#it's the way he's actually putting in effort

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 16

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6.5k

warnings: none besides.... fictional police work...

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 16/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

Despite everything, you fill with a sense of excitement as you drive off, Sana in the passenger seat beside you. It’s nice to feel like you have a purpose again, and even if you technically had one during the last mission with Jeongguk, it was overshadowed by the danger you believed resided under the same roof. 

It’s a comfortable journey, and soon enough the highway turns into a pristine neighborhood, bearing no trace of the traumatic events that occurred there months ago. Most of it looks the same as you remember it but other parts don’t. There’s an unfamiliar car parked outside ‘your’ house, and not only that, but glancing through the large windows as you cruise by, you spot movement inside. Children? You knew people would eventually move into the house–a house that never even belonged to you to begin with–but it feels weird.

Putting your more than illogical feelings aside, you focus on parking your car outside the Jungs’ house instead. Before stepping out, you and Sana give each other one last once-over. Despite the relatively low risk of this initial part of the mission, you’ve still made an effort to appear inconspicuous, and it’s not only for your own sake. Considering what they’ve done for you–Hoseok especially–you don’t want to be a bother if they’d rather not have law enforcement be seen knocking on their door.

It’s Eunha who opens the door, eyes going wide when they land on your face. For a second, your worry grows; what if your presence isn’t actually appreciated? At all? But then her lips pull into a smile.

“Oh, hello?”

“Hi, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions? About another case, not… yours,” you find your greeting turning into rambling.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I’m a little busy baking at the moment, but Hobi is home, and I’m guessing he’s the one you really want to speak with?”

She wipes her hands on her light blue jeans, leaving a white, powdery residue on the fabric before opening the door wider. 

“Thank you,” you smile as you step inside, looking around to see that, as far as you can tell, everything looks the same as when you last paid the Jungs’ a visit. When you think about it, Hoseok never brought up the bugs you placed in their house, so you’re guessing they never found them. Or if they did, they haven’t brought it up for some reason or another. You’re not sure, but what you do know is that you’re not gonna be the one to do it, just in case.

“Make yourselves at home. I need to check on the cookies. Hobi!” she turns to call out into the house, ��We have guests!”

With an apologetic smile, Eunha excuses herself, and then you and Sana are left alone in the entryway. You share some kind of look. Sure, you didn’t expect too much hostility, but to leave you, two detectives, unsupervised in their home? 

A second later, the sound of footsteps approaches, and you smile toward the brown-haired man as he comes into view, his confused features turning happy. He takes in the sight of you before he closes the distance to give you a warm hug.

“How are you? You look good!” he compliments, also turning to shake Sana’s hand, a very sweet smile on his lips. “Hoseok.”

“Sana,” she greets.

“I’m doing well,” you answer, “He is too; made a full recovery.”

Hoseok’s smile falls, and he takes on a rather baffled look instead. “We saw on the news. About the station and the investigation and all that. Crazy. I mean, we knew there were corrupt cops, but to that extent?”

“Yeah.”

“So what brings you here?” he asks, a glint slowly returning to his eyes. “Was it maybe something I said one time at a hospital?”

You nod, “Yeah. Can you tell us what you know? Or give us any tips at all so that we can stop Kyung Sunghyun once and for all?”

You watch him contemplate. Since he first let that comment about Ksung slip at the hospital, you’ve felt that he’s a good enough man to at least not mind Sunghyun being investigated and possibly put behind bars. But what can he say without incriminating himself for essentially planning a robbery? And can he trust you if he accidentally lets something slip? You might seem like you’ve stopped pursuing him, but can he trust you not to, ever?

“Why don’t we take a seat in the living room?” He gestures for you to follow him, and after quickly taking off your shoes and jackets, you do, with Sana in tow.

Sitting on the Jungs’ couch, you wait for Hoseok to get comfortable and for Sana to pull her pen and notebook out of her bag. 

“Hey, love?” Hoseok calls out to his wife, turning to the two of you, “You want something to drink?”

“Oh, water would be fine,” Sana accepts, and you nod, “Yeah.”

“Hm?” Eunha appears in the doorway. She seems to have more flour on her pants than last time.

“Could you bring us some water?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Hoseok thinks about it for a second before he lights up, “Oh, do we have some of those brownies left?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll bring a few pieces.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Eunha leaves, Hoseok turns to you again, a look of concentration coloring his features. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well, everything,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll warn you that I might not know as much as you think, and some things–not that I know them–I can’t say. I guess I can start by saying that, hypothetically, if I were a criminal of any kind, I would probably still stay as far away from other criminals as possible; especially if I had… valuables that might make me a target. No honor amongst thieves and all that, you know?”

Although his words deny any criminal activity, his expression reveals that he’s well aware that everyone in the room knows that he’s far from innocent. At least as far as the law is concerned. You watch him intently, waiting for whatever information he has and praying that it’ll help.

Sana drives you both home an hour or so later, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat and staring out the window as the world passes by.

“We need to tell Jihyo as soon as possible,” Sana says, “I can drive you home after if you want me to? Unless you’d rather stay with me?”

“No, it’s… fine. I’m fine.”

You are fine. Although it could’ve sent you into some sort of panic attack, it didn’t. It’s just a reminder of why you don’t trust men, and you feel yourself withdrawing instead.

Hoseok didn’t have too much info on the Ksung trafficking case. As you expected, they spent a pretty significant amount of time trailing Sunghyun and his closest men in order to map their routines. Not that Hoseok admitted it; it was very ‘hypothetical’. But from what you gathered, it was difficult to get close to the top men and almost harder to follow anyone. Then, when everything happened and Hoseok and Yoongi understood that you’d been watching them, they put the plans mostly on hold. Except for one thing.

“He, of course, doesn’t actually get his hands dirty if he can help it, and we weren’t–you’d have to be a whole team to keep track of everyone and what they’re doing. But …there might be a private plane flying mostly under the radar about once a month. Someone might’ve found… ‘receipts’ for fuel from different places, and when pieced together, they form a vague route.”

“I guess the question is, why the need to fly incognito? Is it possible it flies… cash or other valuables from the bank that they’d rather not have everyone know of?” Sana asks, and you nod in agreement. It’s a very valid concern; you wouldn’t want just anyone to know if you’re transporting valuable cargo, even legally.

“The plane is refueled more often and with less fuel than a cargo plane, according to the receipts. It seems to be a very small plane, with a correspondingly small fuel tank. And these days, flight tracking is the default; it’s definitely an extra step to opt-out. Sometimes even difficult to achieve.”

“So we’ll be looking into this plane, alright. Where are the receipts from? Is there a pattern? Somewhere we can go to see if we catch them as they’re refueling?”

“The first stop is around three hours from their headquarters, so you’d assume the plane is stationed around there somewhere, but it might have proved hard to actually find it. I’ll give you the coordinates for that and the other locations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s with genuine gratitude that you thank Hoseok. It’s truly ironic that one of the sweetest men in your story is a bank robber, while the police have taken on the role of your enemy.

“So how is your case coming along? You haven’t found them yet, I assume?”

You press your lips together briefly before sighing. You know you shouldn’t disclose anything, really, but again, with how much has been on the news, the public would’ve known if the wanted police officers had been apprehended. And they haven’t. You’ve been told not even the Jimin-lead actually led to anything.

So you shake your head. "Still looking.”

To your surprise, Hoseok looks to be thinking hard about something.

“Okay, so… this might not lead anywhere, but if you’re stuck and possibly trailing Ksung’s people anyway… rumor has it that Ksung has been paying off the cops for a while. Not sure what station, but maybe, someone–at least up until around two months ago–used to meet up with someone at seven a.m. on the fifteenth of every month. Like I said, it’s supposedly around two hours away from here, essentially smack dab in the middle between the closest stations, but given your previous colleagues’... reluctance to follow the law, it might be worth checking out.”

“But they’ve been on the run for months now,” Sana questions, “If Ksung has been paying for police protection or their deliberate ignorance, then what would be the point now? They don’t have anything left to offer.”

“Their silence, maybe?” Hoseok tries to offer an explanation. “They could be blackmailing Ksung into giving them the money they need while on the run. Pay up, or they’ll tip someone off?”

“If what we think about Ksung is true, wouldn’t he just… get rid of them if that were the case? Can’t be that much of a leap between trafficking and murder? Especially if they’re a threat to everything Sunghyun built?”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting quite literally on the edge of your seat and looking at Sana. “Yeah, I honestly think so too. It wouldn’t make sense to let some of the most wanted people blackmail you like that. There’s a big risk that they’re caught and then they might blab and drag you down too. Better to get rid of them.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok adds, “But there were a lot of officers caught in the investigation, weren’t there?”

“Yeah. All fired,” Sana confirms.

“Again, I can’t promise it’ll help because it’s somewhat of a long shot, but what if you didn’t catch them all? What if…”

“--Someone’s still working at the station,” you continue where Hoseok trailed off. “And taking bribes?”

“And you think that person is helping Hoseong?” Sana wonders, her eyes wide.

“Don’t know, but what are the odds of two separate groups of officers being corrupt?”

You really don’t want to answer that.

Jihyo is surprised at your findings, but when you turn it around to look at it from another angle, it makes an awful lot more sense. Instead of questioning the odds of your two cases being connected, it’s not so strange to think that a criminal bank CEO might be bribing the town’s corrupt police. It’s just strange for you to have found yourself in the middle of it.

“So what do we do?” Sana whispers, glancing at Jihyo’s closed office door behind her.

“Wait. What’s today’s date?” Jihyo asks, her eyes going wide as she realizes what you’ve already had time to see.

“January fourteenth,” Sana explains.

Jihyo looks at you and Sana and the look you give each other. “No. We should wait for backup; the outsourced detectives will be here in a week.”

“We’ll miss the window,” you argue quietly.

Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “What if it’s not true? What if it’s a trap to get rid of you?”

“Set up by Hoseok? I don’t think so. He could’ve gotten rid of us today if he wanted to, and I don’t think he would; he saved us, after all.”

“Well, you more or less surprised him today, and people knew where you were, so it would’ve been stupid on his part. Getting rid of you while you’re ‘looking for someone else’ would be a better plan. And like you’ve said before, when he saved your life, he didn’t know that you were investigating him yet. Now that he does, he might’ve just been waiting for an opportunity. What are the odds of you finding all of this out on the fourteenth when the supposed meeting is taking place tomorrow?”

Well, when she’s putting it like that you have to agree that there’s a risk. Not a big one, you don’t think, but a risk nonetheless.

“I want to go,” you say before lowering the volume of your voice further, “If there is someone here still… if there’s a mole, we need to… we need to act as soon as possible. The longer we wait, even if we try to be discreet, the higher the risk of him finding out.”

Jihyo sighs, lifting her hand to rub her forehead until she seemingly decides.

“Fine. Do you want to go tomorrow? Together? Maybe you should bring someone else as well?”

“Who? We don’t know who the mole or informant is, and if you suggest bringing Jeongguk…” you trail off. Jeongguk is great, but this is not his area of expertise.

“He’ll want to go, regardless.”

“He’s not a detective.”

“He’s out on a call right now?” Sana asks.

Jihyo nods. “Yeah, I think so. Out patrolling, at least.”

“Don’t tell him,” Sana suggests.

“You don’t think it’s him, right?” Jihyo asks in disbelief.

Sana continues, “No, but… the more people who know, the bigger the risk. I think he’ll do more good here, keeping up the charades.”

A few hours later, you’re already in the car, heading toward the spot Hoseok pointed out on a map. The meeting isn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow morning, which gives you a valuable opportunity to scope the place out beforehand.

The sun has set by the time you reach a hill, the road ending in an empty cul-de-sac with a low stone wall overlooking the arches of a large, gray viaduct. There’s a road running parallel to you, only on the other side of the wall, below the hill. It doesn’t pass under the viaduct, which stands almost perpendicular to you, but instead turns to run alongside it. You lean your gloved hands against the stone wall, following the road and its sidewalk below with your eyes. 

The meeting point is supposedly a few meters from the sidewalk, up underneath the viaduct’s closest arches. From this spot, you can’t see beyond the arch, except for a few bushes and trees. It looks like it might be downhill.

Hidden by the elevation, the stone wall, and some trees, the current spot will be where you park the car tomorrow, and before checking in at a nearby hotel for the night, you decide to also check out the other side of the viaduct.

“So, how does it feel to be back for real?” Sana asks, stepping out of the bathroom and putting her toothbrush in her mouth.

Sitting on the bed, you flip through the TV channels. “Uh, good. I really missed this… feeling of having a purpose?”

She pauses the brushing, toothbrush still in her mouth as she speaks. “Mhm, I get what you’re saying. And… how does it feel, knowing that there might be someone we… missed?”

You take a moment to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m so used to walking around the hallways, paranoid of who might be waiting around the corner. Waiting for me to be alone somewhere. After a while, you just don’t have the energy to be that scared anymore.”

Sana nods in understanding, brushing her teeth thoroughly for another few seconds before she enters the bathroom again to spit the foam into the sink.

“Did you know that I basically didn’t fight them at all when they came for us during the undercover assignment?” you ask, fiddling with the remote on the white bedspread.

“Jeongguk mentioned something about feeling like you’d given up, but not a lot more. He wanted us to stay close and check up on you; said he thought the last year had taken a bigger toll on you than we’d assumed.”

