#love of money is root of all kinds of evil

[rosetta-j-stone]

Me, watching the latest HBomberGuy video: hahahahahahoooooooolyshiiiiiiiii (imagine this on an infinite loop)

[herunswithscissors]

"with God all things are possible!"

What are the "all things" Jesus was referring to?

[earthtooz]

earth i need to catch up on ur ratio fics (i read some of flower one and i ate that shit up omg) because now the thought of seething annoying veritas being all angry whenever you even look at someone else infests my mind like an annoying worm. i hope you know this is what those fics do to me

x : EQUILIBRIUM : *+ﾟ

in which: ratio navigates through the perplexities of pining after you.

warnings: fluff, 1.6k words, intelligentsia guild!gn!reader is kind of a social butterfly and talkative, ratio is so pathetic i love him T^T, alcohol, aventurine feature! my writing isn't the best for this one i apologise :,D

a/n: thank u for the ask mhie!! i wanted to say that you enabled me perfectly because ever since his release, i've only ever thought about this one scenario where he's staring at reader from afar and absolutely seething because he's not the one talking to them xD sorry for taking so long omfg and im sorry for turning this into a fic, i just saw my opportunity and lunged at it like an animal rawr

Jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio.

He knows of them, understands the inner workings and philosophical aptitude of both, knowing that they lead man down irrational paths. Yet, for all his years, he has not felt the bitterness of jealousy and envy squeeze him, cannot fathom why one cannot control their feelings and maintain modesty. 

Perhaps, the root of it was whatever Ratio wanted, he received. The only thing he has ever craved is knowledge, and it is available for him with the flick of a page, absorbing even the most complex of theories with ease. Conceptual, mathematical, scientific- not a single school of thought has hidden itself from his vast mind, proven by the many PhDs he has with his name.

Everything fickle that anyone could ever crave has long been his. 

Envious over someone else’s wealth? Money comes and goes, and merely serves as a medium of exchange. As long as he has enough to live comfortably, then he is content. Having too much of one thing can often result in a bottomless pit of wanting more, and material good was perhaps the most evil of all.

Jealous over someone else’s beauty? Compliments and adoration are not an unfamiliar concept to him; one glance at what’s under that stone mask will have others fawning over him instantly. He claims the mask is to protect him from idiots, but perhaps it also serves to shield others from the walking sculpture that is the Veritas Ratio, sharp features and toned body, there is nothing undesirable about him.

In conclusion, jealousy and envy are not familiar concepts to Dr. Ratio. Until he met you.

A fellow member of the Intelligentsia Guild but in another department, you too are a favoured delegate of the IPC, frequently attending the same events and trips as him. Thus, it was only natural that you’d become acquainted and that he’d grow to respect you, hearing about your achievements and dedications as an academic. What was unnatural, however, was the palpitations of his heart, weakness in his knees, paired with an overwhelming excitement to see you.

He’s no fool. These sensations were all symptoms of romantic attraction, but you were a variable uncounted for in the distribution of his life, and he was not ready for an outlier so powerful that it completely ‘skewed’ him over.  

Now, he laments in the corner of champagne parties meant for socialites. He is no lover of mundane interaction but as his contract with the IPC, he comes as a representative of the Intelligentsia Guild. 

These formal events always drained the life out of him, needing him to discard his everyday, flowey, carefree attire for a constraining suit, conforming him into the regular majority. 

He raises the glass of champagne to his lips and takes a small sip, the liquor serves as lubricant to the throat. The smooth finish of the drink is exactly what he needs; talking about the same subject again and again becomes exhausting, and even though it is in his role criteria, Ratio cannot wait to leave.

But he won’t, because he hasn’t seen you yet. 

Glancing around the room for the upteemth time this evening, you still have not entered his line of sight, and he leans against the bar in disappointment.

“Oh, why the long face, Ratio?” A mischievous voice coos from beside him. “It’s not a good look on you.”

“Spare me your sentiments, gambler,” Ratio spits back.

“As you wish. Not enjoying the party?”

“If you have something you wish to say then please, spare me the pleasantries.”

Aventurine laughs, all boisterous and extravagant, gold jewelry clicking against each other, as if coming alive to match his jovialness. He really is a personified headache. “You’re looking for someone, aren’t you?”

The scholar tenses, muscles tugging at the stiff fabric of his blazer, but that micro action was enough of an answer for Aventurine.

A gloved hand points up to the mezzanine of the grand hall. Ratio spots you, leaning against the railing whilst conversing with another man, one briefly talked to earlier. If he didn’t like him before, then he certainly didn’t now.

Handsome face turning into a small scowl, it’s almost as if you feel the intensity of a certain, golden stare, causing you to turn around and find the source, eyes eventually landing on the figures of a coworker or two. A brief smile graces your face before you turn around again, turning your back on the two onlookers.

Ratio loathes what he sees, and something within him yearns to be the only man you look at, causing an ugly, green sensation to brew within him; a concoction that can only be labelled as ‘jealousy’.

