Taylor's outfit at the 2024 Grammy's, but with the addition of white gauzy gloves + garter belt (like on tour), it reads more bridal, more bed sheet. That similar clock necklace is set to, best as I can tell, 9pm.

And she's got enough hairpins to... idk... make me spin out? Her make up evokes a little Clara Bow, Greta Garbo, legends of the silver screen, etc.

Taylor stops lip-syncing. Breaking the fourth wall, with direct eye contact, she's forced a "Forget Him" pill and unshackled from her bed prison. Unlike the next instance we get this match shot, it feels like she's telling the audience she knows we're watching and her look has a "this is what I'm forced to do" anger charged to it.

Also, the pill itself seems to break Taylor's reality from here on out. She "forgets him," but perhaps also becomes a different him herself.

She walks over, in her wacky funhouse of a prison room - skewed angles, upside down doors (those who enter from the left walk on the "ceiling" - to an actual mirror. But this mirror looks more like a one-way mirror. Meaning that the subject can see themselves, but so can others they can't see on the other side. Usually so the subject can be observed.

Still appropriate to break the fourth wall as though we are watching her in a way she can't return.

She wipes her face to reveal Post Malone's tattoos under the veneer of her prerfect facade. Once done, she utters the first "I want to kill her." She wants to "kill" Taylor TM?

I'll basically be going forward assuming that Post Malone is established in this mirror shot as a representation of Taylor, perhaps her True Taylor underneath the engineered perfection. This door/portal splits her in two on entry. From one white-clad figure to two black-clad ones. Kind of like the splitting of a prism.

Instead of exiting this upside down asylum, she goes deep into a department - perhaps the Tortured Poets kind. We get an awesome match cut/panning transition where Grammy dress referential Taylor morphs into a Victorian mourning dress. One very similar to the dresses on stage during Folklore during Eras (at the bottom of post). Perhaps also a nod to Emily Dickinson herself.

The way they design the set to make it so her asylum and office are connected feels like a not so subtle call out on how she feels about her chosen industry. Not quite a cheery take on the Lover House for ex. Time also becomes a little bendy, irrelevant when she does this portal walk.

When she enters she sits at a mirrored desk, morphing into Post Malone's silhouette. To the side we have faceless writers, also dressed in black older fashions, that seem to go on for infinity like a mirror trick.

Taylor sits down to start writing, Post Malone is already typing. They're both in black with embellished collars. We see that she has a top sheet with typed words, but under they're blank. Post has a pile next to him, along with his fountain pen, which perhaps are fully done b/c placement on the other side of him. Their desks are also arranged ever so slightly different. So Post-Taylor is a typing machine, Taylor needs to catch up...

But then Post Malone looks up to create this awesome mirrored match cut.

Taylor and Post-Taylor get to work, singing the chorus, camera cutting on their lines in mirror shots respectively.

We see a typewriter jam the same lines from the song, but specifically "I LOVE YOU." Granted, we can't be 100% sure whose typewriter it is, but we see Taylor type "Love You." Perhaps they're mirroring each other in even this task.

Eventually their stories starts leaking blue and orange/gold ether which prisms out to reveal "The Story of Us."

Really great shot of the infinity vanishing point effect from the unidentified crowd, how they're positioned makes them look like they're mirroring all of us watching/sharing our opinions.

This is where I'll stop for Part 1 because it's not ok how late this album has been keeping me up.

But a couple of things to start:

Taylor using very strong, very consistent mirroring techniques to create distinctions from narrator, character, and audience. Even the music is mirrored in the chorus with Post Malone's repetition.

By both wearing the face tattoos under a perfect exterior (the face we know her by), and immediately separating into two characters - one with her face/gender expression as we know it and Post-Taylor who now wears the face tattoos we just saw/is also sporting the face and gender expression we are familiar with him. It's Taylor TM the Brand vs Hidden (in plain sight) Identity Taylor.

Her typewriter emits an orange/golden glow from all of her repeated "I LOVE YOU'S," while his emits blue. Together they're creating the next story vignette: "The Story of Us."

One basic read for this is that Taylor could be owning her male POVs that come up in her songs (Folklore we're looking at you). Another read I have is that Taylor TM is writing the love song framework expected from her as an artist while Post-Taylor injects the devastation, anger, emotion, the heavy blues we often unearth from a song we originally thought was upbeat, romantic, unassuming. And considering these mirrored halves, I think that aligns with her own messages about her music, that people will always going looking for paternity tests - the publicized romance pulled from what we think we know about her. But perhaps the assumed truths of a song could be, and often are, driven by your gendered expectations - "Girl loves boy, sings about that." The hidden in plain sight Taylor subverts what the surface level shows.

The True Taylor is an unrecognizable author. And that writer is producing the meat of the work.

Additionally, I love that she's wearing a dress that feels taken off the Era's stage.

Folklore in particular was a really different writing era for her. She presented the characters and stories as fiction and all the sudden an unknown male collaborator — William Bowery — gets credited on it. I'd love if the message, in part, was hey I'm actually my own male writing partner. Regardless, her other half/POV was able to allow her to write truths so long as they remained unrecognizable.

But she's wearing the mourning dress, looking over at her hidden true half, looking over anxiously. And then begins to write. They're half the story that makes up the whole, one needing the other to tell the story they want to tell. Perhaps it's a call out to Folklore in particular as a solution to being limited by expectations of her signature diaristic-like songs' perspectives. Using it as a way to tell a version of the truth from a POV society or the powers that be in her life would accept it from — not Taylor TM as she is/who she's known to be.

More generally, the "male pov" and the male pronouns, just seem to be called irrelevant smoking guns in the game of knowing the unknowable - what her work, a lot of her work, is referencing specifically. These two writers, as presented, are still both Taylor. Them's the rules here. Ok, see you in PT. 2!

[themundanemudperson]

Power Rangers Dino Charge: End of Season Review

So I thought making reviews for every Power Rangers season that I've seen would be fun! (And I'm ignoring the physics lab report I have to do lmao)

Don't really expect anyone to read this but eh this is for fun

Fave Character: Prince Phillip III of Zandar. He's my little bitch babygirl <3

Fave Ship: Chiley!!! Green/black ships my beloved. My fave rarepair is Phillip/Ivan. The gay devotion in knight/prince ships is peak

Fave Non-Romantic Relationship: Kendall, James, and Phillip. Auxillary Rangers ftw!! (fuck Zenowing)

Fave Episode: The Tooth Hurts! Chiley ep of all time

General Thoughts:

Dino Charge was the first season of Power Rangers that I'd ever seen, and was the thing that got me into the fandom, so I'll always have a soft spot for it. But even rewatching it recently has it hold up.