“Yeah. I’ve been so scared for such a long time; felt for so long that I stand no chance whenever they actually decide to try it. I didn’t think there was any use in fighting them when they came, so I just… stood there. I closed my eyes.”

“But Jeongguk saved you.”

“He did, yeah. Let himself be stabbed by a fucking samurai sword.”

Sana’s quiet as she exits the bathroom again, a white robe in her arms. 

You let out a deep breath. “What would you do? If you were me?”

Immediately understanding, she sits down on the other bed. “I don’t know. I want to say that I’d give him a chance, but I think it might be easier said than done.”

You look down at your hands. “Yeah.”

“I do believe he’s a good guy, and I think he’s learned his lesson, but a relationship can’t depend on whether he’s good or not, if he deserves you, or whether you should forgive him, can it?”

“It shouldn’t?” you raise your eyebrow at her, smiling a little.

“No, I mean, you shouldn’t be with him if the answer to those questions is ‘no,’ but the next question is just… Do you want to be with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then… does being with him make you happy?”

You feel your whole body practically answer her question. Your eyes drop sadly to the bedspread again, and your shoulders lift a little anxiously. “I think he makes me feel inadequate.”

She looks at you sadly. “You know that you’re not, though, right? You get to feel that way, and he has no say over your feelings because he’s the one who caused them, but you’re more than enough. We’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.”

Nodding slowly, you take another deep breath, getting up from the bed to brush your own teeth.

Usually, you find it hard to wake up fully when the sun has yet to rise and it’s freezing cold. Even the hotel’s hard but warm bed would be tempting you to stay in. But not today. The moment the alarm blares, you’re already reaching for your phone to quiet it, sitting up and looking around. On the other bed, not far from yours, Sana is rubbing her eyes and yawning. Today’s the day you might actually find a good lead.

Due to the nature of today’s assignment, you’re armed, just in case, and you’re clipping small body cameras to your thick, black jackets. On your head, you’ve got black beanies, and your hands are gloved as well to withstand the cold.

The sun still hasn’t made it far on its journey across the sky when you park the car in the same spot as you did yesterday. 

“I’m in my position,” Sana informs through the earpiece. You dropped her off closer to the other side of the viaduct, where she’s currently hiding a little farther down a walkway and behind some parked cars. 

“Good. Me too,” you confirm, leaning your elbows against the wall. Thanks to the trees and the relative distance, you’re well hidden as you kneel behind the stone wall, focusing on the meeting point through your black binoculars.

“It’s five fifty a.m., and we’re both in position,” you repeat, more so for the recordings.

“And so we wait,” Sana concludes.

Despite the thick jackets, it doesn’t take long before you’re freezing. If you could, you’d sit in the car, at least to be protected from the biting wind, but the angle from there wouldn’t let you see over the wall. Sana complains quietly about her fingers while your cheeks hurt the most. Every glance at your watch is painful.

Six fifty arrives, and you focus further. But there’s no one. Once every few minutes, a car or two passes on the road below you, but that’s it. Seven o’clock. Still no one. You’re starting to fear that maybe you missed them? Did they change location? Or maybe they decided on another time? What if they really just stopped meeting up, altogether? Hoseok didn’t seem too sure, after all. You bite your lip, trying to keep your cold body still. If there is an informant, you need to catch him.

Then, at seven twenty, you hear something. It’s the rustling of thick fabric as Sana adjusts her position.

“Dark-clothed male, moving in. 4 o’clock.”

As slowly and inconspicuously as you can, to not draw attention, you turn your head. Sure enough, a man is walking on the sidewalk below and to your right. 

Just like you, he’s dressed in all black, a bulky jacket covering most of his body except his legs. He’s got the hood pulled over his head and his hands in his pockets.

“Can you get a visual of his face?” you ask, watching wide-eyed as he passes below you.

“No, he’s got something–a shirt or something–pulled up over his mouth and nose.”

“Okay, looks like he’s headed for the viaduct,” you say, waiting to see if he follows the sidewalk as it turns to run parallel to the viaduct, or if he steps in under the arch. “We’ll wait and see if anyone else shows.”

But the man doesn’t stop to wait for someone. He steps off the sidewalk, casually walking over to the closest of the huge pillars, graffitied in blue and green, and swiftly retrieves something from under a small bush. A bag?

“It’s a dead drop,” Sana exclaims as the man continues on his path, heading in her direction. It only took a few seconds, and anyone less observant would’ve missed the pickup. 

“Do you recognize him?” you ask, on the edge of your seat. “Can you follow?”

You’re too far away to follow him on foot, and driving down would be impractical and likely draw his attention, so you stay put.

Instead, Sana moves, the rustling loud in your ears, and you hold your breath. It’s always more nerve-wracking to watch someone else pursue and track a target than doing it yourself. If this man discovers her, you don’t know what will happen, much less what he’ll do if he recognizes her.

The man disappears from view, and for a while, all you hear is Sana’s breathing and that same occasional rustling of her jacket as she moves. Then, there’s a bout of silence before her quiet, shocked voice comes through. 

“I can’t follow him further; he’s getting into a black car. I… I think it’s JJ.”

As quickly as possible, you drive back to the station, wondering if you ever missed a clue about JJ. Considering how many men work at the station and how you’ve had to keep a very close eye on some of them, JJ has flown under your radar a bit. The tall man wasn’t anyone you’ve paid much attention to or interacted with, but he never came across as weird or suspicious; just as a regular man. He never outright harassed you, but he never stood up for you either, but then again, he wasn’t the only one using that approach. Additionally, you’ve seen him with Jeongguk a bunch of times, and you figured Jeongguk had cleared all the remaining men. Not that it’s Jeongguk’s fault, but still; you don’t think he’s easy to fool.

“How sure are you?” Jihyo asks in a hushed voice, her worried eyes flitting between you, Sana, and the closed office door. You know JJ is already at the station, you walked past him in the hallway, dressed in uniform. You weren’t able to follow the man, but considering you had to wait a bit and then drive down to collect Sana, it’s entirely plausible he made it back before you.

“Like eighty percent. It was hard to see, but… I’m pretty sure. Don’t know if I captured anything of value, but we can go through the recordings to be sure?”

“Maybe we can look through the work schedule as well?” you suggest. “If he hasn’t been clocked in at seven to eight a.m. on the fifteenth of the last few months–probably since they went on the run–then–” 

“–We still can’t rule him out,” Jihyo interrupts sadly. “Even if he’s been clocked in, he–maybe together with his partner–could’ve simply driven there while on duty, assuming they weren’t on an active call. Maybe not super likely, but not impossible. So if he’s been clocked in, we’d need to look at those exact hours and place him on specific calls.”

“Which might take a while,” Sana adds, and you nod, realizing that she’s right.

Your heart races. “So what do we do?”

“His car’s in the garage, right?”

Jihyo gives Sana a warning look. “We’ll need a warrant to search it, and this is not enough for one.” 

“But not to take a look through the window,” you say, biting your lip and meeting Sana’s eyes.

You wait for Jihyo’s objection, but it doesn’t come. “Be careful,” she whispers instead, following you toward the door. “If there’s one, there might be more.”

“Yes, boss.”

Being the first one to step out of Jihyo’s office, you glance the other way, just in case JJ happens to be watching. However, you don’t look where you’re going, and of course, you run headfirst into someone’s chest.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, its owner steadying you by your arms. Of course. 

Embarrassed, you look up, only to meet Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s dressed head to toe in uniform, the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, tattoos and all, and it’s clear that he’s on his way out to patrol. You didn’t know he was really patrolling again, but then again, it doesn’t seem like they were getting anywhere on your case, and well… you don’t talk much these days. Like always when he’s near, your heart rate picks up, and your skin heats under his hands despite the fabric between you.

“Uh, sorry,” you apologize, looking away. You know you’re normally a pretty good actress, but today, you just feel too wound up and on edge. Jeongguk holds onto your arms, his observant eyes gazing over you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” you say with a nod, glancing at Sana. “But we need to go.”

But Jeongguk doesn’t give up. “There’s something’s going on, isn’t there?”

“No,” you lie again.

“You’re making me worried.”

“You don’t need to be.”

His gaze flickers between you and Sana, and even though you don’t think he’s completely buying it, he lets go. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find out anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, already moving away. Technically, you being ‘off’ can simply be explained by the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around him.

After getting rid of Jeongguk, you and Sana enter the station’s parking garage. The personnel floor is empty, save for about twenty to thirty vehicles, Jeongguk’s motorcycle included. Still, you make sure to look around before you start.

“What did the car look like?” you ask, peering through the back window of the closest one, a small dark blue car.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out much besides the color and size. It was black and a pretty small one, I think.”

You look around. Almost all cars are black. Or at least dark enough to be mistaken for black. "Do we even know what his actual car looks like?"

“Well... Let’s just check all of them. Just to be safe.”

Even though you make sure to check carefully, the process goes quickly. Until Sana calls your name quietly, the black car in front of her being her sixth or seventh.

“That could be it, right?” she points toward something barely visible, halfway under the passenger seat. But yeah, it looks like black fabric, maybe part of a small bag, but you can’t be entirely sure.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“If we could only look inside,” Sana mutters.

“Yeah,” you sigh, your shoulder dropping in disappointment. “But all he did was maybe pick up a bag of unknown contents outside. It’s not enough. Should we just check the rest of them and then head back?”

Sana nods, “I’ll finish this row.”

Jihyo is still in her office when you return, having found nothing but the maybe-bag. She’s pacing on the phone to someone, motioning for you to enter when you cautiously peek your head through the door.

“Okay… Just get back to me as soon as you can, alright?” she says, sitting down behind her desk. “Yeah, okay, bye.”

“We saw what we think could be the bag, halfway hidden under the seat of a car that looks about the one the man got into,” Sana explains quietly after you’ve closed the door behind you.

“Okay, so nothing’s ruled out and nothing’s confirmed,” Jihyo concludes.

You nod, trying to think of the next steps. “Well, what if we review the camera footage? We were probably too far away, but you never know, right? And Jihyo, you could check the schedules and work hours, start cross-checking them with the calls responded to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about him.”

For a few hours, you work in Jihyo’s office, all three of you focused. Jihyo sits behind her desk,  trying to see if she can match JJ to specific calls on any recent fifteenths and thus provide him with an alibi. 

Sana sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, her laptop open in front of her as she goes through every frame of your recordings, and you sit on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through both your phone and laptop. 

“Finding anything?” Sana wonders, sighing in frustration–a sign that the recordings aren’t giving her anything useful.

“Maybe…” Jihyo replies, eyes locked on her screen. “Can you read line thirty-seven for me?” She hands Sana a sheet of paper listing the calls.

“Sure. Uh… Call about vandalism came at six twenty-seven a.m., reported closed at eight thirty-two. October fifteenth, last year.”

“Six twenty-seven to eight thirty-two,” Jihyo repeats as you scroll through JJ’s instagram, clicking on yet another tagged friend.

“Mhm,” Sana hums.

“Well, he was clocked in… But it seems like… yeah, Min and Mark were the ones who responded to it.”

The room feels… tense in a way, something Jihyo is about to put into words. Meanwhile, you focus on your phone, fingers tapping away quickly and your heartbeat rising.

“Doesn’t seem like we can rule him out. Which, you know, sucks because we all trust him–maybe trusted him–and we don’t want yet another one to have betrayed us. But if it is him, then maybe… we might finally be getting somewhere? Maybe?”

“Yeah, I agree. Don’t like the direction we’re moving in, but at least we’re moving.”

“Hey, guys,” you say, your eyes still glued to the screen in your hands. “JJ has a stepsister named Jimin.”

“What?” Sana exclaims, her voice hushed and eyes wide as she turns to you.

“Yeah. JJ’s mom seems to be dating this Jimin’s dad, but it doesn’t look like they’re married; not even like they live together.”

“So there are no ties on paper?”

“No, no ties.”

All three of you exchange silent looks, realizing what this could mean. You might have an address.

After discussing your findings–all hushed voices and big eyes as you conclude that, yeah, maybe Jimin visited her brother at the station and stumbled across Hoseong–you decide to take a break. You need to pee and Sana complained only a minute ago of her rumbling stomach. To be fair, you haven’t had time to take any real breaks, much less eat.

Determined, you leave the office, discreetly looking around before heading toward the bathroom. Sana leaves for the cafeteria.

After using the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet lid to gather your thoughts. It almost feels like you need to catch your breath, too. Do you dare hope that you might finally get them? Still, you find yourself imagining what you’d do if that were the case. It’s not like they’ve haunted you for decades, but even a few months stretching into years feels like such a long time. A lifetime, almost. You experienced life at the station before everything went down, but is it even possible to return to that? Maybe it isn’t; you’re not the same person anymore.

Still thinking deeply about what this revelation might mean, you head back toward Jihyo’s office. Occasionally–like now–the white halls are empty, but as you approach the wooden door with the frosted window, you hear voices inside. They’re not abnormally loud per se, but louder than they should be.

You open the door, and for a moment, the voices fall silent. Already back, Sana stands with a Saran-wrapped bread bun and coffee in her hands. Jihyo sits behind her desk as usual, her laptop open and the call papers scattered across her normally tidy desk. And Jeongguk is standing in front of it, still in his uniform, wild eyes looking back at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything for the better,” you say, stepping in fully and closing the door behind you. “You’re with the guys more than we are. We don’t want them to find out.”