He just cannot figure out what other men have that he doesn’t; what is making him secondary in your heart? Why do you give these... idiots the time of day when you could be with him- talking to him?

It's all too perplexing, you make him perplexed.

“Well, go on, doctor,” Aventurine prompts. “Place your bets before it’s too late.” 

The purple-haired sighs, pushing himself off the bar. His feet take him to you, up the velvet-carpeted stairs. His gaze never strays from you, ensuring you stay within his line of sight and eventually, he stops right behind you, acting as a looming shadow.

His gaze is cold, hoping to pierce through your conversation partner so he can finally cower away and make room for Ratio.

“Doctor!” You exclaim, surprised by his sudden appearance. “When did you get here?”

Taking a hint, the stranger finally begins to peel himself away. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/n. I hope this won’t be our last conversation.”

“Likewise, have a lovely evening,” you farewell him with a small smile as the other party turns and eventually disappears from sight.

Finally. Triumph and victory settles in Ratio’s chest when your attention is directed solely at him, but you look up at him with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.

“I swore I saw you downstairs moments ago, how did you get up here so fast?”

“I simply walked a normal pace, is that so abnormal?”

“I suppose not,” you huff, rolling your eyes. Veritas allows himself a glance over of your outfit, admiring you. “Have you talked to anyone interesting?”

You are by far the most interesting part of the evening, he thinks.

“Hardly,” he murmurs. 

“My guess is that you’d prefer to be grading student papers?” You muse, leaning in closer.

His heartbeat spikes. “Well, that is hard to say. Which would you prefer?”

“As much as I love my students, I need a break from the same thesis statements regurgitated in different formats. I’d rather be here.”

“Then that is my answer too.”

You give him a look that says ‘really?’, clearly not believing his aloof statement. Truthfully, he would rather be here because here is where you are, and he’d like a few moments with you before returning to the gloominess of his office. The hour hand is only at 11, what’s the rush?

Then, your eyes flicker to his neckline and they widen briefly, as if finding an issue with his tuxedo. “Hold still,” you command, hands coming up to rest on his sturdy chest.

You’re fixing his tie, he realises, feeling the fabric tighten ever so slightly as you adjust it. When you’re done, you flatten out the material with a satisfied smile, running your hands casually over his chest, and he hopes you cannot feel his heart jump. How do you touch him so easily, as if it means nothing?

“It was crooked,” you explain, “now you are looking as sharp as ever, Doc.”

“Thank you,” is the best thing he can sputter out.

“No problem, we need to have our genius looking proper at all times!”

Ratio is too stunned to speak, he fears that if he tried, whatever leaves his mouth will result in a various garbles and attempts at sentences.

Thankfully, you haven’t run out of words to say. “Oh, I have yet to get a drink! Will you accompany me? I could go for some refreshments right now.”

He nods and extends an arm for you to hold, and you happily accept it, holding onto his bicep as you ramble on about a conversation exchanged earlier in the night. If you were anyone else, he would not have cared in the slightest, but instead, he listens intently, taking slow and measured steps downstairs so you are comfortable.

In this bubble, the esteemed scholar is content. With you so close, it feels as if everything has clicked into place, like the scales of fate have finally balanced and equilibrium has been achieved. He could listen to you forever.

Unfortunately, all good things don’t last, because a face Ratio doesn’t recognise approaches you, hand resting on your shoulder. Judging from the manner of which they address and talk to you, you are close, and you don’t shrug them off. Next thing he knows, you’re ripped away from him, dragged into the sea of people.

You spare him a glance over your shoulder, as if apologising for the sudden disruption.

Still, he sighs, left behind with nothing but fervent symptoms of love clinging to his being, squeezing him for all he is.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[daretoassume]

you can have it all - i mean everything!

you can be full-time doing whatever you love and still have a healthy and beautiful relationship with someone, a healthy relationship with your family, do your favorite hobby every weekend or on whatever days you prefer, be financially stable, and buy whatever luxury you define.

"have faith in this unseen claim until the conviction is born within you that it is so. your confidence in this claim will pay great rewards. just a little while and he, the thing desired, will come. but without faith it is impossible to realize anything." ♱ at your command, neville goddard

the idea that a person can only have one or two probably came from a negative relative or society itself, who are most likely scared of success because they view money (which is only an exchange) as the root of all evil. but that is their belief, do not steal that from them, let it be theirs. but if you have instilled that kind of belief in yourself, know that all beliefs are neutral until you give them meaning. see it indifferently, let go, and change that belief into something that will serve you more.

if a person limits himself to just one, he will only get one. but if a person is open to the idea that he can have everything in life and still manage to do all his responsibilities, he will be given ways or opportunities to achieve that.

you can have everything you want in life and still manage everything all at once, and feel happy, fulfilled, and satisfied. only YOU can stop yourself from experiencing all of those things.

if you have the inner belief, that inner knowing that you will have the life exactly how you want it to be, you have already commanded your mind that you will live the life you desire.

[nothingenoughao3]

Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)

(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)

Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.

Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen

Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second

Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now

Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion

Horror: The trauma response to what just happened

A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.

Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.

You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?

Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)

Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).

So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.

Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.

Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.

But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion. 

How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:

Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.

He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.

Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".

He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.

He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.

He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).

Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.

The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand. 

The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.

(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)

If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.

This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.

This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.

I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.

This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED. 

To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.

I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).

Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?

I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't. 

This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.

Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.

Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.

Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.

Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.

In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".

This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.

It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.

Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.

We were illegal.

There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.

Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.

So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.

We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet. 

He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?

We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.

[creature-wizard]

Neville Goddard and Law of Assumption coaches: "Everything we're teaching you is in the Bible! You can have anything you want if you just manifest it! You can make yourself rich overnight!"

Meanwhile, the actual Bible (NKJV translation; IE, the translation Neville Goddard quote mined from):

But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, for which some have strayed from the faith in their greediness, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows. (1 Timothy 6:9-10)

Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 3:5)

Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you! Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver are corroded, and their corrosion will be a witness against you and will eat your flesh like fire. (James 5:1-3)

Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. (Matthew 6:19-20)

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? (Mark 8:36)

[christowitch]

3 If anyone teaches a different doctrine and does not agree with the sound[b] words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teaching that accords with godliness, 4 he is puffed up with conceit and understands nothing. He has an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions, 5 and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth, imagining that godliness is a means of gain. 6 But godliness with contentment is great gain, 7 for we brought nothing into the world, and[c] we cannot take anything out of the world. 8 But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content. 9 But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. 10 For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs.

1 Timothy 6: 3-10

The world is so scary right now. But these are NOT people of Christ. They do not follow his teachings. They skew the Bible and use it for gain.

In a world of false prophets..

Now is the time to be a true follower of Christ.

But know that you will be hated, persecuted and considered evil. You are not. Do not let them cause you to falter.

Feed the hungry, help the poor, give what you can and above all else.. Love..

[thislovintime]

“Peter, My name is Scott and I’m 37 years old. I was wondering, as you look back on your experience in the 1960’s, how much of the political and social ideas of the youth movement and counter culture are still valid today and whether or not you feel the same about those ideas now as you did back then. Scott” “Dear Scott, I won’t go nearly so far as to say that everything that came up in the 60’s was valid, but as far as I'm concerned, the 60’s were to what will come as Greece was to democracy. Remember that in the 60’s the political officeholders had lost all touch with the needs of the nation…kind of like the Bush administration now. Back then the voice of the establishment, Life magazine, was discovered to have doctored photos falsely indicating that LSD caused chromosomal damage. That proved what we (then) kids already knew: that those at the top preached fair play and honesty, but had no more need to honor those concepts than what would give them the next dollar without too much trouble. We saw perfectly clearly that we were on our own, that no one in authority cared about us. Now, like any bunch of kids left to their own devices, some, many, went off the rails. Every false step by somebody walking around under the cloak of the liberal hippy 60’s was used as a pretext for dissing the entire generation. Those of us who were truly interested in liberty, fraternity and equality, however, knew we were onto something good and real. What had been called democracy was, and to some extent still is, a pretext for wrapping the will of the greedy and aggressive in a mantle of public acquiescence. Now, the business of wresting power away from those who make a specialty of wielding it will be a long and protracted struggle, with a lot of setbacks along the way. The outlines of the new style of governance are only dimly perceivable, and won't become clear for a long time to come. In the meantime, our job is to practice the principles of fairness and service to the extent possible. One thing is clear: there is a much higher joy in service than there is in acquisition of wealth. (Remember that it isn't money that's the root of all evil, it’s the love of money.) Hanging together in brother - and sisterhood is so happy-making you want to sing right out loud. Yeah, I feel the same about those ideas as I did then…in case you couldn’t tell. heheheh, Peter” - Ask Peter Tork, 2008

“It’s only fear, lies and bad leadership that keeps us all from loving each other and from seeing each other clearly and purely with the eye of the mind and the love of the heart.” - Peter Tork, 16 Magazine, December 1968

[venus-haze]

Homelander x Supervillain!Reader Headcanons

Note: Mildly fem-coded reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is mostly from Homelander's perspective. I always thought it was interesting how apart from the "superterrorist" arc in season one (and into season two), supervillains aren't really a thing in The Boys universe, pretty much everyone with superpowers is affiliated with Vought.