The characters in this show are what I think makes it one of the best Power Rangers seasons, and the best Neo Saban. All of them are so great, and while they never got too much depth (curse you adults that think kids can't handle complicated things) but they're still such interesting people. Dino Charge had a large cast, and they didn't always handle that many people that well (the auxiliary Rangers unfortunately get little to no attention), but the cast, in my opinion, is what made it so great.

The main cast is so lovable. Tyler, while he can be a little bland at times, is a little cutie so he's great. Chase is an interesting character that's very fun to watch. Koda is the heart of the team and he's a perfect little angel. Riley is our canonically gay (via the actor) overachiever representation. Shelby is also overachiever representation, with academic pressure from parents too! Then you have Ivan. Our loyal and chivalrous knight out of time. The gay devotion is real with this one.

I'm going to cut myself off here, because you probably get the point. I love the cast of Dino Charge. Barring Zenowing and Keeper. They're just useless to me

And because these characters are interesting people, they also have such fun dynamics with each other. I love that the Rangers really feel like a found family. You can examine any relationship between the Rangers and have something to talk about. I mentioned Kendall, Phillip and James earlier as my fave platonic dynamic, but there are a lot more to look at. Tyler and Chase as himbo bros, Riley and Shelby as gay besties , Koda, Kendall and Chase with their familial bond as they were the first Rangers together... they're all great.

And the villain situation in Dino Charge was.... interesting.

The concept of fighting a bounty hunter that captures his monsters from all over the universe is cool, especially because it gives an explanation as to why the monster of the week fights so hard - they'd win their freedom if they brought back an energem. But Sledge himself was kind of a boring villain to me. He never actually has any kind of motivation for getting the energems - we don't know if he wants them for universal domination or to sell them to the highest bidder. So he felt kind of flat to me. I did love Poisandra, Curio, Wrench and Fury though. I liked that they had more personality. And Poisandra is my girl and I love her. She should've gotten a redemption arc. Fury was also an interesting character because of his rivalry with Ivan. I do wish they explored it more, but what we did get was cool.

And after Sledge was defeated, we got Heckyl and Snide! Quite obviously a Jeckyll and Hyde reference, these two were much more interesting to me than Sledge. Heckyl's backstory is so sad 😭 and I love him more for it. The concept of a villain infiltrating the Rangers place of work and pretending to be their friend was so awesome. I wish he was a double agent for longer (and that they didn't wipe his memory of their base) but I liked it.

Then you had Arcanon for a little bit. This was so fucking stupid. Dino Charge made an original villain in Sledge, so I think they shouldn't have bothered with trying to work Arcanon in there (his Sentai counterpart was the head villain). It felt too rushed and they could've introduced the dark energem with something else.

And then surprise! Sledge again! Also hated that to be honest. They defeated him the first time. Why bring him back.

We don't talk about that finale. We don't

Technically I have to if I want to talk about Dino Charge (unfortunately) so all I'm going to say is that it's stupid and I hate it. Ivan and Koda never leave and they never fuck up the timeline with that dumbfuck idea thanks <3

(Genuinely there's a discussion to be had about the character assassination that was committed by making Koda and Ivan - who had accepted that they were men out of time and living lives with their new family - went back in time for some fucking reason, but that's for another post)

Now! Onto something I actually want to talk about! The Sentai adaptation vs the Power Rangers. I've seen both, so y'all are getting my thoughts as to how well they adapted it. I think Dino Charge did an amazing job. They didn't take what happened in Kyoryuger and copy that exactly (cough cough Samurai cough cough). They made their own story and used the footage well

I also want to talk about the thing that makes Power Rangers iconic - the actual Ranger bit. I'm talking about the power source, the suits, the zords, and the Super mode.

I really liked the energems as a power source. The idea of ancient stones created at the dawn of the universe that bonded to dinosaurs, then people, is really cool. I have issues with the "energems give them immortality" bit (because I'm sad that they have to watch their friends and family die) but it really does make sense. They are bonded to something that is ancient and powerful, and there should be some side effects from that.

Now for the suits! (One could argue that the suits are more of the Sentai's influence but I'm treating them as solely Dino Charge right now). I really love the Dino Charge suits. They already get points in my book for not having fucking lips (which I hate with a burning passion), but they do look cool on their own. I love solidly coloured suits that don't have white or black pants. The helmets are also really cool, and I love the dinosaur heads incorporated in them. So the DIno Charge suits are great to me

The zords in Dino Charge are also awesome. They look really cool. I wish they could be small to hang out with their Rangers, but alas, we can't have everything 😔

The Super mode in Dino Charge was a pretty solid one. I liked that Rexy could be small to fight alongside Tyler. Don't love the white on the suit, but at least his normal suit is a nice, solid red.

So yeah! That's my Dino Charge review. Thanks for sticking around after that word vomit lol. I love this season so fucking much

[7nessasaryevils]

How are we already at episode 11???? This feels fake 🥺🥺

Sigh... alright then, let's do it.

- hi Cher!!! Who ya loo- Oyei!!!! Hi to you too! Oh we searching for Yak?

- me immediately worried that Yak has been triggered and is having a panic attack

Me when I realize yak is fucking sleeping on Dee's lap like the goddamn puppy he is doing everyone a heckin' scare!

- but also goddamnit they're so cute 🥹🥹🥹

- heheheh little kiss 💋

- FIST BUMPS!!! YOU DARE FIST BUMP IN FRONT OF MIETTE WHILE SHE PINES FOR PATPRAN?!? YOU DARE?!

- aww zazaki cheering so cutely in the background: my son!

- look at my little boxing family 🥹🥹🥹🥹 I'll burn anyone who dares hurt them

- I will not cry at how endeared and attentive Dee is when he listen to yak talking about how he preps for a fight I will not I won't!

- ahhh... the shoulder that started it all 😬

- more like Yoryak Phadetseuk's hubby 👀👀🤪

- I do love that Yei has learned and is now checking in with Yak instead of making decisions on his own... good job baby!!!

- babie yak has my whole heart 🥺🥹🥹 if this Mason guy is mean to my babie i will break him in half world championship title be damned! You haven't seen the strength of an angered mama bear bl fan!

-

- HES A BABIE A CHILD ILL RIP YOU APART ILL UNTWIST YOUR INNARDS AND TWIST THEM AGAIN LIKE A BALLOON ANIMAL ILL SHRED ALL YOUR CHARGING CABLES AND YOUR BOXING GLOVES ILL BURN YO- awww look Dee's feeding Yak!