“There’s a risk anyway,” he says, turning to Jihyo, “We need to go there as soon as possible.”

Jihyo meets his gaze, her expression understanding but firm. “Jeongguk, like I said, we need to wait for backup. We’re understaffed, and there’s too much of a risk that they’ll recognize you. Besides, all of you inside this room are too emotionally involved at this point.”

His hands fly out, and though he tries to keep his voice down, frustration seeps through. “They were allowed to watch JJ accept a bribe in the first place?” he argues.

“Yes, and that was risky enough. If they recognize you, they’ll probably try to kill you. They’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess to begin with. Just hang in there until backup arrives.”

He shakes his head in frustration and disbelief. “This is crazy. They’ve tried to kill her so many times, and someone connected to them is still here. For all we know, he could be planning something on their behalf as we speak!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I understand you’re frustrated; we all are, but this is the best course of action.”

He gestures toward you, “She needs to leave in that case. She can’t stay here.”

To be honest, you’re not that scared of JJ. He’s never seemed particularly interested in you, and you don’t think he’s planning to kill you or anything like that. Months have passed without you even suspecting he might be involved, and nothing has happened. Sure, you were mostly with Jeongguk until recently and not that often at the station, so while the opportunities might not have been plentiful, JJ has had his chances.

Jihyo sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s up to her.”

He turns to face you fully. “Come stay with me? Take a week off, stay at my place.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m staying at my place, and I’ll continue to work if I feel like it.”

“Please?”

You’ll never stop being surprised at how easily Jeongguk lets go of his pride. But by doing it so quickly, with so few reservations, it’s almost as if he grows in your eyes. You try not to think about him in that way.

You shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that you need to save me all the time. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He glances around at the three women in the room, none giving him the support he wants. He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly, someone calls for him on his com radio.

“Go,” Jihyo instructs as Jeongguk gives you one last longing look before quickly exiting through the door.

Jeongguk can’t shake the new information, and as the day progresses, it keeps gnawing at him, his mind turning over every possible option again and again. While that last call–regarding a break-in—kept him distracted for a bit, his thoughts return as he enters the station again, Min heading off to the cafeteria.

He knows you’ve already gone home by the time he’s clocking out and heading for the locker room, still unsure of what to do. It terrifies him to know that there’s still someone who might want to hurt you, walking these halls. That he missed someone. 

He’s got three options to choose from. The first: go home. Get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. And then just hope that JJ didn’t spot you this morning and is waiting to attack you outside your apartment door. Jeongguk knows that it’s what you want him to do; go home and not get involved. But he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to you.

Option two is to drive to your apartment and sit in his car outside it all night. He’ll do it if needed, but it’s not very tempting, and it’ll render him useless at work tomorrow. Additionally, if nothing happens tonight–which, yeah, it might not–then he’ll need to guard you the night after as well. Sooner or later, he’ll need to sleep.

Biting his lip, he enters the locker room, taking a lap to make sure he’s alone before pulling out his phone. Google gives him the number to the nearest car rental, and he wastes no time, pressing ‘dial.’

He’s picking option three, and he needs a car that isn’t his.

<previous | next>

author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3

[opbackgrounds]

The Romanticism of One Piece I: Definition

Part II Full essay posted on AO3 here

“Romanticism is the star which weeps” —Alfred de Musset

One Piece is a Romance. It’s the title of the opening chapter as well as the first volume, and was liked enough by Oda that he recycled it for the first chapter and volume after the time skip. Sprinkled throughout the story Luffy and others will declare certain moments to be romantic. But what does that actually mean?

If you go to website for Mirriam-Webster and scroll down to the fourth definition, you’ll read that romance is “a: marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized 

b: often capitalized : of, relating to, or having the characteristics of romanticism”

It’s this second aspect of romance that I want to focus on today, because while One Piece is imaginative, and emotional, and adventurous, the roots of the manga dig much deeper than these superficial traits and tap into the much bigger movement that at one point dominated the Western World. 

As with many things, Romanticism is a concept that at its face seems quite simple, but the more you try to pin down specifics the more it squirms into something amorphous and difficult to define. In his lectures on Romanticism, Isaiah Berlin described it as, “the greatest single shift in consciousness of the West” before spending an entire hour of his introductory lecture trying to distill it down to its purest essence. In the Romantic movement we find our modern ideas of imagination, childhood, and sentimentality. Its influence dominated everything from politics, philosophy, poetry, literature, art, music and architecture. From the Romantics was born the Nationalism of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, which would lead to tragic results in the 20th. It spanned Europe and America, the Western world alight with hope after the French Revolution only to watch with horror as it was followed by the Reign of Terror, Napoleon, and the wars he brought to the rest of the continent. 

Pinpointing dates is difficult, but for simplicity’s sake it’s easiest to put it as lasting from approximately the mid 1700s through the mid to late 1800s. As Romanticism was a pan-European movement, it didn’t hit every place at the same time. It swept from France through Europe and eventually America at its own pace, blooming and dying independently of one another, with various precursor movements such as the Storm and Stress era in Germany, as well as holdovers lasting well after the golden age ended, the last embers clinging on until the First World War. Romanticism picked up the local flavor of wherever it went, the Romantic ideals of France related but not identical to the Romantic ideals of Germany, just as the Romanticism of William Wordsworth wasn’t the same as the Romanticism of Lord Byron. 

When attempting to define Romanticism, it is perhaps easiest to see it in what it was trying to push back against. As with every movement, the Romantics were in conversation with the past, in their case the Enlightenment thinkers of the 17th and early 18th centuries. The Enlightenment as a movement is just as difficult to pin down as the Romantics, but on the whole it said that there was one, specific way men should live their lives, that there was a formula for happiness and improvement of the human condition using reason, science, and an appropriate methodology. While the various Enlightenment figures all disagreed what that methodology was, for the most part they all agreed that it existed. It favored cold, hard logic, a celebration of science and of learning, and was hopeful for a future where humanity could better itself through its own effort by understanding the universe in which it lived. 

The Romantics looked at all of this, and said…no. 

There are other factors to consider when discussing Romanticism, such as the increase in urbanization following the Industrial Revolution and the political instability brought on by corrupt, crumbling monarchies and the revolutions they spurned, but in my mind this defiant no is the beating heart of Romanticism. It’s a philosophy that emphasizes the self over all, prioritizing feeling over reason and experience over logic. In fact, to the Romantic, there was no knowledge without feeling.

Institutions such as the church lost some of their power even as the Romantics became more obsessed with spirituality and the occult. The idealized, pastoral past of their beloved romantic ballads was yearned for even as revolts broke out against the monarchies that ruled in those stories of old. There was veneration of the child and the so-called Noble Savage, who were free from the corrupting forces of society and civilization. Freedom was the rallying cry, with abolition, women’s, and animal rights movements all stirring within this time period, but there was no greater freedom than the freedom of self. To do what you wanted when you wanted to do it.

There was a preoccupation with individual genius, and there was little that could bolster one’s career more than living fast and dying young. The Romantic world was one where death was frightfully common, with the increased density of the rapidly growing cities leading to frequent breakouts of disease even as populations boomed. Nearly half of children didn’t live to see their fifth birthday, and for those who did survive to adulthood, the political instability of the time made the future seem uncertain. Better then, to reject the all-consuming industry of the modern age and the cities that seemed to destroy more than they built in favor of spending time alone in the glories of nature and their own imagination, living as they pleased, beholden to no one but their own conscience. 

You’ll notice in the examples that I quote that most are white men and most of these men were well-educated. It’s a simple fact that the opportunities they were afforded were different than women and people of color, and their voices were amplified as a result. While there’s been increasing scholarship in recent years to diversify the canon, and there’s good fruit to be found, it must be acknowledged that the worldview shaped by the most famous Romantics is limited by this singular perspective.

That being said, there can be a more universal application to Romanticism, and One Piece proves that. The defiant no to the binding chains of society and the enthusiastic yes of personal freedom is something that we all feel at one point or another, and it’s what makes up the core of One Piece. Romanticism is a cosmic wanderlust, the ability to poeticize everything both great and small, the neverending search for, well…that depends on the person. But the important part is that they do search and they do dream. And it’s that search that I want to explore in more detail as I dig into specific aspects of Romanticism, and how One Piece applies.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: hate me, baby.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Stevie Nicks drones in your ear, her tones added to the airiness of the condo space. The melody guides your diligent work along with the list on your phone. The shelves should be done before the counters, so as to not do the same job twice. 

You look around for the step stool. There was a collapsible one there, nestled by the pantry. It’s not there that day. You guess Bucky wouldn’t have much use for it. He can probably reach everything just fine. You don’t want to be nosy by going on a full-blown search. You’ll just have to do your best. 

You stand on your toes and reach up blindly. Great. You’ll not get close to even the second highest shelf. Instead of cupboard doors, the plates are stacked openly on the shelves that line the brick. You like the look. Simple but tidy. 

You are going to have to find the stool if you want to do it right-- 

“Oop!” You exclaim as pressure clamps around your hips and suddenly, your feet are off the floor. You wriggle and grab onto the shelf to keep from flailing. 

You crane to see over your shoulder, looking back at Bucky as he holds you aloft. There’s no effort in the act. You’re nothing but a feather in his hands. You feel powerless in his grasp. You don’t dare to tell him to put your down or ask why he snuck up on you. 

“You can reach?” He asks. 

You nod and turn away from his stern expression. Despite the helpful act, he remains stoic and unreadable. You hate the sensation of having nothing between your feet and the height makes you slightly woozy. You’ll just have to be quick. 

You wipe along the top of the shelves as he sidles you along the length. An awkward tension crawls up your body from beneath his hold on you. His fingertips dip into your flesh as he keeps you steady. 

You do the next shelf, moving the plates to wipe beneath them before placing them back. It’s a delicate balance. Once you get to the third, you find your voice. You pause your music as you eke, “I can reach the rest, sir.” 

“You sure?” He checks with you. 

You nod. He puts you down gently, crowding you against the counter for a moment before he moves away. He turns and opens the metal fridge. You focus on your task, peeking briefly over as he pivots back to the other end of the counter. 

His hair is pulled back behind his head but several strands hang loose around his face. He has a black tank on, his thick arms exposed, flesh and metal, and a pair of shiny track pants on the bottom. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he loads the blender. He clears away the scraps and rinses off the spoon and knife he dirtied in his task. 

He hits the button and the blender whirs loudly. He angles to lean on the arm of the counter and reaches into his pants pockets. He takes out a long strip of fabric and stars to wind it around his wrist and hand. You’ve seen those. The things that boxers wear. 

He does only his real hand. The blender stops and he turns to fill a shaker with the smoothie. He goes for the sink and you clear your throat. 

“I can get that,” you offer. 

He glances over and shrugs. He grabs his shaker and doffs it at you with a nod. He passes you and heads for the stairs. You peek after him then move to rinse out the blender. That wasn’t terrible. You hope.  

You’ve done your best not be in his way since that first day. You’re still paranoid by his cryptic stares and long silences. You never minded quiet but this is the sort that gnaws at you. Aside from that, the job is manageable. 

You shiver as your hip brushes against a draw. You’re reminded of the weight of his hand there. Both his hands, around you, so easily holding you up. And what did you do but let him. 

The first heavy thump makes you wince. You spin and look up to the open hatch. He must have a bag up there or something. That makes sense since he wrapped his hand. He looked ready for a workout. It must be good stress relief to just punch something you can’t hurt. 

You tap play on your music. Heart starts to play. Your taste is a bit out dated but there’s no one to judge you. At the same time, you don’t have anyone to share it with. Sadly, most of the artists you love, you can’t even see in concert anymore. If you could ever afford that. 

The steady pounding of the punching bag continues from above. After a while, it’s almost comforting. You finish the kitchen and move on to the front room. As you fluff the couch pillows, the beating stops. There’s a hiss and Bucky snarls as he comes down the stairs swiftly. 

“Shit,” he hops past the last few steps and marches into the kitchen. You watch him in confusion as he raises his metal arm. He holds it up as he looks down and touches his side. He curses again as he swipes paper towel from the roll mounted to the wall. 

“Some help, doll?” He tosses over his shoulder. 

He’s talking to you. Right? You drop the pillow and take your earbud completely out. Something’s wrong. 

As you come around the arm of the counter, he turns to you, revealing the wet stain on his tank top. He holds out the paper towel with his other hand. “Pressure.” 

He gestures to his ribs. You take the paper towel with a tremble and push it against his middle. He puffs behind his teeth and reaches to his extended metal arm. You see the panel sticking out. It must’ve cut him. 

“Damn thing.” He growls. 

You blink and look at your hand. His blood seeps through and stains your fingers. You can smell the iron. You gape at the crimson smear as your heart pumps wildly. He pushes the panel flat and lowers his arm. He puts his hand over yours, spreading his thick fingers to completely cover yours. 

“You don’t like blood, do you?” He says. “I can hear your heart.” 

You slip your hand from beneath his as he takes the paper towel. He crumples up the sopping square and tuts. You turn and rush over to your kit. You fish out the pouch you keep tucked behind the sponges. You unzip it and return to him as you pluck out the roll of gauze. 

He considers the offer before he accepts it. Your eyes meet as his fingers brush yours. You quiver as his gaze bores through you. 

“You should wash your hands,” he takes the pouch too. “I got this.” 