Warnings: Violence, some mentions of sex, Homelander being Homelander. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Your powers emerge later in life, so you aren’t one of the many lauded child prodigies who accidentally burned down their own birthday parties or took out a school bus, but almost as soon as you spit at a cat-caller and the side of his car melted from the acid, Vought had its eye on you

Unfortunately for them, you aren’t interested in the slightest. The money’s good, but signing your life away to a mysterious corporation was never in the cards for you. Why let a bunch of suits call the shots when you were the one with powers? Pretty soon you’re melting bank vaults, wreaking general havoc, and living on the run. You love every minute of it

Homelander knows he can take you on, but to his shock and fury, he finds himself in a meeting with Stilwell and the marketing team who tell him that having a supervillain “arch-enemy” would further mythologize him. As much as people love having someone to root for, they’re just as intrigued by the evil thing that goes bump in the night. Besides, you mostly damage property, not people, so they figure you’re not too much of a threat to the general public

He thinks it’s ridiculous, not letting him laser you in half or snap your neck makes him look weak, or even worse, that you’re as strong as he is. The first time he takes you on, you spit at him as a Hail Mary, and to both of your shock, he hisses in pain and his skin blisters–comparatively mild to the outright bone-melting your toxin was capable of, but it cements your space in his mind as his arch-enemy

To his frustration, the suits at Vought are right, social media posts that mention you in regard to Homelander get a lot of engagement and the general public sees him even more as an otherworldly protector figure

You don’t have a supe name, but Vought dubs you ‘Rosethorn’ because you’re “beautiful yet deadly.” They slap your face on comic books that fly off the shelves. You find it ironic that Vought still finds a way to make money off of you despite your refusal to work with them

Homelander isn’t nearly as amused. The first time he sees one of the Homelander Vs. Rosethorn comics he sees red. “More like thorn in my fucking side,” he growls at the cartoonified version of you. He resents you for taking half of his spotlight, but part of him knows his resentment comes from the fact that you don’t have to answer to anyone. You do whatever the hell you want, and some people regard you as a kind of anti-hero rather than an outright villain. He doesn’t understand, you’re a criminal. You rob, cheat, and steal, and just because you hand out fistfuls of dollars every once in a while, you’re turned into some kind of underground folk hero? 

Social media is buzzing with theories that you’re actually a Vought plant to make Homelander look good or that you’re stronger than him and holding back. Naturally, people begin shipping you because of course they do. He has mixed feelings the first time he sees #Roselander trending on Twitter. It doesn’t help that sometimes you leave notes at your crimes scenes that read ‘Give Homelander my regards, XO’ 

Despite the internet frenzy and Vought marketing, you and Homelander have only been face to face a few times following the first encounter, each one giving more fuel to Homelander’s fire as he broods, stewing in his resentment toward you. You laugh at him, taunt him, literally spit at him, and he can’t do shit because Vought says not to

He definitely fantasizes about hate-fucking you, they’re all extremely deranged and elaborate. Overall, he has a lot of really complicated emotions when it comes to you. There’s some underlying affection that he’ll deny to anyone who asks. Sometimes he lets his mind wander, and in the ideal situation you’d reform and join Vought and–who the fuck is he kidding, part of him wants to break the invisible chain that keeps him tethered to Vought and see if the grass is really greener on the other side

Homelander decides he’s going to end your reign of terror once and for all when Vought indicates they want supes in the military. They now think your existence is just one of the barriers standing in the way of that, making the other Vought supes, but especially him look weak and incapable. With you out of the way, it’ll show their supes can handle military missions

Easier said than done, because when he finally corners you, ready to laser you in half like he should have all those years ago, he hesitates, and that’s all it takes for you to pounce

“Why do you let them tell you what to do? You’re stronger than them. Why do they call the shots?” you ask, and he doesn’t miss the conniving ass twinkle in your eye. He knows what you’re doing, and his gloved fists ball up at his side as everything in him screams to just kill you already. He knows you’re right. He’s the one with the real power, but he lets them order him around like a dog

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses through clenched teeth that he wishes were clamped around your throat–except he doesn’t, not really. You’re giving him an out, but he can’t take it, he’s too afraid to. After all, who is he if he’s not The Homelander?

You give him a sad smile, the kind old friends give to each other in movies when they see each other for the last time. He lets out a shaky breath. He won’t miss you. He won’t even think about you once Madelyn hears what he’s done and he gets supes into the military and Vought a lucrative contract with the Department of Defense. Another success for Homelander

“I really do like you,” you say. “I just wanted you to know that before you kill me.” Your heartbeat is steady, gaze locked in on his glowing red eyes. No one’s ever looked him in the eye upon facing their certain death from him before

He grabs your face, resisting the urge to squeeze it hard enough to break your jaw, “You’re a real piece of work. I don’t answer to anyone, got that, Rosethorn?”

You whisper your name to him, your real name, and he repeats it softly before letting go of your face and taking an unsteady step back. “You owe me. I didn’t kill you, and now you owe me.” You nod in understanding before disappearing into the night

He returns to Vought covered in blood, claiming victory over his arch-enemy once and for all. He never played poker, but you’re an ace up his sleeve if he could ever have one

[huggywuggysuppy]

The Genius Insanity of Pearl’s Impossible Minecraft Ep2

When Pearl said her and Lizzie ‘saw that we liked their ep1 collab’ how could we expect this incredible one-sided enemies arc! Pearl sulks, is egged on into a wild chase, the gains of which are immediately overshadowed, leaving her back at square one.

Spoilers, I guess?

Pearl opens her episode with a tone setting conversation with Gem, where she receives her side quest for the episode. They look out over the server and discuss plans. And here context matters.