- this little bitch fighting hurt people to keep his title im gonna sit on him!

- damnit yak BE SCARED!!! We all are!!!

- sir... push that straw all the way down what the fuck is that???

- Met Gala grim reaper is back for fucks sake 😬😑

- oh look! An actual representation of these two idiots 🤣 🤡

- ....okay... clown kink was not on my 2024 bingo card

- how the hell did they make clown nose touching cute???? Witchcraft!!!

- LOOK AT MY WHOLE FAMILY IN CLOWN NOSES THE BABIES!!!!!

- yak's about to say/do something embarrassingly adorable isn't he?

- he did!!!! The adorable clown you sweetheart!!!

- damn they're all so cu- FLOPPY COCK BASTARD DOCTOR SIGHTED!!!!! SEE WHAT YOU HAVE LOST YOU PISSPOOR EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING!!!!

- ohh Taem... honey... don't look like that you're breaking my heart 😢😢

- no. No no no ono nonooooooo no please I'm begging anything that is good and holy please do not have Ter go up to Taem!!!! DO NOT DO NOT! SHE DESERVES BETTER!!

- side note: taem yelling at a vending machine is peak human behaviour I love it! ♥️♥️

- GODFUCKINGDAMNIT

- I'll light a million fires, burn a thousand sage, conduct hundreds of blood sacrifices and rituals if it means Taem never ever ever ever ever has to talk to you again you trash wearing pus oozing excuse of a doctor!

- nope I hate it P'Golf how could you??? Why is there always something that immensely disappoints me in every show???

- awww all the little kiddies giving Yak their encouragement ♥️🥹

- oyei and Cher with a kid.... @imogenegomi THE FIC IS COMING TRUE?!? Ohhhh ask him ask him ask him ask him 👀👀

- HE ASKED IT!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

- Cher Oyei as actual parents!!! Getting married!!! P'Golf!!! If this show doesn't end with rings and a kid, you and I are gonna have words!

- your feelings have not been fake for a long ass time Khun Yoryak

- back hugs my beloved!!

- you've had his love for a long time to- why am i surrounded by stupid gays???

- greedy little puppy 🐶

- FOREHEAD KISSES MY BELOVED!!!

- Kao!!!! Hello my most perfect of sons how are you??

- oh I completely forgot that contest was a thing 👀👀

- Kao.... do you have a date?? One that makes you smile like that?? Spill!!!!!

- WAIT WERE GETTING TO SEE HIM???? WHOOOO?!

- THAT GUY!!!! KLUEN FROM WE ARE!!!! HIIII!!!!

- angry English speaking Yak my most beloved sexy damn woah (I think I had a minor stroke)

- side note: love that they called Mason American and he very much does not sound American 🤣🤣

- no no no no yak honey no!!

- my heart breaks so much for Wandee because he must feel so helpless. He knows Yak is hurting emotionally and there's not much he can do for him short of Yoryak actually speaking to him about his trauma. All he can do is hold onto him and let me know that he's there.

- your parents are besties, I guarantee it!

- fuck. I'm calling it now: Dee is gonna have to operate on the day of Yak's match.

- zazaki worried for Yak is fucking adorable: the besties we deserve!!

- ...I still can't believe that there are people who get cancer from smoking and then still refuse to quit. I knew a deacon who did that... what did he die from? Lung cancer. 😑

- oh great... operating with the trash floppy cock who doesn't understand the word no... love that

- I HATE WHEN IM RIGHT

- don't make promises you're not gonna be able to keep because this is a BL show Wandee!

- you just said your levels were off the charts you little liar 🤣🤣

- CHER!!! Saying what we're all thinking!

- Oyei.... I see you sir 👀👀 show Cher just how long you can endure 😏😏😏

- okay now I'm crying... Yak giving Yei that garland is so perfect because it is acknowledging everything that Yei has had to struggle with. He was a kid who had to be thrown into the role of a father, a brother, a teacher, an owner and care taker not just for Yak but for the people in the gym. This is one of my favourite moments for these brothers 🥹

- BOXING FAMILY UNITE!!!!😭🥹🥹

- walking into an OR without scrubbing... has grey's anatomy taught ya'll nothing??

- Ter you're a shit doctor.

- DONT LIE TO YOUR THERAPIST YAK!!!

- oh Jesus fuck that's fucking creepy....

- Apichart asking the thing we're all thinking: WHAT THE FUXK ARE YOU DOING STANDING AROUND!!! MOVE!!

- ...ter doing one nice-ish thing does not excuse all the the shit he has done before and I'm upset with the show for even trying to give him some sort of redemption. When someone has put their all into you and you drop them like a hot potato, you get no right to try and insinuate yourself back into their life. You've lost that right.

- gotta appreciate a little sitcom comedy moment 🤣🤣

- TAEM!!!!!!!

- MY SON WANDEE KEEPS HIS PROMISES!!!

- on the lips on the lips on the lips come on!

- FUCK YEAHHHHH!!!!

And that's it for this episode. We had some delicious delightful moments and moments where I wanted to ram my fist through a wall (in anger not in "fuck they're so cute") but that tends to happen with every show I watch. I hope I never have to see Taem and Ter scenes again because I'll puke.

Next week shall be emotional... we are finally wrapping up Wandee Goodday. This show has been lovely and a definite favorite of mine for this year.

Ep 12 promises to make some of my dreams come true: I see Dee and Yak in white on a beach which tells me marriage scene??? Oyei and Cher wedding!!!

So until next week!!! Adios my darlings!

[mausuwinasa]

Things I like abt every Side Order level track bc this is one of my fav OSTs of all time!!!

I have lots of thoughts abt the music in this game so I’m gonna just spit all of them out in this one giant post :3 90% of this will make sense only to me, also keep in mind I have synesthesia so I mention colors a lot when I talk abt music. I’m sorting these based on level type and talking abt each track individually.

d3mol12h

1. Simple and empty, much like the early levels! It creates a nice base to transition into the other tracks from. The detuning on the synths and ticking percussion remind me of a certain Purple Kiss song.