He turns and stirs through the contents. You look at your hands then the sink. You go to the counter and twist the faucet on. What an unusual day. 

[room-surprise]

[SPOILERS BELOW]

Not to make an already long post longer, but saw these great tags and wanted to respond:

#dungeon meshi#i find these sorts of essays so insightful and a further testimony to how much thought miss kui puts in dunmesh#“cithis is doing female drag” is an incredible explanation and it makes so much sense to me now#im curious where kabru falls in the elven gender chart#cause hes not a super masculine person but he doesnt present himself really femininely as well#does marcille fall under being super feminine for elf standards#she doesnt use as heavy of makeup as cithis but imo she does emphasize her gender more by falling under a typically girly appearance#the way she styles her hair & the outfits she chooses to wear#this got me thinking of stuff i didnt even care about until 5 minutes ago lmao

I actually discuss exactly this in chapter 4 of The Essay in Marcille's section (starting under the heading "ELVEN SUPERIORITY"), that because Marcille is taller and heavier than most elves, and Kui shows repeatedly that she makes great efforts to be feminine (and gets upset when her femininity is questioned, or others don't obey gender norms the way she wants), I believe she is overcompensating by acting extra-feminine because she's afraid of people realizing she's a half-elf... Since everyone in-universe most likely believes "elves are small and feminine."

So failing to present in a feminine-enough way will make people assume she's a half-elf, and that has various social disadvantages.

Marcille is supposedly “not ashamed” of her half-elf status, however she hides it in her day-to-day life via omission and careful self-censoring, allowing people to believe that she is a full elf. The World Guide says that Marcille doesn’t tell people the truth because it would be “a hassle” or “too difficult” to explain, but the way this is phrased makes me think Kui is telling us this is only an excuse. Saying something is “too difficult” is a polite Japanese way of saying “no” or refusing to do it, so the implication is that Marcille simply doesn’t want to disclose her multi-racial status to anyone. It would be “a hassle” to explain because if people know she’s a half-elf, Marcille will have to defend herself and her family against all the assumptions she knows people will make: That her mother is a sub-standard, low-class elf scamming the short-lived races for her own benefit, that her father was a pathetic idiot that was seduced, and that Marcille is a foolish, immoral and incompetent half-breed who is jealous of real elves and desperately wants to be accepted by them, and is bitter about her inability to have children. She’ll have to explain that she isn’t like that, and probably not even be believed, so it’s better not to let anyone know that she’s a half-elf at all.

I think to elves, more than anything Marcille reads as a foreigner, she's not a REAL elf because she wasn't born in the west and she doesn't actually conform to their social standards, she doesn't know how elves dress, talk or act, because she was raised in the east.

Kui tricks us into thinking Marcille and Fionil are normal elves because they're the only ones we see for such a long time, but once a lot of actual elves from the west show up, we can see that they're very different from them, both in physical appearance, grooming and clothing, not to mention personality and behavior.

Marcille and Fionil are emotional and expressive, but the elves are (generally) much more cold and stoic... When we do see emotions from them, it's usually anger, not sadness or happiness.

Compare Marcille's elaborate ever-changing hairstyles to how every western elf has an extremely simple, minimalist hairstyle. Her weird, complicated outfit versus the extreme minimalism of elven clothing.

I believe this is in some ways a parallel Kui is making to Japanese culture, where Japanese people who have spent time outside of Japan are considered foreign, and often bullied or discriminated against for that, even if they are 100% ethnically Japanese. They've been "tainted" by living or being born overseas, and can never be "really Japanese" no matter what they do or how long they live in Japan.

As for Kabru...

Honestly there isn't really anything feminine about his presentation in my opinion, compared to other men in the story. He's just a beautiful fantasy South Asian man who was raised by both a mother "from a good family" and an elven noblewoman who gave him an extremely thorough education.

He wears the same clothing as all the other male characters, he's an extremely skilled and brutal physical fighter, he's a good leader, he doesn't wear makeup (Kui has told us several other characters do though!)... He's just naturally very beautiful, with long dark eyelashes and facial features common to Asian people, like a small nose, almond-shaped eyes and a small chin. These are traits that are often perceived as "more feminine", but many Asian men have them.

He's a sophisticated, cultivated gentleman with the old timey equivalent of a college education. He speaks multiple languages and knows about all the different world cultures, including their etiquette. None of these things are feminine, in fact in many ways he'd be considered the ideal upper-class man throughout most of history, someone who should work in a high level government position or rule a country.

He's like a prince, a nobleman, he's dreamy, he's ideal husband material, etc.

To the elves I think his gender presentation just seems "correct", and I imagine he often gets backhanded compliments like "wow, you act so much like an elf!" by which they mean "you almost act like a civilized human being! That's amazing, I didn't know tall-men could do that! You must be working really hard to reach our level."

So to the elves, he is androgynous but that's a good thing, and he seems to be masculine by their standards.

Probably this means he seems a bit androgynous or effeminate by the standards of the Eastern hemisphere (where Dungeon Meshi takes place) but that is because those standards are pretty harsh, and seem to be somewhat misogynistic... Remember, the dwarves (who set a lot of the cultural standards in the East) only respect people who have a beard, and they expect their women to shave. Meaning only bearded older men are considered "people" who matter and can impact society.

So until Kabru grows a beard (or glues one on) he'll probably be looked down on, and seen as a "lesser" category of man no matter what he does... But he knows the social etiquette for the societies in the Eastern hemisphere, so I think he's able to blend in and present "correctly" among them if he wants to.

Basically it depends on how dwarf-like the people Kabru interacts with are. To anyone who is deep into dwarven social norms (dwarves themselves, tall-men of the Northern Continent), he probably seems "too elf-like" to be considered a real man...

But people who follow gnomish social norms (gnomes and some of the tall-men in the Eastern Continent) might find him perfect, romantic ideal husband material, as I said. The kind of wonderful guy girls dream about marrying.

I could keep going but I wanted to try and keep this short LMAO it's a HUGE topic though, and incredibly complicated.

Basically I think Kabru's mostly just a Guy, and he's flexible enough to code switch to convey his Guy-ness to whomever he's around.

cithis's overtly feminine presentation is so fun to me... the long dress and the cleavage window and the makeup and the fact that she's the only one who changes super noticeably in the genderswap is just . Idk its cool, esp with how androgynous all the other elves are

It is very cool! Cithis has a very overt gender presentation that we don't really see in other elves, even Otta who makes a point to present as male doesn't read as super masculine to the level of "hyper-feminine" that Cithis is

Elves seem to have their own fashion preferences independent of gender (from what we can tell from the gender swap)

Which makes sense, Lycion himself wears a very feminine hairstyle even in the original, so Pattadol also keeping the same hairstyle while she's a man is consistent! Meanwhile Cithis seems to be way more conscious of her own gender when dressing?

I wonder if presenting more feminine is more common than presenting more "masculine" for elves? Would a male elf dressed like Cithis be strange? I don't think Cithis is completely unique in how feminine she is cause we do see a few other elves with similar traits. Flamela has a exposed cleavage, Mysil has a long skirt, Daltian clan "Aunt Uranesse" seems very feminine with makeup and adorned hair, Cithis has it all at once but the pieces aren't unique I guess is what I'm saying

They say that for the most part there isn't much difference between male and female fashion but even here we have an elf in what we would call a "feminine" looking long dress

I wonder if those are things that male elves could wear without other elves finding it strange too 🤔

I wonder if there's an equivalent for "very masculine" in elf fashion, tbh I don't know what that would even look like, male Cithis just wears a very average looking version of the uniform (minus the boots and arm armor) even the neck piece is on instead of her choker. Otta does "dress like a man" to the point other elves get her gender wrong tho so there must be an equivalent? (besides the fact she wears the male uniform) Or maybe is her behavior along with the fashion that makes them read her as masculine and the fashion alone wouldn't?

Anyway it is very interesting!!! But I have no idea what to make of it!!!! Elf gender studies when

[meelusinee]

A YULE PROPOSAL | J.P X READER

word count \ 1.1k | fluff and stuff | slash / james potter x reader

in which james asks you out to the Yule Ball author's note at the end!

A YULE PROPOSAL | JAMES POTTER X READER

James Potter was many things.

He was a cheerful kind of person. Always upbeat, always uplifting no matter what. He was popular, almost anyone wanting to be with him or be him. A bit of a jock, though caring nonetheless. Loving to a fault, fault line nonexistent in his mind.

Though one thing that anyone could tell when looking at him was that he was in love with you. 

You were always being spoiled by him. He’d get you expensive gifts, or take you on expensive trips. Small cafe dates, shopping for clothes and jewelry, or making any small gift was a specialty of his. He adored spoiling you, in any sense of the word.

And now it was Yule season coming up. He was nervous to ask you, even though he knew you'd say yes. You two were dating, after all.

So, he had to come up with a plan.

“Are you serious James?” Remus asked, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion and desperation. “You don’t actually expect us to do this, do you?”

“Yup!” he smiled brightly at Remus. “You’re gonna do it with me, right Pads?”

“Course I am!” he chuckled brightly, standing up and patting James on the back proudly. “Anything to spend my mom’s money on useless stuff.”

“It’s not useless!” he gasped offendedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said, patting James on the head as best as he could. It wasn’t much, but it was an honest effort. “Whatever you say, Prongs.”

“Course it’s what I say,” he grumbled before sighing, looking at Remus and Peter. “Please?”

“10 Galleons.” Remus said sternly, holding his palm out. “I want payment or I’m not doing it. 20 and I’ll give you the best damn performance.”

“30 and I get to dress you up.” Sirius smirked, hands on his hips.

“50.” he said, voice as deadpanned as he could make it. James knew he would do it for free, that was what Remus was like. But this seemed too funny to interrupt, if he was being honest.

“Deal.” Sirius said with a wide smirk on his face, fiddling with his pockets before putting the 50 Galleons in his hand. “Pete? 50 Galleons?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked.

“Nope.” Sirius said with a smile.

Peter sighed softly, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Sirius said excitedly, him and James jumping up and down.

“Okay, I have a game.” he said, pulling out a large piece of rolled paper to lay against the Common Room’s coffee table.

There was a large amount of rain hitting your window, your eyes focused on the paper that you were studying. It was nearing the end of the exams, not just Yule season.

Speaking of Yule season, you were quite excited. James hadn’t asked you to go to the ball. You knew that it was probably just stress though, so you weren’t too mad about it.

He had exams just like you, not to mention leading the Quidditch team and tolerating his friends’ pranks. Most times, you weren’t sure how he did it.

All in all, he had a lot of responsibilities.

Which is why you didn’t mind if he didn’t ask you to go to the ball. You decided to take a break from studying, looking outside of the window. Your eyes squinted to look at the different trees and forms of nature outside, the breeze running through your room.

“M’lady!” 

Your eyes squinted a bit harder as you heard someone calling, looking down at the ground. There stood Peter, one of James' friends. 

You stuck your head out of the window confusedly, looking down at him. “Pete?”

“M’lady!” he smiled brightly, though a bit awkwardly.

You chuckled at that, though you weren’t sure why he was standing in the cold like that. “Why are you just standing outside?”

“I am awaiting the Majesty.” he said, voice echoing through the night. 

“The what?” you smiled awkwardly.

Then came the sound of neighing, though you could tell it wasn’t from an actual horse. You frowned, making your way downstairs and towards the door he was standing in front of.

“What on Earth,” you muttered confusedly.

There stood James with Remus and Sirius behind him, all three of them riding the fake pony sticks you’d buy as a child at a muggle store. 

“We are here on behalf of Your Majesty, James Potter.” Sirius called out, dismounting himself from the fake horse. “He has requested your presence at the annual Yule Ball hosted in the Great Hall.”

“That rhymed,” Peter said with a small smile, chuckling softly. Sirius laughed loudly at that, with Remus stealing the paper from his hand.

“M’lady,” he said. “Sir James Potter, son of Fleamont Potter and first of his name, formally invites you, Y/N L/N, to the Yule Ball. Filled with fond fellowship and fellow acquaintances at the end of this month.”

James was standing behind Remus with a hopeful grin, the smile that you had come to love more than anything after years together.

“What is your response, Madame?” Remus said. His voice was incredibly deadpan, unlike Sirius and Peter’s laughter in the background. No doubt that he had practiced this.

“Yes,” you chuckled softly, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out what was going on. In all honesty, you felt like you were in a fever dream.

“Yes!”’James cheered excitedly, jumping up and down and running around the field. Sirius followed after him in his dog form, barking excitedly as James cheered excitedly.

You chuckled quietly as you watched him run around, smiling as Peter came closer and crowned you with a paper crown.

“Thank you, Knight Pete.” you chuckled.

James eventually calmed down after a couple of minutes, walking up to you out of breath. “Hi love,”

“Hi James,” you laughed as you saw him try to catch his breath, moving the hair out of his face as best as you could. “Did you have fun?”

“I did!” he smiled gleefully, looking at you. “Did you?”

“Yes, I did.” you smiled softly.

He nodded, pulling you into a hug. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear, squeezing your body in his arms. “I really wanted you to have a good proposal. It did take me some time to think of it though.”

You smiled softly, hugging him back before you heard Sirius groaning.

“Lovebirds!” he groaned, making a ‘bleh’ sound. 