Everyone’s got their community contribution. Impulse and Skizz with the iron farm, Grian’s public access wheat/potato farms, Joel’s skeleton spawner, even Gem with her ep1 berry bushes. And Lizzie, with her enchantment table and iron farm path and decorative parkour bridge and wool farm and

Except for Pearl. Who, after all the shenanigans in the first ep, hasn’t put down roots yet or really built much. Two things she will not solve this episode.

Pearl admires and sulks a little over Lizzie’s cool house. Lizzie, who will NOT stop infringing on her brand! Magnificent material-intensive build that outshines and inspires everyone around it, learning new redstone mechanics, community service esp the paths — come on Pearl was literally the path lady in hc8! At this point Lizzie may as well put on a red cloak and record at 5 am!

Gem of course recognizes all of this and uses it for evil. She points out Pearl’s reaction with the type of glee only best friends can reach and taunts Pearl into action. Of course she’s gonna out-do Lizzie, right? Gem also sends her down the funniest path possible of acquiring one of her least favorite wood types. Ohh, Gem loves building with dark oak, if only someone was already building with it!

(That clip of Gem calling out Impulse’s love language as gift giving, yeah, Pearl has no room to talk.)

While outwardly confused by Gem’s over the top behavior, Pearl rolls with it and sets off on her material grabbing adventure. She stumbles across a couple odds and ends, and despite admitting that she doesn’t want any, goes incredibly out of her way to get dark oak. Aww. She’s so sweet when she’s competitive. Inevitably, she dies a couple times, but pulls herself up and cheerfully chats with people when she respawns.

And Lizzie, who is endlessly kind and caring and helpful and impossible to hate, giving out charitable iron helmets and offering her very horse up to Pearl. Her horse! Which dies, as many things do in this series, not that Lizzie minds all that much. But of course Pearl raises the stakes and promises a better horse to replace the one she lost.

(I’d put money on it that MrMakisten is coding up evil horse mechanics into the pack as we speak)

Eventually, Pearl finally returns with all (most) of her things and breathes a sigh of relief. Yet, before she can properly gift Gem the saplings and celebrate, her success is immediately overshadowed by Impulse and Skizz arriving with stacks and stacks of iron blocks. At Lizzie’s base, no less.

Pearl recognizes as the end of the episode that she spent a lot of time on a little thing. And honestly given the Horrors necessary to do anything in the datapack, she did make notable progress. But what gets to her isn’t the episode itself, no, it’s that she didn’t get her brand back. She could’ve just built her house and/or a farm of some sort and contributed just fine.

But that wouldn’t be enough in her head.

Fantastic episode all around! I’m so curious to see what happens in the nether, and if she’s actually able to make her house.

All the analysis said, this is for fun, and I love Pearl and Lizzie and the rest of the gang. I hope they keep having as much fun as they can in the series :)

[promptling]

THE LAST WITCH HUNTER ( 2015 ) change pronouns as needed!

in her death lies our salvation.

let fear be dead to us.

there is no going back, for there is nothing to go back to.

this place reeks of death.

keep your wits about you.

everyone you love is gone.

i've seen it in your eyes, you wish for death.

you will never die.

i've been looking for these for awhile.

it's simple science.

you're gonna kill me?

i need you to take a seat.

you have no sense of time.

what happened to the ipad i gave you?

we're not all as adaptable as you.

i'm in a sentimental mood.

there are shades of evil everywhere.

if the window hasn't been opened, how did that get in here?

you wanna quit?

it is not illegal to sell mind-altering bugs.

you're too smart to go down that road.

one can only imagine how many times i've been lied to.

i never met the man in my life!

please don't think less of me.

you'll never see daylight again.

are you guys okay?

people shouldn't root around in their past.

every generation has to be given their chance to destroy the world.

you've got magic in your blood.

i'm not blaming you for destroying my life or anything, i'm just making an observation.

if you help me, i promise to keep you safe.

it's old money, old magic, and dangerous.

nothing more powerful for dark magic.

what is it that you don't want me to see?

you know what i like about thrift shops? everything in them is old.

you knew i would discover your secret, and you didn't care.

it was a very brave thing to do.

you are a disgrace to our kind.

i could have killed every last one of you.

i hope i don't look as rough as you do.

i'm afraid i bear some responsibility.

i've seen what comes next.

i'll do the honors.

clay cannot be turned to gold.

i don't know what happens next.

come on, you're not getting any younger.

you ready to go, or what?

i'm driving.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Weight Of Perfection - Prof. Otto Octavius X Female Reader

Title: The Weight Of Perfection

Prof. Otto Octavius X Female Reader (platonic)

Additional Characters: Reader's family (Mentioned)

Requested By: @astrohive

WC: 2,152

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to have immigrant parents, Reader overworks herself, overachieves, italics, loss of sleep, lots of coffee, prof/student platonic, could be read as romantic?, worries over money/family/future, mini angst, somewhat hurt/comfort, and fluff

"No, this isn't right," You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the roots - your scalp burning slightly - as you stared down at your test results. Your eyes flickered over the results, reading and re-reading repeatedly, hoping that it was just your brain playing evil tricks on you. But, the more you read the results on the paper, the more you didn’t like what you saw. You didn’t like the way your score looked; you felt cheated by it all. Stupid Uni. You had spent so many nights, days, hours, and minutes slaving over your desk with nothing but four cups of coffee, your computer, and a dream.