2. This track is genuinely beautiful. The organs (??) in the background give it an oddly emotional feel for such an intense song. The pinks and purples of the synths stand out well against the neutral colors of the in-game stages and enemies. It’s like the musical embodiment of a noble sacrifice! I’d put it on my nuzi playlist if it were on Spotify, smh…

3. Now it really feels like the difficulty has ramped up! The drums here are really interesting, I love the syncopation on some parts. They were also present in the second version, but I didn’t want to drag out the notes for that one any longer. The less intense parts are awesome, and I love how they get aggressively interrupted by the synths! It matches the gameplay very well.

rout1n32

1. Probably my least favorite track, but still pretty neat. I like how the same sample gets “recontextualized” into different chords, if that makes any sense. It has a bright and sunny feeling to it!

2. Metal pipe falling sound… basically just a more intense version of the first track. I like those weird ascending sound effects, they remind me of bubbles. They’re also kinda weird rhythmically, making them a ton of fun to listen to! There’s a tiny little piano sample in a certain part of it that I just noticed, and I really like for some reason.

3. GOOD LORD this song sounds like pure fear and absolutely slaps. The metal pipe has been multiplied thousands of times. Definitely a good encapsulation of the emotions most players feel upon entering Cruel_Sisyphean_Eight-Shaped.Floor.

2ouv3n1r

1. Great use of emptiness. The vocal samples sound almost corporate, a great representation of the conformist world Order is trying to create. Almost puts you to sleep, much like the early ♾️-ball levels do! Hardy har har.

2. The weird, distorted sounds, contrasted with the more relaxing parts with the lovely “wah-wah” synths make this a natural transition between the first and third tracks. I love how the repeated violin and flute sounds make a return here, but with slightly more complicated parts!

3. This song is fascinating AND very stress-inducing! It’s like the song itself is warning you about the 15 or so battering lentos currently trying to charge you. Watch out! Oh, and the less intense parts are GORGEOUS!!! The transition from a yellow to pink key reminds me of a beautiful tropical sunset. The subtle guitar part really adds to the vibe, and the descending chords are the perfect cherry on top for a lovely listening experience. They also contrast the rising synths of the chaotic parts well! It’s like a wink to the camera, a sly reminder that these tougher ♾️-ball levels are way easier than they look. Good lord I wrote for a long while on this…

j1tt3r2

1. Hmm, I don’t have much to say about this one, but I definitely like it a lot. The repeated piano samples feel almost awkward, like when you’re trying to explain your thought process to someone. Some parts of this song almost seem like miniature versions of the more ambient segments of the third track. Pretty neat!

2. I love just how weird the percussion on this is, it’s like it’s bouncing back and forth. The piano sample becomes more chopped up, and some of the beeping sounds that are more prominent in the third track start coming in, like the seeds are being planted for them.

3. Lovely intro! The abrasive synths quickly lead into another odd piano sample, like you’re swaying back and forth in a precarious spot. Almost like a more relaxed version of the vibe created by the percussion! I love the echoey ambient part in this too! There’s a certain element that sounds like someone coughing, which may sound very weird but I mean that as a compliment. The bleeps and bloops make me think of an old Game & Watch game.

j32t1ng

1. Some of the effects sound like dogs and cats to me. It makes the panicking alla mambos feel like skittish little animals, which they sort of are. The ascending beeping sounds are reminiscent of the player chasing them down. I really like the typewriter (??) sounds too! What is it with this game and abnormal percussion? I’ve gotten so much inspiration!

2. The animal-like sounds are still present. Some of the bitcrushed sounds remind me of the noises the enemies make. The meandering but relaxed melody in the beginning always feels fitting when I’m surveying the stage and planning out how I’ll achieve the objective.

3. I love this song! It just feels so cute and silly! The orchestra hit sounds are really neat. I like how the melodies often sound like circus music. I sure feel like a clown chasing down these stupid fish… the cute vibes of this song definitely make its levels feel like just a fun little game, which they certainly are! This has got to be one of my favorite tracks.

Alright that’s the end of my absurdly long post, if anyone wants to hear me rant abt the boss music just let me know because I’ve got plenty of thoughts on that too.

[damsels-n-dice]

'til it kills us: the creeping vine

a while ago, i made a post explaining the design process for the bogeyman, the first of the nine playbooks in my game. the playbooks in 'til it kills us are my favourite part, so i wanted to talk more about each of them as i work on playtesting :) some stuff has changed since that last post, so you might notice a few changes to the playbook format compared to last time, but the general post will be the same!

under the cut (for length), i'll go over every part of the creeping vine playbook -- a class of plant mages whose self-doubt grows like ivy inside them -- and what makes it special compared to the rest.

the name

this playbook is actually unique, in that its the only one where i'm not happy with the name i've chosen for it! calling it the creeping vine was meant to evoke both the plant powers it wields, and the way that self-doubt can creep into every decision you make. i compare it in the playbook description to the way ivy can damage a building as it grows, but it's also intended to reference vines that steal nutrients and resources from the plants on which they grow. i'm not happy with how i've achieved that intention, but that's for future revision!

the abilities

the equivalent of another game's statistics, some abilities are unique to a playbook, while others are shared between them. they're not quite as standardized as other games, and players have the opportunity to create their own in various ways. the constant, however, is that every playbook has two kinds of magic: their core defining magic, in this case flora, and a secondary type that the player gets to choose.

now all that explanation is out of the way, though, lets talk about the creeping vine's abilities. their most powerful abilities are control and either leadership or fear -- representations of the ways they try to hide their "failings" by pushing away others and taking charge. control of the situation (and battlefield control using their vines) lets them steer others away from their weakness, while leadership and fear are two different approaches for maintaining that social control.

after that, we have air and lightning, the two secondary magic choices. these are the magic types fueled by anxiety and paranoia, respectively, which are both emotions that sometimes blur with self-doubt. we round things out with spying, to gather information without having to share your own in return, and repair or destruction as responses to the loss of control. do they respond by taking it in stride and trying to fix things, or do they lash out in fear? that's up for the player to decide.

the power

the creeping vine's power is called chokehold, which allows them to grab an object or creature and hang it, immobile, in the air. creatures grabbed are held by the throat, but never strangled -- just as the self-doubt is ever present for these characters, a constant weight on their mind and their choices. you could even say it has a chokehold on them.

the presentations

unique to each playbook, the presentations are how you show yourself to the world. they can be anything from personality to style to a particular category of interest. for the creeping vine, they are also a source of confidence. a carefully maintained image, in whatever form that takes, is what they use as "proof" they're put together themselves.

in the sexy and you know it and social butterfly options, you can see the way a creeping vine might choose to make their life look "perfect". these are the kind of people you can't believe have ever struggled with their confidence, even as their magic is the most powerful of all. they pride themselves on being someone that other people want to be.