“Oh hush!” James called out, throwing a ball of paper at him before turning over to you. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Later.” you promised, kissing his lips.

He smiled brightly at that, mounting his fake sticky horse and running off. Remus said a rather fancy farewell to you, climbing on the back of Sirius’ horse and running off. Peter was last, following them all to wherever they came from.

God, you loved James.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks for everything yawl are doing, it's really so amazing just how supportive all of you guys are! it's really shocking sometimes, to be honest wit you. thank you all so much, and hopefully you enjoyed!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! have a happy new year lovelies!

[irenedubrovna]

I am aware that Caitlyn is not a dictator. She is an authoritative figure. She is a cog in a strict regime. Ambessa is trying to cease control on behalf of another nation, and she’s using Caitlyn as a means to that end. Power is another prevalent theme in this show. Who has it, who doesn’t, how far people are willing to go to attain it, actual ascension. These themes all feed into each other. Some of them better than others.

Anyhow, I do not think lazy implies a COMPLETE lack of effort. Rather, as it pertains to what I said, it is a failure to put an effort into planning your story out in a way that thoroughly addresses the most important aspects. They clearly had things that they preferred to focus on, and those things took up a fair bit of real estate as far as runtime goes.

For example, the alternate universe episode. I liked it. Solid writing, good execution, served a function within the story, but it was not necessary. I am someone who loves Ekko. He’s literally my favorite character in the series. I honestly think this episode derailed the ongoing plot though. With so few episodes to tell this story, creating an Ekko x Powder AU episode feels more self indulgent than anything. This is subjective, mind you.

Writer’s rooms have story bibles. There is a hierarchy of what is most important to the series ie: characters, plot, themes, etc. These are established in advance. The end is not always predestined, of course. It’s a television series. Priorities shift. However, I think the writers got ahead of themselves in a few cases and failed to carry out the storylines that they started. They became unfocused and introduced things that were superfluous and did not serve the story.

The laziness I refer to comes into play in wrapping up these storylines they introduced but failed to explore in their entirety. You think that these were well executed, and that’s totally okay. If it’s serviceable to you, more power to you. To me, it feels lazy.

I feel like this was a decently conducive discussion. Not sure if I covered exactly what you wanted me to. Hopefully this gives a better understanding to what my general train of thought was here.

Do not create a literal upper caste lower caste class divide in your show if you are incapable of presenting the nuances of such a divide it makes you look lazy

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Mitsuhide Akechi Sequel

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

This is a full translation of Chapter 3, Part 2. Spoilers ahead.

Keiji: "Hey, Mai, Ranmaru!"

We bumped into Keiji, who was, for some reason, carrying a sack of rice on his shoulder.

Mai: "Keiji, perfect timing! Actually—"

Keiji: "You guys are the ones who showed up at the right time! Come with me for a bit."

Ranmaru: "Lord Keiji, we don't have time for this—hey, stop pulling me!"

Keiji: "Just come along. I'll listen to whatever you have to say while I'm making rice balls."

Masamune: "That's a hundred done. Take them."

(Rice balls?)

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

Masamune's retainers: "Yes, sir!"

Ranmaru: "What's with this huge pile of rice balls!?"

Masamune: "It's for relief efforts. Even though the fire was put out, many people in the castle town lost their homes."

Masamune: "People can't do anything on an empty stomach."

Ranmaru: "I guess that's true."

Keiji: "Masamune, should I at least rinse the extra rice for now?"

Masamune: "Yeah, I’ll leave it to you."

Mai: "Keiji, you're also good at cooking?"

Keiji: "I'm just mimicking Masamune, but I don't mind doing this kind of stuff."

Keiji: "It's fun, like a festival."

His smile, like fireworks lighting up the night, lifted my spirits.

(It's amazing how he finds happiness in any situation.)

(I should follow his example. Dwelling on things will only wear me out.)

Masamune: "If you're free, you two should lend a hand."

Mai: "Sure."

Mai: "But while we're cooking, there's something I'd like to talk about."

Masamune: "What is it?"

Masamune: "Signs of rebellion in neighboring territories? Well, that's not surprising."

Even as I explained, neither Masamune nor Keiji showed any sign of alarm and continued to make rice balls.

Keiji: "That intel just came my way a little while ago."

Keiji: "I've already informed Lord Nobunaga."

Mai: "I see, that's good to hear."

Keiji: "Apparently, the rebels have no connection to Kicho or Motonari."

Masamune: "They're probably trying to take advantage of the chaos of the attack on Azuchi Castle to make a name for themselves."

Keiji: "Yeah."

Keiji: "It's not just the daimyo. Bandits and Ronin have gathered and started calling themselves rebel armies."

(The situation is more serious than I heard in town.)

Ranmaru: "If you already knew that much, we didn't have to rush back."

Keiji: "No, I'm glad you told me about the situation in town."

Keiji: "Now I know the information about the rebel armies is spreading faster than I thought."

Masamune: "This is getting fishy."

Keiji: "Yeah."

Ranmaru: "Fishy?"

Ranmaru: "You mean there's a possibility that Kicho and Motonari are involved in the rise of these rebel armies after all?"

(Huh?)

Keiji: "As expected from Lord Nobunaga's favorite page! You're not just a pretty face."

Ranmaru: "Of course! Being cute, cool, and smart is my charm, after all."

Keiji and Ranmaru spoke in their usual cheerful voices, but the eerie feeling that followed the attack began to take shape, weighing heavily on my heart.

Masamune: "Mai, open your mouth."

Mai: "Huh? Ah!"

He suddenly tossed a pickled turnip into my mouth.

When I instinctively bit into it, a sweet and sour taste spread across my tongue.

Masamune: "Is it good?"

Mai: "Yeah, it's delicious."

Masamune: "Looks like you haven't eaten much since this morning."

Mai: "Now that you mention it, I've been so busy, I forgot."

(I didn't even realize I looked pale.)

Masamune: "Let's take a break and eat."

Ranmaru: "I'm starving."

Keiji: "Alright, time to eat!"

We gathered in the corner of the kitchen and sat down around the table together.

(Eating is really important.)

As I was realizing this, Masamune suddenly peered at my face.

Masamune: "Where's Mitsuhide?"

Keiji: "Now that you mention it, we haven't seen him around these past few days."

Mai: "He's probably out gathering information. I don't know exactly where he is, though."

Ranmaru: "If you don't know where he is, then no one does."

(I haven't seen him since we returned to Azuchi.)

(Maybe he's investigating the rebel armies.)

Mai: "Thank you for the meal. I'll clean up the dishes."

As I carried the dishes and stood by the sink,

Masamune: "Huh? Mai, where are you?"

(Huh?)

Keiji: "You're right, she's not here."

Ranmaru: "Lady Mai?"

Mai: "Um, I'm right here."

Ranmaru: "Huh? You're right next to us, but why didn't we notice?"

Masamune: "Did you just vanish for a moment?"

Mai: "No, I'm not a ninja!"

Keiji: "Right. Even ninjas can't pull that off."

Keiji: "The only ones who could vanish and reappear like that are ghosts."

(Ghosts...)

His casual words stirred something uneasy in my heart.

Ranmaru: "Maybe the light outside was too bright?"

Keiji: "Yeah, probably. I should eat more and build up my strength."

Masamune: "............"

(Everyone's been so busy lately. They must be getting exhausted. It's probably nothing to worry about.)

I told myself that at the time. But...

The next time that happened was while I was standing in the hallway of Azuchi Castle, talking to Ieyasu and Mitsunari.

Mai: "We should have enough medicine to distribute tomorrow, but could I ask for more to be delivered the day after?"

Mitsunari: "Okay. Huh?"

Ieyasu: "Eh? Mai?"

Mai: "Yeah, what is it?"

Mitsunari: "Lady Mai?"

(Why are they both looking around like that?)

Mai: "Ieyasu, Mitsunari?"

Ieyasu & Mitsunari: "!"

Ieyasu: "Where were you just now?"

Mai: "What do you mean where? I've been standing here the whole time."

Mitsunari: "Really? I could have sworn I lost sight of you. I must've blacked out."

Ieyasu: "I can see Mitsunari zoning out, but I lost track of you for a second too, Mai."

Mai: "I see."

(This is like what happened in the kitchen earlier.)

Mai: "Maybe it's just eye strain? You two have been looking super busy lately."

Mitsunari: "That could be it. Sorry for worrying you."

Ieyasu: "..........."

The next time it happened was when I visited Hideyoshi's mansion.

Mai: "Excuse me, I brought the kimono you asked."

Hideyoshi: "............"

(Huh? Did he not hear me? Was my voice too quiet? It's rare to see him smoking his pipe like this.)

Mai: "Hideyoshi?"

Hideyoshi: "............"

(He seems really focused. I'll just leave the package with one of his retainers and head out so I don't disturb him.)

I was about to close the sliding door when...

(What if he really couldn't see me?)

A sense of unease crept over me, and I moved around to face him.

Mai: "Um, Hideyoshi!"

Hideyoshi: "............"

(It's like he really can't see me. He can't hear me either.)

My heart tightened.

Mai: "Hideyoshi!"

Hideyoshi: "Mai!? When did you—"

Hideyoshi, with wide eyes, quickly dropped the ash from his pipe.

Finally, our gazes met, and I felt all the tension leave my body.

(Thank goodness.)

Mai: "Sorry for interrupting while you were working. I called out to you several times."

Hideyoshi: "I'm the one who should apologize. I can't believe I didn't hear your voice."

Hideyoshi: "No, it's not that I didn't hear you."

Hideyoshi: "I really must be losing it."

Mai: "How did I look to you just now?"

Hideyoshi: "This might sound strange, but it felt like you suddenly appeared in front of me."

Hideyoshi: "Out of nowhere."

(Out of nowhere...?)

Hideyoshi: "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have made you feel uncomfortable."

Mai: "It's not your fault, Hideyoshi."

Hideyoshi: "Huh?"

Mai: "Actually, this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

Hideyoshi: "It's not the first time?"

(I should probably tell him.)

(It's better to tell him now rather than risk causing more worry if it happens again.)

I opened up to him about everything that had happened so far.

Besides what happened in the kitchen and the castle hallway, there were several times when my fellow seamstresses couldn't find me even though I was right in front of them.

Hideyoshi: "It doesn't seem like it can be easily dismissed as a mistake."

Hideyoshi: "What does Mitsuhide say about this?"

(That's...)

Mai: "He's been so busy lately that I haven't had a chance to talk to him about it yet."

Hideyoshi: "At a time like this, I can't believe that guy is still...!"

Mai: "It's fine. I understand it's a difficult time for both Mitsuhide and the Oda army."

(Actually, it's probably better that I haven't seen him lately.)

(If I had,I wouldn't be able to stop myself from consulting him.)

I didn't want him to hold back from going on his missions for my sake.

I wanted Mitsuhide to live as he pleased.

Hideyoshi: "I'll ask Kyubei to pass the message to Mitsuhide."

Mai: "But..."

Hideyoshi: "If he's the kind of man who would leave you anxious and alone, then I'll kick him out of Azuchi for good."

Hideyoshi softened his gaze after saying that with a stern expression.

Hideyoshi: "He won't listen to me no matter how much I nag him, but if it's for you, he'll come back."

Hideyoshi: "I'll report this to Lord Nobunaga as well, so don't try to handle this on your own."

Mai: "Thank you."

Nobunaga: "So, something strange has happened to Mai?"

Hideyoshi: "Yes."

I bowed deeply before Nobunaga.

Mai: "Thank you so much for taking the time to listen."

The rumors I had heard in town turned out to be true, with small rebel factions springing up around Azuchi.

For now, they had only issued statements, but we couldn't predict when a military clash might occur.

(I don't want to worry everyone at a time like this.)

No matter how much I held back, I knew they wouldn't leave me to face it alone.

The warlords of the Oda army are kind-hearted people like that.

(I'll just honestly accept their help.)

Nobunaga: "Hideyoshi, you too witnessed Mai disappearing?"

Hideyoshi: "Yes. Yesterday, at my mansion."

Hideyoshi: "!"

Nobunaga: "..........."

Mai: "Hideyoshi? Nobunaga?"

(Don't tell me it's happening again?)

A cold shiver ran through me, draining the warmth from my fingertips.

Mai: "I'm here! Can you see me? Can you hear my voice?"

I spoke, trembling, but neither Nobunaga nor Hideyoshi responded, both wearing tense expressions as they looked around, unable to meet my gaze.

(They can't see and hear me.)

Driven by fear, I stood up and rushed toward them.

Mai: "I'm here!"

I shouted, reaching out toward Nobunaga, but in the next instant—

(!?)

My fingers slipped past his broad shoulders, and I lost my balance, collapsing onto the tatami.

Mai: "Ugh..."

Nobunaga: "Mai?"

Hideyoshi: "Are you okay!? How did you end up behind Lord Nobunaga?"

As they helped me up, the tremors wouldn't stop.

Mai: "It's not that I walked behind him. It's more like I passed right through him."

Hideyoshi: "Passed right through?"

Nobunaga: "Mai."

Mai: "Yes?"

Nobunaga: "If something like this happens again, report it immediately."

I hesitated to respond, and Nobunaga, seemingly aware of my reluctance, continued.

Nobunaga: "Your safety is the safety of the Oda army. Do you understand?"

Mai: "Yes. Thank you."

Hideyoshi: "Mai, you've got us on your side."