You knew that you shouldn't be so worked up about your test results, but you had worked so hard for so long, ignoring sleep and time for breaks, why didn't you get one hundred percent? Why!? Ninety-nine percent... Ninety-nine! You were so close... You'd just have to work harder, stay up later, drink more coffee, and cancel plans with friends if you must. You had to make sure that you and your family had the best possible chances for anything in life. 

Being the eldest daughter of immigrant parents, you knew all that your parents did to make sure you had a better life. You knew how much they worked and struggled in order to afford the apartment where you stayed. You knew how their jobs made them tired and stressed. And, you knew that everything they had sacrificed to give you - and your siblings - the best life, to give you a decent future that you could strive towards for the rest of your life, was going to go to waste because of something as trivial as a test score. How could you get into a good, well-paying job to help your parents, if you didn't strive for the best, and be the best? They had done so much for you…

Seeing how hard you worked, your parents were supportive, but they wanted you to get some rest. They didn’t want you working so hard - hard enough that you were losing sleep. They just wanted you to be happy; you were already top of all of your classes practically. But no matter what your score was after every essay, test, homework, or quiz, you always thought that you could do better. Yes, you were at the top of your class, with perfect grades throughout every class. But, that wasn't enough for you. You wanted - no - needed to be at one hundred percent all the time. 

It was a strain on your mind and body, but you could do it. Why did it matter if you lost sleep? You'd lose some sleep for days, maybe even weeks, and in the end, you'd pave the way for your - and your family's - perfect future. You'd struggle now, but you could sleep and rest in the future.

How could you provide for your family if you didn't care about the future? What kind of future would it be if you weren't working yourself as hard as you possibly could? You'd be basically giving up your dreams.

Closing the test results tab on your computer, you clicked into your physics class's home page. Your professor, Dr. Otto Octavius, was a nuclear physicist, and - as said - your professor. You enjoyed the class - it was one of your favorites - especially in your first year, but the harder you worked, the more the class and the lessons ended up being repetitive. They weren’t as fun anymore, and that saddened you. You used to love school and university, but after spending hours and hours studying and obsessing over tests and exams... You couldn't wait until graduation. Only a few more months, and you’d be free; hopefully with a promising future for you and your family.

"I have to do better," You scolded yourself, "This can't happen again." 

Opening the project folder, you read the prompt your professor had written out for the project.

'Write a fifteen-page essay on the power of the sun.' 