by contrast, a creeping vine might choose the more relaxed and humble options of the specialist or the manager. while they're not flashy or enviable in the same way, they project that same aura of confidence and bravery in a different fashion -- these presentations appear very, very good at what they do. what it is they do, and whether they're actually as good as they appear, depends on the character! my favourite detail about these, though, is the fact that the manager is encouraged to use colour-coded spreadsheets. a detail that definitely wasn't stolen from any real life influences...

the motivations

these are similar to presentations, in that every playbook comes with four options, but they are drawn from a shared pool instead of unique to that playbook. they are also, of course, what motivates a character. and for the creeping vine, that means proving yourself. sometimes to other people, and sometimes to yourself. i wanted this character's journey to be about overcoming self-doubt, and often the way that begins is through tangible achievements or outside encouragement.

one is different from the rest, though, as they might decide to look for a safety blanket instead. this is meant to be for those who've completely given up on themselves. instead of trying to prove they can do things right, they just want a way to protect themselves when they mess up.

the touchstone

as the npc companion to the creeping vine, the touchstone is even more customizable than most traits. it's also the most closely tied to the core emotion of the playbook: self-doubt. for this playbook, your touchstone is the npc who makes the decisions you don't trust yourself to make. your journey with them is about learning to become less reliant on external guidance -- particularly since they might not have your best interests at heart in every situation.

the end

that's it for the creeping vine! the base feature element that was mentioned in the bogeyman breakdown was removed in editing (i needed that space for something else), so it's a slightly shorter post this time. "next week", or more accurately when i next remember, i'll be talking about the drowned, a water-themed playbook!

[morethanaloveinterest]

An Outta Sight Look at Victoria Vinciguerra's Costumes in the Man from U.N.C.L.E.

The fashion in this movie continues to be amazing. Let's dig into what our villainess is wearing and it tells us about her.

(check out my review of Gaby's costumes here)

We meet Victoria Vinciguerra at a party she is hosting, which Napoleon Solo crashes to get close to her. The majority of Victoria's wonderful costumes in this movie are black and white, with gold accents, but this one has by far the most gold - even her sandals have it!

As an introduction to our villain, it's perfect. In a story where everyone has facades, with double agents and all, wearing an animal print is very appropriate. Is it a zebra pattern or a tiger? Is she the prey of super spy Solo or is she actually hunting him? A+ costume choice for this scene, no notes.

This also sets her apart from Gaby, our female hero. Victoria is far more done up - more makeup, dripping in accessories, complex pattern, there is nothing simple here. She is a fabulously wealthy woman and she is flaunting it.

As we'll see with the rest of her costumes, she's also clearly the one wearing the pants in the plots. Yeah, her husband may have inherited the business but she is definitely the one in charge at every point. While still looking fabulous.

Female representation: 10/10 Fantastic villain outfit, especially for a spy movie. Definitely set apart from the way villainesses are usually portrayed

Practicality: 10/10  It's obviously perfect for that context but I'm sure she could take care of anything that came up without breaking a sweat (or tripping over anything).

Both ladies wear their pajamas in this movie, and they couldn't be more different. Victoria continues to be the height of fashion, looking just as put together and intentional as she does in anything else she wears in this film. The geometric pattern on her robe is very fashionable and reinforces her black-and-white costuming. A little more gray here, perhaps begging the question of if she has been taken in by our charming spies (she has not)

Female representation: 10/10 I'm going to go off of the movie instead of this particular picture, lovely as it is. In the film, she wears this in a darkened room while behind her desk, on the phone. We do see her leave to go change, dramatically slamming the doors, but nothing else. Which makes it still one of the best filmed nightgown scenes I've come across - she continues to be gorgeous without catering to the male gaze (this isn't how women in spy movies are usually filmed, you know?)

Practicality: 9/10 Not sure they'd be the most comfortable pajamas but they're great for spending time in one's boudoir.

I wanted to include more detail, but couldn't in the distance shot. This is what she wears after hearing that someone has been snooping around, and she immediately goes to the hotel to investigate Solo. Her makeup is a bit less obvious than at the party, but she certainly has a full face. She even had time to accessorize before heading out. Her shoes might be gold, which is delightful.

The vest is clearly made of scales (alligator seems most likely to have been fashionable at the time, but it could be a kind of snake). Whatever the source, it is very appropriate for the villain of the story as she goes to investigate our hero with intent to kill. Before getting up to something a bit more entertaining.

Female representation: 10/10 For a snake-themed outfit our villainous lady wears to take out the hero, this is quite understated. Very focused on her own sense of fashion rather than the male gaze

Practicality: 10/10 One of the more practical things she wears in this movie, perfect for going to murder and/or sleep with a spy

I gotta be honest here, I'm not sure when she wears this (is it a deleted scene?). It's clearly in the lab, no doubt getting an update on what our spies have discovered. It's the least dressed-up we see her, while she still keeps to her color scheme.

Female representation: 10/10 Villain gets a report from her captive scientist wearing this? Perfection

Practicality: 10/10 It certainly rivals the last one in practicality, though I can't be sure what the whole ensemble looks like.

Absolutely show-stopping, I love how the costumes step up a notch for the climax (as does everything else). The clearly divided black and white is perfect for the way this scene plays out. Is she fooled by Solo or fooling him? She's worn pants in basically all of her scenes (other than her nightgown), but this one is definitely my favorite.

Female representation: 10/10 Our female villain poisons our spy hero in this outfit? Perfection once again

Practicality: 10/10 Fantastic choice for revealing your plans and taking down your nemesis

She wears this coat and scarf over her previous costume, while out and about to cause mischief. It fits her color scheme and style, but now that we all know she is the villain, the white is just an accent while black has taken over.

Female representation: 10/10 Again, for being the black costume our villainess wears in the climax, I can't think of anything more lovely and empowering. She's definitely in charge here.

Practicality: 9/10 I am sure she has underlings to grab things for her, but I don't feel like she could move her arms very much - something I consider important in a coat. Still, it's gorgeous.

Her final costume in the film, when she is escaping on a fishing boat. Shockingly, she seems to have put on an outfit that isn't black and white, with even some blue! Presumably she was trying not to attract too much attention as she escaped on a simple fishing boat, but she is still incredibly stylish with proper accessories.

Female representation: 10/10 Again, female villain getting her comeuppance at the end, dressed very comfortably, you gotta love it

Practicality: 10/10 I can't see the whole thing, but Victoria always has the right outfit for the occasion, so I'm sure this is perfect for her current plot.

Want to hear more of my thoughts about female characters and fashion? Check out my other costume reviews or my YouTube channel (episode on Gaby out now!)