Their gazes warmed me, and I barely managed to nod, desperately holding back tears.

As soon as I returned to my room, I immediately grabbed the Travel Guide.

(It was after returning to Azuchi that I started becoming invisible to those around me.)

(And the strange happenings with the travel guide started around the same time. Maybe there's a connection?)

(If that's the case...)

The face of my only modern friend flashed in my mind, sending a chill down my spine.

(What if something's happening to Sasuke too? I have to tell him quickly!)

A few days after sending a letter to Echigo, I found myself lost in thought.

Suddenly, a knock came from the attic. Startled, I looked up, and the hatch swung open.

Sasuke: "Mai, good evening."

Mai: "Sasuke!?"

Sasuke landed gracefully, lowering his mask.

Sasuke: "I came."

Mai: "You came!"

Sasuke: "I wanted to talk directly instead of replying. Sorry for the sudden visit."

Mai: "It's okay, thank you for coming!"

Mai: "So, has anything strange happened? You came from the future like me, so I was really worried!"

Sasuke: "I'm fine. Nothing unusual has happened to me."

Mai: "I'm glad to hear that."

Sasuke: "About the other strange thing you mentioned in the letter..."

Sasuke: "Can I see the Travel Guide?"

Mai: "Sure, here you go."

His expression hardened as he looked down at the blank pages.

Sasuke: "............"

Mai: "Did you figure something out?"

Sasuke: "No, not exactly."

His words came out strangely hesitant.

(Is he hesitating to talk?)

Just as I sensed that, the sliding door opened.

Mitsuhide: "Let me hear that story as well."

Sasuke: "!"

(Mitsuhide!)

[stillness-in-green]

do you have thoughts about the way MHA431 went?

Sure, I'll bite. Let's have a

Chapter Thoughts - Chapter 431: More

Some of this will be a rephrase/expansion on stuff I said in Part 3 of the fascism essay, particularly the section about how Heroes view the prospect of long-term peace, but it’s all worth saying here as well.

Hit the jump for some roughly ordered thoughts primarily about Ochaco’s counseling program, the romance stuff and how it’s facilitated, some stray character observations, and some Stillness-typical complaining about the handling of Villains.

O It was nice to see Ochaco’s program in more detail than the jaw-droppingly bad handwave it got in 430, but I still think it didn’t go anywhere near far enough.  To wit, what we see is a nice introduction to a program that could well be effective at finding some people with behavioral, familial, or quirk-based problems, but the depiction is badly lacking an illustration as to what will be done regarding people with problems that can’t be helped by a tiny bit of encouragement and support.  As it’s with Toga in mind that Ochaco undertook this whole project, it seems fair to ask: How would Toga have fared in it?

If it had been young Toga Himiko in the scene instead of Shy Mining Helmet Boy, Ochaco offering her a little anti-gravity boost would have gone exactly nowhere because no amount of manuevering would have changed Himiko’s basic inability to participate in the activity.  It would have clued Ochaco into Himiko having an issue, though, and perhaps that discovery could have led, with further interaction, to uncovering her feelings of repression and, critically, her problems at home.  Great!  That stuff absolutely needed to be uncovered!

But—then what?  When Ochaco’s program turns up Himiko, a girl with a problem so severe that no amount of welcoming class play is going to resolve it, what’s the next step?  Recommend counseling for her parents, too?  What if they’re resistant, resentful, or they outright refuse?  Do you then remove Himiko from the home?  Let’s switch the lens over to a different kid for a second: Shimura Kotarou.  As evinced by his massive unaddressed abandonment issues, the alternative child care system clearly did him no favors!  And he didn’t have a taboo quirk[1] to add on top of the perception of his being an “unwanted child”!

So if you haven’t improved the state of Japan’s alternative child care system—and there’s no specific evidence that anyone has[2]—have you done much but kicked the consequences down the road a few years or slightly changed the color of the problem at hand?  Would Himiko really fare so much better in a group home or orphanage?  Would the views of the people in charge be significantly different than those of Himiko’s previous counselor?  Or would they just be, as Tomura described his family doing to him, rejecting her kindly instead of cruelly?

1: And “taboo” is honestly putting it lightly.  Shinto beliefs about the spiritual pollution of spilled blood being what they are, Toga’s quirk would actually be profane to a devout adherent—if the reader is familiar with X-Men, think about the kind of nastiness that periodically gets thrown at Nightcrawler by particularly militant Christians.   There’s no indication that Toga’s parents are more devout than the average Japanese person, of course, but values embedded in the culture are going to be embedded in the culture all the same.

2: All we have in that direction is Uraraka enthusing that the program has a lot of support and does very thorough work, and noting that Hawks does negotiations with the Ministry of Education and other (non-specific) organizations, which we see him framing as “investing in young people.”  While this could be indicative of efforts being made somewhere, by someone, to improve the situation for children in alternative care, that read is undercut by Uraraka following up with the note that all this work has done a lot to improve “the quirk education environment.”  This falls far short of specific evidence for improvements to any given other aspect of child welfare.

While I’m sure we’re intended to read Ochaco’s program as one that will be meaningfully helpful to children like Toga—and I don’t even think that it categorically couldn’t be!—what we see directly on the page simply does not prove that case.  Encouraging a baseline kid with an emitter quirk and age-typical shyness does not prove that The Problem of Toga has been addressed.  So what was even the point of showing it to us?

What Himiko really needs—if you’ll pardon my MLA Stan coming out here for a bit—is a complete reevaluation of what quirks are and how people can use them.  She needs a world that’s willing to throw out its old ways of thinking, to update its “notion of normal” to something that will allow the Toga Himikos of the world to live without suppression.  For all the good I'm sure it will do, I don’t see Ochaco’s program doing that.

O It’s so hilariously telling that we got that whole shpiel about updating the Billboard Charts such that non-professional Heroes can be recognized for their efforts, only for the last chapter to give us jack shit on any non-Pro Heroes charting at all.  And like, I’m willing to be generous here: I always assumed that Hawks wasn’t talking about adding non-Pros to the charts verbatim, but rather creating a brand-new chart for the recognition of Civilian Heroes.  But we don’t get anything like that at all—and Deku being a teacher and public speaker gives us a perfect opportunity to indicate such a chart’s existence!  But then, maybe he can’t count because he does Hero work on the weekends, which leads me to my next point.

O Ochaco and Deku should both have just retired, and Shouto should be on sabbatical.  Seriously, if Horikoshi really had the courage of the convictions he was putting to paper, and if it were really true that the Villain emergence rate was down and Heroes were beginning to have more free time, then Ochaco and Deku should both have decided to prioritize the work they believe is more meaningful and helpful than Professional Heroics, and Shouto should feel free to take some time completely off for his self-exploration.  That none of this happens suggests that Horikoshi either didn’t believe or didn’t trust his audience to accept his idea that there are meaningful ways for these characters to be heroic without them also having to be Heroes.

O Ochaco musing about Toga still existing somewhere inside her, and especially all the junk about the dead bisexual teenager being used to encourage the exhaustingly hetero endgame, really just makes me want to read the actual ghost story where Toga is literally haunting Ochaco.  Toga still loves Ochaco-chan, of course, but her encouragement for Ochaco-chan and Deku to hook up is aimed solely at getting the two of them alone in a quiet, private room.  Once that happens, Ochaco’s eyes will go gold and slitted, the walls will start dripping blood, and Deku will find out quite quickly that not everyone is so willing to move on from him murdering Shigaraki Tomura of the League of Villains.

O I miss the Bakugou who was on-course for a big personal growth arc about learning to work in a team.  I feel like that Bakugou, alongside having had a way less tiresome endgame battle, might actually have been able to keep some sidekicks without being chiefly concerned about the level of their personal ambitions.  I don’t give a shit about his (or anyone else save one guy’s) chart position, but it’s exhausting that he had great development into being a proud but capable team player all the way up through the 1-A versus Deku fight, and then all of that gets flushed down the toilet to revert to him getting a badass solo fight against All For One and an epilogue that allows him no work partner options whatsoever outside of the main character.

O The comedy visuals of Deku’s dumb face being subsumed by Bakugou’s plush backseat make me want to die.  Someone please throw this main character away.

O I’m glad Mina reclaimed at least some aspect of her original Alien Queen aspirations with the “Ridley Hero” thing.  Good for her.

O On a worldbuilding note, my attention is caught by Shinsou being described as “not contending” for a chart position, though the kanji can also mean things like “out of contention” or “beyond the sphere of.”  I assume it’s just indicating that Shinsou is an underground Hero like his mentor Aizawa, but a) I feel like that runs a bit counter to his goal of proving that he can be a Hero even with a quirk like Brainwash, and b) isn’t it a bit sketchy if underground Heroes can just choose to exempt themselves from the most visible, public-facing form of Pro Hero evaluation?  Maybe the HPSC charts them for its own records and then removes them from public visibility, of course, or maybe the charts only go down to 200 or so and stop after that, with Shinsou, not seeking for attention, comfortable to be below that cut-off.  Not sure, but there are some interesting possibilities there, as well as some concerning ones.

O HOLY GOD, Monoma’s new look.  I like it very much.  He is also the only person I want to see on the charts at all.  Two hundred ranked entries of Monoma's daily work antics. I support him wholly and with only the most loving of faceitiousness.

O Extremely funny to me that all the people I saw on Twitter talking about this chapter confirming KamiJirou had to first ignore Jirou explicitly denying that there’s anything going on and second be very disingenuous indeed with the panel crop they used to wave around crowing about their ship. I don’t have a strong distaste for KamiJirou relative to my distaste for Kaminari himself, but my tolerance for him pretty much starts and ends with KamiJirouMomo as a poly arrangement, so I was pleased to see that left open here.

O If I dislike Toga’s image being used to encourage Ochaco to hook up with Deku (and I dislike it very much, particularly given the loathsome last words Deku spoke to Toga when she was alive, but at least I can see the sense it makes from a thematic and characterization perspective), I have only profanity for how much I hate Shigaraki’s image being used to encourage Deku in confessing to Ochaco.  Just take my entire folder full of negative reaction memes.  Jesus Christ.

I have said before, and will have more to say in the future, about Deku’s assorted failures as a protagonist and hero, but him deciding that the kind of adult he wants to be is a Hero high school teacher really is the ultimate indicator of just how little he cared about who Shigaraki was and what he wanted.  Ochaco is making a good faith effort to help the Toga Himikos of the future.  Deku, meanwhile, is shallowly paddling around in his Hero Worship wading pool, ignoring both the Shimura Tenkos and the Shigaraki Tomuras of the world—the people Hero Society outcasts, villainizes, and sweeps under the rug.

Shigaraki’s last behest—that Deku ensure the things Shigaraki fought to destroy remain destroyed—was wasted on Deku, who, once he got Spinner and Overhaul off his conscience, clearly could not give less of a shit about helping the people Shigaraki fought for.  To see that last behest come back in the context of Deku using it to bolster his goddamn love life is a fucking travesty, and I hope Ochaco dumps him inside of a year if Toga Himiko’s vengeful ghost doesn’t get him first.

O DON’T WORRY, GUYS; I’M SURE THE HEROES TOTALLY TRY TO BE MORE COMPASSIONATE AND UNDERSTANDING TOWARDS RANDOM, DOWN-ON-THEIR-LUCK VILLAINS NOW.  THINGS ARE SURE TO BE TOTALLY DIFFER—

Oh.  Oh, it’s not different at all, is it?

(Have I mentioned enough times yet how much I really, really dislike the street crime scenes where Our Heroes stand around and chitchat in the middle of a crime scene, having successfully dealt with the big bad villain whose actions they did not even attempt to de-escalate and whom they have immediately forgotten all about?)

O Wow, thanks for letting us know you don’t think impulse criminals aren’t wicked to the core, Iida.  That makes me feel real reassured about how you guys are handling Villains who premeditate! (It does not.)

O I’ve already said I disliked how Toga’s “image” is used here, but let me not shortchange the fact that it also sucks because it puts the last nail in the coffin of Uraraka having any agency over sharing her own feelings.  She has a lengthy arc about how she is—like Toga in the past—repressing her feelings for the one she loves; she gets through to Toga by frankly admitting to those feelings, as well as all the other things she was sitting on about Toga herself.  And then in the aftermath, she goes right back to repressing her feelings, now ones of paralyzing grief over Toga’s death. Deku witnesses those feelings not because she chooses to share them with him, but because he tracks her down mid-cry.  And now we find out for sure what Chapter 430 left unclear: that in eight years, Ochaco hasn’t said a word about her once-again repressed feelings for him.  Instead, just as she did when she was a teenager, she’s doubled down on putting those feelings away in the name of what she “should” be doing.

And here?  Does she finally take control of her own life, her own feelings, her own expression?  No.  At least, not until after Deku has been the one to confess first and Vision!Toga psychically shoves her forward to close the gap.  The only thing left for Ochaco to do, the only assertiveness asked of her, is to accept or rebuff Deku’s overture.  Good god, you’d think she was Eri, a helpless waif wrestling with indoctrination about how much she’s not allowed to want anything for her own sake, whose turning point in the narrative is finding the strength to reach back for the hand being extended towards her.

Coming from a long-term abuse victim, that’s a perfectly worthy character arc, even a deeply moving show of strength, but it’s wildly pathetic for BNHA’s most prominent female hero, the gal whose character arc was founded entirely on balancing her desire to help others with pursuing her own happiness.  Good lord, did Shonen Jump tell Horikoshi that boys don’t like it when girls are too forward or what?