'Huh!?' You thought, "What does that even mean?" You asked, "What about the sun?" You suspected it was supposed to be about the physics or nuclear physics of the sun; so you'd have to go with that. And so, you immediately got to work.

~~~

It had been a week since you sent in your essay. A week. A week with no answers, nothing. You didn't know how well you had done on it, nobody else in class knew about theirs either. That was just how Professor Octavius liked to do things in his class. He’d reveal the scores on the twentieth. But, for the past week, you had been at the edge of your seat, biting your nails, worrying your bottom lip - your legs shaking and bouncing up and down - your eyes wide and hair frazzled. Why couldn't he just tell you? You needed to know. Then, that essay would be one more thing on your list to not have to worry about. 

But you continued to worry. Your mind was racing and gears turning. Your wicked imagination ran wild with possible outcomes. What if you failed it, completely? What if you failed so badly that he kicked you out of the class? What if you did so terribly on the essay that you didn't graduate? Then you wouldn't get a good job, or pay off your parent’s house, or a place for your siblings - yourself - no job, no money, no helping your family, no nothing. You were doomed to a bleak existence of failure and depression. 

You'd never be able to pay off your student loans...

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow. We're going to start on our last lesson before the break. Get some rest, everyone." Your professor's words broke you out of your mini anxiety attack, making you blink and slip out of the messy fog. However, you were still nervous, even when you packed up your bag and books. The paper coffee cup - half full - was still warm enough to drink. But you were sort of desperate enough to drink cold coffee at this point. Getting back into your head, you mentally planned out the rest of your day - again, for the seventh time that day - mindlessly making your way out of the classroom. "Y/N," You heard him call your name, making you snap out of it once more. Looking over at the man, standing at his desk, glasses in hand, he gestured over to you; gesturing for you to come over to his desk. 

Slipping out of the fray of other students leaving, you found yourself at his desk. Your grip on your coffee cup tightened, "Yes, professor?" You asked softly, albeit awkwardly, hoping that he was going to tell you how well you did on the essay - give you a hundred percent - and you'd be on your way. 

He silently sat down at his desk, letting out a sigh, one that you didn't find reassuring. "About your essay-"

"How did I do?" You asked quickly - before you immediately felt your cheeks burn for interrupting him. "I- I am sorry, please continue."

"No need," He shook his head, smiling slightly, "I am happy to see how dedicated you are in your studies, and wanting to get an excellent grade in my class. As for how you did on your essay, it was..." He paused and you watched as he grabbed your thick essay from the top drawer of his desk. You could see from just where you were - in front of his desk - the red pen marks on the front page, "... Adequate," He finished, and your shoulders immediately dropped. 

"Adequate?" You asked, you felt like your world was crashing down on you. This was the second to last project for the class, and all you got was an 'adequate.' "What did I do wrong? How can I fix it? Is there any way I can do extra credit? I mean- how- how is it not perfect? I looked over it a thousand times before submitting it, and I have rewritten it over a dozen times." You were keeping your tone calm, but your eyes were wide and your hands shaking slightly, and Otto could see that. “I was so sure that it was perfect.”

"Miss L/N," He began, "As said, I admire how much effort you put into your work. No matter what it is, you always leave with incredibly high marks." He complimented you, but all you could think about was how you'd probably lose your place on the Dean's List if he gave you a 'B' or how you would not graduate at the top of your class. You’d fail your family… You couldn't be 'adequate,' you needed to be perfect. You needed to be perfect in order to take care of your family. "And, I understand that taking a break might be difficult. But, I believe some rest would help you greatly.”

His words made you raise an eyebrow, "Rest?" You then spoke, and he nodded.

"I can see that you are pushing yourself," He spoke, gesturing to your shaking hands, the coffee cup in your hand, and your somewhat frazzled appearance. "I was like that too when I was in University. Just because I am a professor and have a PhD in nuclear physics, doesn't mean that I was exempt from stress."

"I'm fine, really." You took a sip of the coffee, "I just like making sure things are perfect before sending them in."

"I completely understand that, Y/N," He spoke, standing, holding your essay in hand, "But, let me tell you this," He held out your graded essay towards you, "Nothing has to be perfect in order for you to achieve your dreams."

Taking the essay from his hands, your eyes landed on the 'A+' marked in red pen in the corner of the paper. "Thank you, professor," You said, letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding. You could cry.

A knowing look settled in his eyes before he smiled, and nodded, "Of course," He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, "I actually have something that might interest you." He spoke, gaining your attention, "I select a small group of students - that I've deemed promising - for an internship, where you'd learn under a senior scientist, along with myself during the summer. I believe that it would be good for you if you'd consider attending."

'An internship?' You thought, your eyes widening, as did your smile, 'An internship could help me incredibly. I could get a job right after college, no problem.' You felt your stomach flutter, 'My family could finally be comfortable-'

Your thoughts were interrupted by your professor's voice, bringing you out of your bubble. "It's a four-week course. We'd go over nuclear physics, plan a group project, as well as, helping individuals with job interviews. After that, you will have a chance to decide whether or not you want to pursue a career in the field.” He spoke, placing his hands on his hips, and raising an expectant brow. "Would you be interested in joining?"

"Oh, uh, yes! Of course!" You nodded swiftly, "Thank you so much for the opportunity!"

"Of course," He grinned, opening the classroom door for you, "I'll be expecting you then. The first lesson will be held in my lab in Greenwich. I will email you the information." You both slid into the hallway. But, as you went to leave to head home, he spoke once more, "Y/N," You turned, and he gestured to the coffee in your hand, "Get some rest." He reminded you, and with a nod, you headed out of the building.

Getting in your car, you let out a small squeal. This was it, you could feel it. This was the opportunity that you had been waiting for. You knew that it would lead to something amazing. And you were so ready for it. If you did well during this internship, you could possibly get a job straight out of Uni. You'd be able to make enough money - especially in such a scientific field - and not only would you have enough for yourself, but for your family. You'd be able to pay off your parent's house and take care of any payments or debts. You could help your siblings, and make sure they have anything and everything they need. You'd be able to provide everything they need for their future; like you promised. And you were excited beyond belief, despite how exhausted you were. You felt giddy, a grin spread across your face. 