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: The Stars Too Fondly by Emily Hamilton

4/5. Releases 6/11/24.

Vibes: everyone is queer, pretty much, grumpy x sunshine, grieving and falling in love, BIG MYSTERY--HUGE

Heat Index: 5/10

Cleo is obsessed with space--which is what leads to her friends accidentally launching a ship towards Proxima Centauri (and it will take... seven years there and back for them to return to Earth; if they survive). But in her defense, she was just trying to find out what happened to the crew that disappeared on launch day twenty years ago! And the the dark matter engine kicked off on its own! Fortunately (?) they're quickly joined by a hologram of Billie, the ship's vanished captain. Unfortunately, she doesn't remember exactly what happened. Or what's going to happen now. Also, she seems to really dislike Cleo--or does she?

OH, this was a lot. Both in terms of genres--it's like, sci-fi with some pretty hard science, I think, knowing nothing about science, plus a bit of magic, plus romcom, plus like... a treatise on loss and loving again?--and plot. This is definitely, ultimately, a romance. And it it's really quite beautiful. Yes, there are jokes, yes there's a mystery that actually gave me a bit of the creeps (in a good way), but ultimately this is about one woman who's gone through this massive loss having her heart cracked open by someone who's sort of given up on everything that seems to matter to her and is trying to ignore that by charging into space.

It bit off a lot. Like, this is a big swing of a book, and it's not perfectly perfect. But it is really good.

Quick Takes:

--This is a textbook grumpy/sunshine book. Billie is a take-no-prisoners alpha bitch, and even in hologram form (to be clear: the hologram is fully sentient, the "real" Billie essentially uploaded her consciousness into the ship right before disappearing) she isn't afraid to boss people around. She has a hard shell, and she's not easy to get through to.

Cleo, on the other hand, is bright and curious and perhaps doesn't take life seriously enough (which is definitely in part a coping mechanism for how badly the Earth is doing... which uh, hit pretty close to home!). Billie puts her in order and forces her to face shit head on; Cleo forces Billie to be a kinder, gentler person and breaks through her walls in a way she really needs. Their love story is really touching, and if you're the type of person who loves to see a hardened person get broken down by falling in love (like me) you'll love this.

--There's so much representation in this cast of characters! The "crew" is made up of an Asian man, Abe, whose partner (also in the group) Kaleisha is a Black trans woman. You also have Rose, who's non-binary, Cleo, who's a Black lesbian, and Billie, a bi woman, making up the primary team. It's all woven in very naturally, and you get the sense that everyone cares for each other and has this sense of solidarity. Just little things, like everyone checking to see if the ship has the hormones Kaleisha needs (don't worry, it does).

I also actually really appreciated the way that Billie was implied to be a woman who primarily dated women and then had her sexuality questioned after she got engaged to a man. Her relationship with the fiance she lost, Neil, is a huge part of who she is--and it's not invalidated by her falling in love with Cleo, or vice versa. In fact, so much of Billie's arc is informed by her grief and pain. She literally ran to space to escape her grief, and it's like--you just can't. And you also can't avoid the reality of moving on, and the fear that comes with loving people you may lose. Oof.

--The mystery was so eerie? Like, the idea of an entire crew of astronauts just disappearing right when they were meant to be launched into space... can you imagine the podcasts?

Hamilton wove this in really well--you get news articles, and especially comms between members of the crew, most of them involving Billie. Which is... man. It feels so sinister, and it also feels a bit separate from the Billie you see in the active present, because this is the "disappeared" Billie, not the hologram. It was a little stomach-churning for me, because, though I knew this was a romance and therefore would have an HEA, I still felt so worried for her and worried about what she was withholding.

--My one critique would be that I do feel like the story goes on a bit long, and could have had the ending shortened a bit. You kind of have this big climactic moment, and then we have to pick up the pieces and hurry to tie up loose ends. Which couldn't be entirely avoided, given the plot of the novel, but could have been a bit tidier. Not a huge issue at all, though, and it was nice to sort of bask in Billie and Cleo's relationship at that point.

The Sex:

So like. Billie is a hologram. Therefore, she can't touch or be touched. Which does put a hold on the physical sex in the novel, but doesn't stop it from being sexy and sexual. I mean, in a lot of ways I found the tension between Billie and Cleo hotter than some of the klutzy sex scenes I've read recently--and that's saying something coming from me, Little Miss Write More Sex.

That said, there is one full sex scene in the book, and it is quite hot. Won't tell you how it comes about, but you won't be dissatisfied. Neither were they.

I am not a sci-fi person. I'm not against it, but I often find it difficult to follow and a bit too cerebral for me to get emotionally involved, even when it's a sci-fi romance. This is the kind of sci-fi that works for me. It exists to serve the characters, and while the science is definitely fairly involved, it's not difficult to understand. (At least for me.)

I keep coming back to this, but I just found the emotional themes of the novel really moving in a way I didn't expect. It felt kind of heartbreaking at points. But thanks to the magic of a romance novel, it comes back to this circle of love and warmth (which really does transcend romantic love, too--the platonic bonds in this novel are great). My heart was full.

Thanks to NetGalley and Harper Voyager for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[scarletwitching]

Wanda and Pietro are both Romani, and Wilson's coloring for their skin tone here is perfect. Could you talk a bit about making sure this representation made it to the page?

I'm very glad to hear this! The honest answer is the topic is one that's important to the entire creative team. It has to be because, as a writer, I'm by no means "in charge," nor do I have the power to "make sure" of anything. That's not a negative. That's part of being one of many, part of being a creative team that starts with editorial and ends when the book goes to print. The risk of collaboration is that you don't have control. As with many things in life, that's also the joy. The risk brings greater reward and surprise in the final product, while an entire team operates doing what they do best.

Wanda's depiction was and is important to all of us. My role as the writer is to advocate for what's important to me and the character, but I'm not the last word. In fact, I'm one of the first words. So the process here is one of reverence and respect by the entire creative team, not solely me.

Wanda is one of the most powerful characters in the Marvel Universe. What are some of the opportunities and challenges that come with writing a character like that?

I've said before that one of the inspirations for this series is All-Star Superman, and I think that describes our mindset for the book. Wanda's incredibly powerful, but she's not omniscient, and she's not perfect. When you have a character for whom most weaknesses are emotional or social, the opportunity is that the threats, by definition, end up further defining the character. Someone who can get to Wanda does so emotionally or by threatening what she loves. To me, that has to say something about Wanda. It says something more powerful than someone holding her Kryptonite (not that we're not working on that, too...). The challenge is finding where Wanda's potential pressure points sit when they're not a question of power. But that yields even better, richer, more emotional threats.