[thewistlingbadger]

In a way, I've been really stumped when it comes to Silco and season two. Because I've always liked Silco, but my affinity for him skyrocketed with season two. I went from Casual Silco Enjoyer to Silco's Defense Attorney in the span of a month, and I couldn't place why. Until now.

Season one paints Silco as a violent extremist who's objectively a bad person. Season one accomplished this by having an array of grounded characters and by having none of the characters give their full support to Silco. Majority of the cast is against Silco in a way or has no perception of him. Sevika and Jinx, Silco's only allies, only extend their loyalty so far. Jinx doesn't give a shit about his cause at all and only participates because she likes to feel useful. Sevika's loyalty to Silco is only temporary, since her true loyalty lies with Zaun and not Silco. We don't see anyone in season 1 support Silco's actions or beliefs, and based off what we actually see in season one, the audience comes to the conclusion that Silco is being too offensive for what the situation requires. We've seen harm topside is causing, but is it really bad enough to go to the lengths Silco goes to? Most people think no, and so the drugs, the violence, the overall unsympathetic attitude of Silco is off-putting. Then of course, there's Vander, who the audience got attached to and loved. Vander and Silco are total opposites so if someone really likes Vander, it's likely they'll resent Silco. So based off season 1 alone, it's clearly easy to dislike Silco.

But season two does something totally unexpected. In my opinion, season two proves that Silco was actually right. He was right to do things the way he did and to have the beliefs he had. Season two makes the oppression of Zaun extremely transparent. We truly see just how hateful Piltover is and their full potential to exercise that hate at the cost of everyone in the Undercity. And we see that Piltover behaves in such a cruel way AFTER silco is gone. AFTER zaun has no leaders. AFTER zaun has no shimmer. AFTER zaun displays no violence. Caitlyn got rid of shimmer and neutralized the chem barons. None of the potential threats of zaun that Piltover was worried about last season exist anymore, and yet Piltover was still using excessive force with the undercity. If Piltover is going to behave this way when Zaun is helpless and at their mercy, then why SHOULDN'T zaun be resorting to radicalism? Why SHOULDN'T they be resorting to the most extreme of efforts? This proves that Silco was correct to use fear as a tool against piltover. Silco was right to resort to terrible deeds at the expense of his own people, because had he not, those same people would have STILL SUFFERED from Piltover's abuse! And you could argue that they did suffer more without Silco than with him.

[quirekey]

Can you do headcanons for TFOne Bee x Cybertronian Femme!Reader, that is a musician whose personality is the opposite of Bee's?

AWW THIS IS ADORABLE!! Elegant-musician reader :D I love this idea sm

[ BUMBLEBEE ] x [ FEMME!READER ]

[ bumblebee x cybertronian!femme!musician!reader ]

[ I’m gonna be so real, I put a hella lot of effort in this ]

READER INTRO

You were a famous and talented multi-instrument player who was known for being mysterious and elegant. Your music was soothing and soft which also reflected your personality. Most of the time, you played a Cybertronian instrument that represented a harp. You never smiled too much nor did you express strong emotions. Iacon did not flourish in the arts and musical area and you're one of the only Cybertronians in Iacon that actually make this topic thrive. You invent new instruments and play magical songs on the streets to show others that you are doing this for a meaningful reason.

( Yes I’m doing this now, it may make for some good reader OCs )

HEADCANONS

[ Bumblebee isn’t stuck at SUB-LEVEL 50, but is merely very bad at his current position as a miner. ]

- The way Bumblebee found out about your existence when he saw many posters alongside a wall full of famous Iacon celebrities. While most of them were either racers, scientists or a high-guard, you stood out. You looked so graceful in your poster, calming colours surrounding your frame and some light text. This was how his love for you started.

- You often play your infamous harp on pretty popular streets. Cybertronians love to come by and greet you, encouraging you to continue your personal pathway to spread music. Bumblebee would be jumping and cheering for you while everybody is politely listening. You may be a bit annoyed but he’s a little adorable too.

- When Bumblebee decided to actually talk to you, he was surprisingly very outgoing. The conversation went off-track, it went from your popularity to how important energon is. You liked his little personality so you guys gained contacts.

- Ever since you guys got into contact, you would bring him around to less busy streets in case it doesn’t work out. If it is an empty day, you would bring a simpler version of your harp and give it to Bumblebee, showing him how to strum and create melodies. Bee has definitely broken many strings but it's merely because he isn’t paitent enough.

- Fans recognised you hanging out with this ‘Yellow, bulky guy’ and due to the population, rumours spread fast. Many cybertronians thought you guys were just two best friends but many others thought it was more than that. The crowd is persuasive and you slowly did gain feelings for the yellow goofball. You hated it but you have to accept the truth.

- The rumours only made you two closer. The way you two would laugh about how ‘strange and stupid’ these theories were and that it will probably never happen. This did hurt you and your chances to be with him.

- Bee is a pretty impulsive and carefree bot, so when he suddenly confessed to you mid-conversation, you were both surprised and not. Surprised that he would actually like somebot like you but not surprised that he just blurted something massive out of nowhere. You said you liked him back and that’s when something special started, it was opposites attracting.

- You two decided to date in secret since there were some strange cybertronians making theories about you and Bee. This was obviously wrong and made you uncomfortable, but Bee was able to help you out, only seeing the fun side of it. He said a lot of points like ‘More people will support us!’ Or ‘We may get free gifts.’. This helped you out when Bumblebee showed PDA.

- When you and Bee started dating, oh how ecstatic he was. He kept praising everything about you, turning into a silly gentleman and just being a cute sparkmate. When Bee told Orion Pax and D16, the two were starstruck. Literally an absolutely famous musician is dating a bot who could barely mine? That seemed unimaginable to D16, Orion was pretty proud of the little bot.

- You two would go out together every time instead of empty days ever since you guys started dating. Bumblebee would hold back from showing romantic affection and tries his best to make it seem platonic if he does. Sometimes, there are many Cybertronians asking for your signature or are just taking up your attention and this gets to Bumblebee’s nerves fast. He wants your attention, he should get them. If this is the case, he would just pull you away and hug you. Lucky for him, you wouldn’t stop him nor did you stop giving your fans some attention.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

Note: yeah…

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your work is cursory. There’s really no need for you to be there Monday to Friday but you won’t complain for the pay check. Or the repetition. You prefer habit over spontaneity. When you took on the job, your biggest concern was the unpredictability. 

That day, the house is empty as you work. You’re relieved. It’s easier to just do you sweep through, mop a bit where needed, dust surfaces that are still clean from the day before. It’s not as tedious as when you need to keep conversation with your hovering client. 

As you empty the crumb tray of the toaster, your peace is punctured. The front door opens and closes and you hear Steve’s voice. He’s not talking to you, if he even expects you to be there. 

“Sam, yeah, I don’t know,” he sounds agitated. “I called him. Didn’t pick up for me either. Shoot.” 

There’s a silence as he listens to the other end of the conversation. You slide the tray back in the appliance as you tip toe around. You collect the errant crumbs from the counter top.  

“My shoulder...” Steve groans. “I know, I know, you told me--” 

You’re half-startled as Steve appears in the kitchen door, his shirt pulled up to his chest, crooked as he has one shoulder free of it. He freezes as you face him cluelessly. He clears his throat. 

“Uh, Sam, call ya back.” He hangs up and nears the island, setting the phone down. He pushes his arm back in his shirt and pulls it down, covering his muscled stomach as his eyes drift away bashfully. “I didn’t hear you.” 

“That’s fine,” you assure him. “Finishing up.” You go to the bin and dust off your hands over it. You let the lid shut. “Bag’s only half full, I’ll take it tomorrow.” 

“No problem,” he says. 

You’re quiet as you gather up your cleaner and cloth. You bring it all to the door as he heads in the same direction. You both stop right at the threshold, unsure of the other. 

“Hey, uh, so... everything okay? Anything I can do to make your job easier?” he asks. 

The reply that flickers wouldn’t be very nice. You’re sure it would be much simpler without him always asking you that. Still, you have to appreciate his concern. Another girl in the agency told you about how her client barely says a word. Of how nervous it makes her.  

Steve makes you uneasy in a different way. Is there a such thing as too nice? You’ve been told you’re too pessimistic so surely the pendulum can swing in the other direction. 

“Everything’s fine,” you assure him. 

“I try not to leave too much mess,” he says with a smile. 

“Right, that’s... good. Thanks.” 

Slowly, you inch forward. You squeeze past him into the next room. Despite your efforts to shrink, you still manage to brush against him. You swear his fingers tickle just along your thigh. You don’t linger to think about it. Or rather, overthink it. 

You put your things in your kit and give a once over. His shadow looms in the kitchen door as he watches you. Again, you get the sense that he might have control issues. Some people just can’t let go of the steering wheel. 

“Hey, uh, I got an odd request,” he steps forward before you can return to the entry way. 

You pause and step back to face him, “alright?” 

“I was training this morning,” he reaches and rubs his shoulder, “you know, I think I stretched something and I can’t quite reach--” 

You blink as your brows draw together. He’s not asking you to do that, is he? 

“I know it’s kinda weird. You can say no,” he keeps his hand clamped around his muscle. “It’s just tugging the back of my neck like a fish hook.” 

“No,” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “No, I don’t think I can do that.” 

“Ah, yeah, obviously,” he chuckles. “You’re just the maid. It’s probably against the rules, huh?” 

You stare at him, fighting not to let your expression curdle. That’s very strange. This is strange. If anyone knew that Captain America was this socially awkward, they might not be star struck by the golden mane and shining shield. 

“Yep,” you say. “Uh, anyway, I think I got everything.” 

“You know,” he crosses the room as you flit out into the entryway. “I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t really hurt. I just, you know, I’m here alone. Don’t really have anyone else to ask.” 

“Sorry about that,” you shrug as you zip up your jacket. “You could try a masseuse.” 

He crosses his arms and stands over you as you pull on your shoes. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” 

You stand up and go to grab your kit. He bends too, coming so close, you feel his breath. You look up and your noses nearly touch. You recoil and rip your hand away, knocking the bucket so the long duster and the roll of paper towels spill out. 

“Oh, uh, you surprised me,” you bend to gather up the roll and duster. 

“No problem, just trying to help,” he towers over you as you slowly straighten. You gulp and reach for the handle of your kit. 

“That’s nice of you but I think I got it,” you put your hand around the plastic, right next to his, but he doesn’t let go. You hug the armful of supplies as you tug lightly. “Really, I got it.” 

He yanks back so you’re forced closer to him. Your skins speckles and stings with sweat. You bat your eyes up at him. “So, you spend all day cleaning, you must get sore. What do you do?” 

“Erm,” you narrow your eyes as you feel his grip tighten on the kit. “A hot bath, I guess?” 

“Hot bath...” he echoes. “Sounds nice.” 

“Maybe some epsom salts,” you suggest and try to wiggle the bucket. “Steve, uh, I gotta go.” 

He nods, “you gonna have a hot bath?” 

Your chest feels clogged as you try not to falter. You’re not overreacting. He’s being... a lot. 

“I got another job,” you utter. “Please...” 

Your voice cracks without meaning to. You stare up at him and his brows rise slightly. He lets go of the bucket and smiles. 

“Sure, sure, you work so hard,” he turns his palms out then firmly braces his hips, striking that classic Cap pose. “I hope you get that hot bath.” 

You put the towels and duster back in the bucket and hold it with both hands. You grit your teeth and back up. “See ya tomorrow.” 

“See ya then,” he winks. 

You hurry for the door and he follows. You almost feel like he’s chasing you. You feel foolish for that thought as he pulls the door open and lets you out. You don’t look back as you flee. Can he see how uncomfortable you are? Does he even care? 

You’re starting to think this might not be a control thing. Not in the way you thought. 

[the-one-who-lambs]

okay, so, I don't take my art as seriously as I do my writing. y'all know this. Writing is the Thing I Work Hard At and Am Good At because I put Consistent Effort into it. I am content to have digital art as a "decently good at" hobby and even though I try not to stress over backburner creative hobbies like drawing I am also very open to learning and improving my practice so I absorb whatever quick art tips I run across.

however. mutual @teruuu offhandedly mentions the "rotisserie chicken method" on my dash with a banger art piece. The side by side with and without this tactic had me a little stunned but he just overlays a fucking rotisserie chicken on the piece and it suddenly looks more cohesive.

there's no fucking way. fearfully, i open krita and try it with a couple of things i drew a few months ago.

Here's a pretty Hyacinth I made for @megsiepoo.

Now I just gotta.. put her through the rotisserie? grabbed a pic of a rotisserie chicken, set the layer to overlay, lowered the opacity to like 10%

no no nO NO NO NO. why does my 1-year-and-a-couple-months-maybe foray into digital art look so much more like an actual painting now. by the power invested in me by the rotisserie fucking chicken she has so much more personality and character.

absolutely FUCKING not I need to make sure this isn't a fluke so I'll try this again. risen/fallen narilamb wedding outfit leyendecker piece test subject go.

before

after

so I, admittedly, should probably start studying color theory. the importance of choosing colors that make sense has begun to dawn on me over the past couple months and when i originally made this one i just kinda colorpicked from my character reference sheets. i'm sure there's a reason for this beyond Chicken Sorcery, likely because it makes the color scheme more warm overall (i hear this is an actual thing called "unifying your palette"). it looks so much better imo and THE CLOTHING DETAILS ACTUALLY POP WAY MORE.

anyway if you're trying to render art and don't know how to finish it maybe slap some fucking chicken on it i GUESS

[kamimarroco]

this was supposed to be shorter, but i ended up exaggerating. also posting now because i really don't know if i would have the courage to do it during the day while aware of the mistakes that the story has :)

high chance that at some point I will delete it, or not. anyway

Words: almost 900

you find yourself sprawled across the grand, uncomfortably soft bed in the room, your gaze fixed on the luxurious ceiling, distracted by the figures drawn above. the blanket is too low to even cover your feet, the cold of the night hitting your skin protected only by the fabric of your pajamas.

you look to the side and see Fox curled up on part of the bed, his back turned to you and the upper half of his body completely exposed, unlike the lower half. you feel tempted, a desire you haven't felt for a while.

it wouldn't hurt to try, right?

you put boredom aside and decide to make the effort to get closer to him, being careful so that he doesn't notice the changes in weight on the bed. you get close enough to have him within arm's reach, reaching out to gently run your fingers over Fox's fur. your skin instantly picks up the capillaries, not so bold as to actually touch, but enough to feel something. your eye widens, your cheeks slightly burning, and then you move.

you run your fingers down his back, feeling his fur, tracing the scars that adorn his age-affected skin, noticing the details that you never took the time to pay due attention to. it's interesting, and most importantly, it's something to keep your mind busy. 

you lower your fingertips, and lower and lower, getting close to the part of the body where his tail starts, about to feel-

“what are you doing?", comes a harsh, deep and authoritative voice, and perhaps above all, angry.

your wrist is violently grabbed by one of Fox's hands, stopping your activity of exploring his body, your gaze seconds later moving to meet his. furrowed brows deepen the wrinkles that decorate his face, amber eyes glaring furiously at you. 

he didn't expect you to do that.

“nothing. i'm just touching you”, you answer honestly with a calm and collected attitude, not realizing the need to lie about something so small that was more than obvious. 

“touching me? without my permission?”, the way he takes great offense at your little act is ironic when you remember that he scourges your body until you open up, not caring about your consent or the pain inflicted on you.

it's strange, of course. you never had a good relationship with Fox, let alone initiate something as intimate as simply touching him while he sleeps. it's weird when you two point your nails and teeth at each other at least most of the time.

“i was just trying to do something good”

“oh, really? you, who never accepted my affections or showed gratitude for keeping you alive?”

you feel as if a thousand arrows have been aimed at your heart and shot all at once, the discomfort is too real for you to let go, but you really don't want to let it show.

“okay. yeah, fine. have it your way", you quickly remove your wrist from his grip, his gaze never leaving you even as you begin to distance yourself, returning to your spot on the bed, away from him and still without the blanket. you don't hear him say anything or feel him move from his spot, but you know he continues to watch you with distrust.

you turn your back and close your eye, trying to fall asleep as you curl up into yourself, the cold that afflicts you no longer just physical, but emotional.

you don't know how many minutes pass, but when your eyelid threaten to cover your vision, you feel something envelop your body. warm, soft, and furry.

not only does the warm, soft fabric of the blanket catch you, but someone else's body does too. you feel Fox's claws caressing your arm lightly, his chest pressed against your back. you feel his breathing behind you, controlled, not really relaxed. 

“i don't know why you did that", he whispers, the tone lower than the one he usually uses. “you've never done it before, why now?”

do you really need a reason for what you did?

“i don't know. i wanted something different. i wanted something that wasn't just fighting or hate sex”, you open the only eye you have to look at the wall, not finding the strength to turn your head and see him. “maybe i was actually trying to do something good”

you can't fool yourself into thinking that this doesn't sound weird. Fox, then, has every reason to doubt you even more. and yet, your voice sounds genuine, not with the intention of deceiving.

perhaps a part of you really wants to make your relationship more pleasant, despite the intrigues that often come to light countless times. or maybe you're just tired of fighting for something over and over and over again. a genuinely true change would not be terrible, quite the contrary.

"i kind of liked how you touched my body," Fox confesses quietly, warming up to you in both a literal and figurative sense. his claws no longer seem to awaken a fight-or-flight instinct within you. "you really seemed fascinated by it…"

in one of the rare moments, you can tolerate and, incredibly, appreciate each other's presence, so different from the dynamics you usually have. it's refreshing in a way you can't put into words

even if you know that this will not last

[solarwynd]

Your answer to the 4-6 ep comment is a little ridiculous. Way to limit jimins career to the kpop realm.

Serious soloists outside of kpop release full length albums and a full body of work (albeit every 1-2 years) and this is why kpop will never be taken seriously.

Must be okay as long as Jimin is better than jungkook and rose and the rest of kpop. Right? At the end of the day, it isn’t about him as an artist but rather you weaponizing his involvement in his music against others but not wanting more for him in general. Until him and the other vocal line members release full length albums, no one will take them seriously. But again it looks like they never had the desire to begin with, perhaps they never really cared about their “solo careers,” if namjoon can release 2 ~10 song albums in 1.5 years what’s stopping Jimin

You this pissed in my inbox because I'm rational about not discounting Jimin's hard work as an artist just because he hasn't put out a full album yet is a tad unhinged.

I've expressed my desire multiple times for Jimin to put out a full album because I'd like to see what he'd be able to pull of with one. But at the same time, I am not pressed over it cause music is music to me. Just like a couple more songs added to an EP is just a couple more songs. It's just not that deep to me in general. So you can stop with that all encompassing "nobody will take him seriously" cause not everybody has the same weirdass mindset as you do.

Like you're either the typical rapline stan who constantly looks down on vocal line or a Jimin one on the fringe being real condescending over something this inconsequential, either way I really don't care what Joon got going on. Both Indigo and RPWP are mid to me with the latter being hard carried by art direction and visuals so I'm the wrong person to bring him up as an example to.

And weaponizing his involvement in his music when it's just a fact that he was? Why can't I point that out? Is it because it's actually nonsensical to disregard all the personal production, composition, lyrical, research, choreo and design effort that went into these projects just because those pieces of work were too short for you? It really just seems like you want to overlook that fact just so you can stay mad that he hasn't done a full. Which just reiterates the point in that ask you're referencing. Your discontent is purely listener preference and not the objective fact that Jimin is a lesser artist just because he's only done EPs thus far.

[inchidentally]

@ the anons I’ve accrued over this year who brought up Oscar not being embraced by the media team I’m still not going to post the asks bc there’s a lot of doom etc in there but like…

(and even tho it’s easy to find out who it is I’m not including who posted it bc do NOT want hate or anything in their comments and fandom issues =/= relevance to real life teams and their jobs)

“carland0 won the McLaren constructors… Oscar was there ig anyway remember when I staged a puppet show to commemorate carland0” LIKE SHSBSBVSBSBD

and I get that to a media person the subjects are mostly valuable for how good they are on camera bc even Andrea only gets a passing mention in this post compared to a bromance and he’s the actual architect that Lando himself says is behind this win - but he’s also famously deer in the headlights when a camera is on him.

it does possibly explain why the quality and quantity of McLaren content took a sudden nosedive not long after Oscar joined. (side note that Joe also moved on from McLaren early this year who was on the media team and spent a lot of social time with Oscar and posted him more) it’s a lil sad bc if you watch any of Oscar’s Prema content where he feels comfortable and friendly with the people behind the cameras he’s hilarious and willing to “dance” and yap and be silly. even in Alpine he was actually known by broadcast teams for being funny and a sardonic yapper and meme guy. but I think the McLaren ppl mistook Oscar coming into the team in the worst possible way PR wise and clamming up as a result as that being his real personality. Nicole saying how she wanted more people to see his real personality and ironically Carlos himself warming so much to Oscar despite the on track rivalry and not rly hanging out like… I hope the media team maybe start this next season fresh and realize that people who aren’t naturals on camera are still worth putting in effort to help them relax and be themselves. and if one of the people who’s been there for so many years put in that effort then it would have a big ripple effect !!

again I am not gonna post those asks bc a)do NOT support any harassment (however well intentioned) of employees just doing their jobs and b)in the grand scheme of things socmed does not matter and c)Oscar thankfully is blissfully unaware and/or does NOT care. he brings up Carlos and Daniel and carland0 totally on his own and he is utterly free of ego about his perception or presence in McLaren media.

and while it definitely means less Oscar and therefore landoscar content per capita or whatever the phrase is, the whole landoscar dynamic is that it’s so completely not slick fun millennial YouTuber ready PR content and they’re funny and cute and have their own unique chemistry even in the under 2 minutes allowed them for each video. and ofc Oscar has his own social media to put his dry humor and chronically online references <3

but as I saw in comments on a different post, Oscar might take longer to win over the media people but the people who matter most like Andrea and the ppl in the garage and factory and crucially !! the women working directly with him all utterly utterly adore him. he’s quietly there just being a hard worker and proving himself <3

and ultimately ofc the people who don’t like that Lando said he’s decided to not joke or perform as much for media (and saying he picked up from Oscar to just be himself and relax more) can always go back to the old content! and since Carlos creates the same fun bromance atmosphere with all his teammates I mean we all know Team Torque is about to become one of the best parts of race week media. Williams media team is going to eat him UPPPP

anyway yea none of it is deep it just got me thinking about how Oscar post alpinegate withdrew so much and so many ppl haven’t looked up who he was before to realize what a fun silly chatty kitten he is and that ofc he must be bc Lando holds him in his hand lovingly for a reason - and I do think when the ppl who got used to the Carlos and Daniel school of media warm up to Oscar and learn him more we’ll get that high res DSLR filmed content again instead of portrait iPhone instagram <3

(side note the whole thing if Unboxed dropping bc of DTS got debunked. DTS hasn’t stopped any other teams content and if it were true then Lando wouldn’t be allowed to make Landologs. this was definitely a media team decision made midway thru 2023)

[dozysloth]

thoughts on the salesman / contains spoilers:

the salesmean/recruiter ended up being a lot more intriguing than i excepted from his first appearances last season. that’s not to say i didn’t expect him to be a terrible person but initially i brushed him off as a sketchy businessman recruiting poor people into a death trap. i guess i didn’t think he’d be so unstable. it made him into a far more dynamic character.

bread & lottery seems to stump people because he’s not recruiting anyone. maybe he’s running a messed up social experiment on the homeless population as a side hobby like something you’d find on youtube.

will you choose the bread or choose a small chance at winning a lottery that has the potential to turn your life around? you’re used to hunger so a piece of bread doesn’t make a difference. and if you lose? you gain nothing. you’re hungry again.

he is trying to prove a point and in some twisted way he is trying to justify everything he has done and is doing. toying with people, murder, and recruiting them into a death game. he avoids looking in the mirror, denies that he is in the same position as those he deems “trash” or lesser than him. the reality is that the salesman is also hindered by classism. no matter what he does, his efforts will never be enough or recognized.

we ask why? what does he gain from this if it has nothing to do with the games? what is the purpose of stomping on and destroying the unpicked bread? why would he be upset if he’s proved his point correct? that they’re foolish and all fall into the same trap again and again and again. that he’s different than them. instead he just absolutely looses it. (buying the bread and lottery tickets in the first place just to test this is interesting, too. almost as if there’s a sliver of someone in there that doesn’t believe these people deserve to die. if he truly believed it he wouldn’t have to test it).

the final scene between he and gihun is very striking. the lighting and how it emphasizes the actors asymmetrical eyes is delicious. the innocent eye of a smiling businessman offering you a chance at a fortune highlighted in white and the cutthroat and sinister recruiter that has been hidden throughout the episode with a red glow. he looks arrogant, terrified and estatic all at the same time depending on which side you look at or both. it feels intentional, too.

what gihun says rings true. he is just their dog, an underling, and no matter what he does he will never be enough in the eyes of his superiors. he stops denying it when he honours the game. he plays fair and pulls the trigger under his chin.

some other things i want to note:

- the callouses on the salesman’s hands could be brushed off by the fact that the actor actually has them. but the shot is so deliberate that it feels pointed. here’s a handsome businessman wearing polished shoes and a nice suit. why would he have callouses if he truly is part of the elite? what kind of physical labour could he possibly be doing?

- the way he stands over the first homeless man and doesn’t block the sun out of his eyes. so he has to look up and squint to actually see the salesman standing over him with a smile.

- how quickly he moves to put the gun at the roof of his mouth in contrast with gihuns hesitant and cautious movements. is he just confident that he’s in control? trying to get a rise out of gihun? is he eager to die or does he just get off on the thrill of chances? it would explain his obsession with lottery and russian roulette. (i was literally speechless this entire scene.)

- it is revealed that he was one of the pink soldiers responsible in dealing with dead bodies. he also murdered his own father. he states that his actions were fuelled by the desire for his efforts to be acklowdged and recognized, and to (presumably) move up the ladder. i find it very interesting that in the final scene between the salesman and gihun he is sitting in a pink chair. and he dies in that pink chair.

i cant say much for the rest of the show as i do not plan on watching it but gong yoo really knocked it out of the park with his performance in a way i haven’t seen before in his other projects. (he was already an amazing actor).