Steve Orlando interview (x)

[ruporas]

i only intended to send 1 ask and come back l8r but i have chronic brainrot and rereading your bound to want comics is just nonstop reminding me of all the things i loved about them. so u get 3 deranged rambles in a row!

THIS ONE WILL BE SHORTER I THINK

(spoilers, it isn't)

but i actually realized this Just Now, rereading the comics side by side/one after the other as i pick them apart

but in vash's dream, their relationship is so one-sided.

wolfwood verbally hesitates to indulge, saying it feels "wrong" to dance together. his hold on vash is a bit loose, and he doesn't really make eye contact.

it's vash who leads the dance, and vash who reassures him, says it's okay, tries to say that he wants to be together... and leads into that charming dip at the same time. every move that's made, it's made by vash. wolfwood just lets himself be pulled along, and seems surprised by it the whole time

...but it's a dream. and reality is so different. SO VISCERALLY DIFFERENT.

in part 2, there's SUCH a theme of wolfwood taking the reigns on their relationship. of course half of that reason is because vash has backed off completely and is running from his problems, but even then he's actively stepping up. he's reaching out. he's proactively trying to rekindle their connection.

it's HIS idea to sit them down for drinks, HIS idea to open up with honesty, and when vash starts to cry, HE'S the one that reaches out to wipe the tears away.

even when they start dancing after the ID, it persists. wolfwood is the lead now, and he's also the one that asks for vash's hand first. he's also the one that OPENLY ADMITS that he wants vash, when vash never could (or would? the nightmare did cut him off, but that could've been symbolism for the way his own fears choke him up and never let him say such things out loud. idk pls tell me)

but now wolfwood's hold on vash is steady and strong. actively holding him close and urging him CLOSER. even taking the lead to pull him in for a kiss at the end

though as much as i talk about wolfwood taking the lead in their relationship here- which he DID- it's also so much more reciprocated. it's healthy. they're both drawn in by each other. even if there's more themes of wolfwood taking charge here, this is REALITY. THEY BOTH WANT EACH OTHER. VASH HOLDS ON TOO, EVEN IF WEAKLY THANKS TO HIS FEARS

and it's just such a brutal, silent representation of how insecure vash is about this sort of thing... among other emotions.

in his mind, wolfwood barely participated at all. their relationship ended badly, too. but in reality, it's SUCH a two-way street. they both cling to each other and they're both so desperate for each other.

like aaaaagh i almost wish the dream was a little longer so i could analyze the differences more lmaooo. the pacing for it is already so perfect, but it's such a neat peek into how vash perceives their relationship in his subconscious, where there's no holds barred

idk i just feel like you're so amazingly insightful about how vashwood works emotionally. you understand them so deeply, from their tendencies to their insecurities and more.

and i might've been wrong about some stuff in this ask, but i'm ok with that. it's an opportunity for u to correct me on your interpretations and talk more about vashwood >:)

you're not wrong at all!! i was also going to not elaborate too much bc i could speak forever about their individual perspectives and view on the overall relationship, but here we go,

it can definitely be viewed as one-sided with the insecurities heavily weighed on wolfwood's side in the dream and vash leading him into reassurance, that it's okay to just be, and it's okay to share in that moment of intimacy, before it's quickly washed up by his own impending fears of having that luxury. it's a reflection of his personal desires too, of what he can lean into to help wolfwood feel loved and bearing his heart.

but yes, ultimately, reality is different!! vash can't bring himself to do ANY of that and he withholds, for 2 weeks and probably longer if wolfwood didn't intervene. wolfwood, to me, is a Very generous person. he DID give vash space to sit and think about it for that time, but he realized soon enough that this wasn't something that was going away and that it was actively weighing on vash. when wolfwood realizes vash needs a push, he goes for it immediately, leading to his directness, to opening a bit of his own vulnerability, and then realizing mid-convo what it was all about, making him more decisive in his actions.

vash has repressed for sooooo goddamn long, he can do it for another million years if he had that time, so if he needed to, he would repress all the way up until their separation. wolfwood is very Human and even if time had ran differently for him growing up, he still runs on human time, which i feel aids in him being more strong in his pursuit initially ( that is to say, imo, as their relationship progresses and gets deeper, it kind of flips, with vash being more earnest and open, similarly to how he might be in the dream, and wolfwood returning that earnestly in full, but he's also plagued everyday by his mission and guilt and the potential doom of no man's land-- but anyway, that's a detour note-- )

like aaaaagh i almost wish the dream was a little longer so i could analyze the differences more lmaooo. the pacing for it is already so perfect, but it's such a neat peek into how vash perceives their relationship in his subconscious, where there's no holds barred

ehe well!!! bound to want is only one of my long vashwood comics!!! bounds of more opportunities in the future to dig into vash's self isolation, being as lonely as he has been for soooo long, and his point of view on yearning for wolfwood and whatnot. i can dig into it for so long, hopefully i'll have more time to work on my other longer comics over the summer that may dive into this area!!

i always found vash's pov to be really interesting, because in the manga, we see a lot of wolfwood's progression and his love for vash bloom through his inner thoughts, but we don't get to see vash's thoughts of wolfwood, not until . ahem. so, i have fun analyzing the way vash rescinds in general when it comes to relationships while juxtaposing his intense desire and want for this one person that manages to make him want in the first place. and in bound to want particularly, i wanted this to take place after the ship/home arc and before the remembrance of july arc. canonically, it's too early for them to develop these kind of relationships, but i've taken the reigns and shuffle events in there to further their love, as one who takes canon to fanon does.

i've always viewed vash as the first to fall in love in trimax and it's a steady accumulation, from their first meeting 2 years ago when he was read at point blank by a weird priest, to being the first face of the old world he abandoned that he sees, to wolfwood lingering around, following… filling up the space so he isn't alone anymore. and despite their conflicts and disagreements just prior, vash ultimately relied on him during the home arc, needed to because he couldn't have done it alone unless he wanted to lose more people. he knew wolfwood then, he knew his methods, but in that moment, he couldn't tell him to not kill. he didn't tell him to kill either, he just left it to wolfwood, trusted him so vash, with all his grief and emotions, could handle emilio. and afterwards, wolfwood comes out injured but not broken, he's okay! and i think that really sinks into vash, the whole concept behind reliability is so foreign to him because he really tries to handle everything by himself and now there's suddenly someone else who gets what he's asking for with a mere glance, someone who he can fight back to back with, and it'd just be soooo much for him.

the thing about vashwood is that they're both lonely in a very similar manner and they hurt, shy away from the companionship of others, but they are both also kind and giving. and i'd imagine they'd both recognize this mutual feeling somewhere in the air between them, but neither approaches it because it'd just lead to hurt.

because vash has been in love for muuuuch longer though, i think him steadily figuring out the potential hesitation behind wolfwood initiating anything makes him want to start the conversation first, but thinking of starting is different from actually working up the nerves to. there is confidence in their companionship and trust in wolfwood, but wolfwood is also a guide and time and time, that's been reiterated back to vash; a reminder that their time together is temporary, that wolfwood is here for a mission and not for him, and that vash has a responsibility at the end of their journey that he can't bring a human in to fight alongside him. Combine that with his complete and utter fear of himself considering he doesn't know how his body works at this point, it's a combo of insecurities in both parties of the relationship that he /wants/, but knows he shouldn't and doesn't deserve to have.

i don't know if any of that made sense, i rambled a LOT more than i needed to GMKSMGDSGMKSD BUT YEAH. ANYWAY. there's tons to explore behind vash's psyche and wolfwood's, GOD, wolfwood's psyche is so… i shake him everyday. but with vash, even if there is greenlight signs from wolfwood, he will always doubt first. i imagine, after he got rescued by wolfwood in vol 8, only then is when he can unabashedly 110% have full faith in what he reads from wolfwood and trust in what he feels, which is devastating considering the limited free time they got to have.

BUT OK ok im done. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR MESSAGESSSSS, THESE MEAN A LOT TO ME, as i mentioned!!! i'm very thankful for all of your analysis and tidbits to my silly little comic… it really makes me genuinely so happy that someone could give so much thought on it and pick up things that were intentional or just providing observations, its so wahhhh T__T I FEEL HONORED, really, thank you so so much!!!!

[linkspooky]

YOU KNOW DC?! WOW, I'M A FAN WHAT FAVORITE HEROES AND VILLAINS DO YOU HAVE MINE IS HALEY QUINN.

So sorry, my main area of expertise is Teen Titans characters and Batman Villains.

#5 Roy Harper

Roy is just the most wholesome sunshine boy. He's positive addict representation. (It turns out anyone can become an addict even superheroes, it doesn't make you a bad or morally deficient person). He is a loving single father. He is a team leader and friend. He's got it going on.

Roy projects this bad boy image but don't believe it, he just has low self-esteem, if anything he is one of the more wholesome superheroes. Roy tends to be really caustic and likes to pick fights with people, but don't buy it he's literally the bad boy who feeds kittens when no one is looking. Ollie is like a more idealistic batman, and Roy Harper is like a more idealistic Dick Grayson.

Roy is confrontational. but he has the best of intentions he only picks fights with people if there's a problem that needs solving. Also, the person he fights the most is Dick Grayson, and he needs someone to give him a kick in the pants every once in awhile.

#4 Donna Troy

Donna is actually one of the most nuanced comic book characters of all time, and it has nothing to do with her backstory so don't even bring that up. "She's just kind of plain and boring..." that's it you've got it, you've nailed the essence of Donna.

Donna's the one sort of normal person around a bunch of extreme personalities, so all of her friends use her as a free friend therapist, while completely ignoring Donna's own issues. Donna is the single mom of several traumatized teenagers except she's the same age as them.

Donna has this image among her friends as the perfect overachiever, but she's actually just as much of a mess as everyone else. One time Dick leaves Donna in charge of the titans and the team totally falls apart because Donna CANNOT lead. She tries to make Jason the leader of the team and he was like twelve at the time. Her entire personal life is a wreck, look up what happens to Donna Troy it's one of the saddest things in comic books. She's actually one of the most tragic characters, which makes her enduring desire to help her friends and take care of people a really strong character trait because it's continually tested by the tragedy in her life.

#3 Eddie Bloomberg

Every Teen Titans run gives me a new favorite character and Eddie was that for the Geoff Johns run. Seeing as my favorite hero of all time is Spiderman, there is nothing better than a normal, powerless teenager, trying to become a superhero because they want to help others.

Eddie's life is just very melancholy and lonely, he becomes so desperate to be a teen titans he literally seels his soul for the chance of being a hero. He almost cut his life even shorter, because being a hero for a few years seemed better to him than living as a normal person for a much longer life. Eddie works as a character because despite his abysmally low self esteem he tries to help people, and what makes him a hero is not his powers but who he himself is. Even after losing his powers the Titans need him around because he is the heart of the team.

#2 Rose Wilson

Terra is my favorite DC character of all time, and Rose is basically Terra if Terra actually lived. Rose and Eddie made the Geoff Johns run enjoyable for me, there's something deeply compelling about Rose's search for a family and also her desire to define herself as her own person.

If you are connected to Slade Wilson in any way he will just destroy your own life, so it is powerful to watch Joey and Rose connect as siblings outside of Slade, and also Rose keep trying to be a hero on the Teen Titans when no one on the team trusts her. Even when she leaves it's not because she was a bad person, it's because the whole team rejected her and even on her own Rose was still trying to figure out what the right thing to do was and how to live her life.

#1 Harley Quinn

Harley's just one of the most characters ever. Characters are their flaws and Harley has a whole lot of them, she's hurt a lot of people, she enabled a man to hurt so many more, she crossed a line as a psychiatrist, she's selfish enough that she'll terrorize gotham in the pursuit of love.

YET! She remains such a sympathetic character at her core. Not only because of the way the joker treats her, but because no matter much Harley tries to change herself in pursuit of being loved by someone else, Harleen was a doctor. Hurting people is against her nature. THe more people she hurts, the more she is hurt. She's like a living example of the cycle of abuse, she is a victim and she victimizes others, and yet there's always still that chance of recovery for her.

Harley's also just so unique. Her world view is so distorted. Her priorities are all messed up. She doesn't really have a system of morality so much as "If I do this, I will be loved...." and because of that she ends up doing some really bad things. Yet, there's something deeply relatable and identifiable of a person who just wants to be love.

She's incredibly emotionally complex. One unique thing about Harley is she kind of changes her entire personality depending on who she's around, and yet she's still Harley. Harley's just kind of this attention hungry, love seeking person, desperate to stand out, easy to get along with, easy to make friends. She's like this really wholesome while at the same time being a really toxic person, and all of those qualities make a volatile mix that just explodes into the funnest person ever.