And even though you had a few leftover projects, homework, and whatnot left over to do for the upcoming days and weeks, you figured that you could do all that later. The moment you got back to your apartment, you were taking a well-deserved nap.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

[judesmoonbeauty]

Here's a thought that I've had for a while and have decided to randomly share, but remember the post I mentioned about ragged schools?

Well, a part of their education was also prayer and religious instruction. I've thought this for a while now, but Jude doesn't seem to be very comfy with religion, and I've also noticed that some settings take place in the church.

Kind of going into spoilers here, so I'll add a cut. There’s no point to this post, it’s just an observation.

For example, in the first wedding event, Jude calls the chapel cursed amongst other things. Perhaps because that's where marriage vows are made and he believes love is a curse, but it could be other reasons.

In his first BD story, Kate is found unconscious in a church. I thought that was an odd random setting, but let's just say it could be significant?

In his bond level 7, he uses the term "root of all evil," when referring to love, but is usually reserved for money. (Which we know Jude needs a lot of.) The fact that he is using a play on words in a scriptural sense doesn't surprise me because back then religion was everything. I listen to a historical podcast, where it discussed how even during job interviews you'd be asked what church you were affiliated with.

Moving on, in Ellis' route, Jude refused to enter a church. I'm sure his reasoning for not being interested in going inside was valid somewhat, but I don't think that was the whole reason. I could be wrong though.

Now, in the second wedding event, he does go to a church to be wed, but that is to make Kate's dream to come true. (Awwww). In any case, he has the pastor escorted out right out so he can sign a contract with his wife.

Finally, from what I could tell, out of all the IkeVil suitors I think Jude mentions going to hell the most. Not that the others don’t, but it’s something he says quite a bit. I wonder if it’ll be a part of his lore at all?

[perpetualexistence]

if noah was actually written as the schemer, how do you think it would have gone exactly? love your writings btw

Thank you so much! And oh, anon. Anon you've unlocked character analysis mode. I hope you're ready for a bunch of paragraphs, because that's what you're getting.

First of all, as much as I love writing a Noah who can scheme on par with Alejandro or Heather, he's a different kind of schemer than them. Noah’s a lazy character at heart, particularly season 1 Noah. This is true whether or not you believe the theory that he sabotaged himself to get out of the game early. He’s a child who was born naturally smart. He hacked his way into moderating a forum at age 5 because he truly believed he could do a better job at it. He's going to believe in working smarter rather than harder.

Thus, his scheming reflects this. If Heather is a snake, and Alejandro is an eel, then Noah is a vulture. (Specifically a white-rumped vulture since its habitat as India. This isn't actually important to the narrative. But it's important to me to have animals that share the same roots as the characters they represent.) The bird has a reputation for being evil, but isn’t really. Noah’s more opportunistic than anything. He’s the type to let other people do all the hard work before swooping in for the kill.

His plan going into Island is to latch onto the strongest competitor and ride their coat tails. He'll stay in the middle of the pack for as long as possible. Once that's no longer an option, he'll commit to winning challenges to gain immunity.

Cue Heather. He can immediately recognize that she's one to take charge and sabotage. Which is perfect for him. He presents himself as an option for being her spy for the boys once he realizes she's looking for alliances (because I do rather like this direction that canon could have taken if they had committed to him being the schemer). He lets Heather take the lead, though does offer valuable suggestions based on his observations on the other contestants.

He also commits to getting close with Lindsay. He needs her to be more loyal to him than she is to Heather. He does this by indulging in her attempts to have them all be best alliance buddies. Babes, as she calls them. Noah tries arguing that there shouldn't be an 'e' in there, and also he's not a 'babe'. Heather and her, sure. But definitely not him. Lindsay refuses to listen to this logic because he's a part of the alliance, so he's a babe, and they can just give him a makeover if he's hung up on it!

Noah and Lindsay do end up becoming legitimate friends. The potential friendship of bimbo with a heart of gold and cold little cynic is just too much for me not to have them be friends. Schemer Noah still has a heart. And if he can have a friend and a shot at the prize money, then he'll take both. Besides, it's not like he's doing her any harm in trying to keep her completely from Heather's clutches.

All the while, he's making plans for eventually betraying Heather. He establishes early on that he has a 'journal' that's clearly a diary. It doesn't have anything in it, but no one else knows that. After a few episodes, he'll complain about it going missing. Not too long after, he'll be completely quiet about the matter.

See, Noah's patient. Once he's ready to drop Heather, he'll absolutely reveal the alliance. And he'll reveal that the only reason he was a part of it was because Heather stole his journal and threatened to read it to everyone just like she'd done to Gwen. It would immediately gain him sympathy points and paint a huge target on Heather's back that he'd coast by stress-free. And who are they going to believe? The girl who's been tormenting everyone from the beginning? Or the guy who hasn't been doing much?

Part of me wants to say he'd reveal this grand plan during/after Lindsay's elimination when it is suddenly very clear the alliance is over. Either way, his plan has worked, and now he can just coast on his sympathy until he's in the final three.

He still doesn't win the season. This is due to a combination of factors, centered around one thing: his overconfidence in his intelligence. He can make a plan, and he can execute it flawlessly. But he doesn't do so well at improvising, or thinking of what comes after.

He assumed that tossing Heather aside would see her focus her effort on winning and trying not to get eliminated. He underestimated how vindictive she would be, to the point of risking her own elimination to make sure Noah doesn't win, either. He also neglected to play the social game thanks to spending most of his time spying. Sure, he has their sympathy for being used by Heather. But most of them barely know him, and they'd rather protects their own friends than go out of their way to not eliminate Noah.

I don't know when exactly he'd be eliminated. It could be either before or after Heather, though I don't see him making it to the final three. I think final three is the farthest I'd be willing to put him, because there's no way he's not quitting on the dares before Owen or Gwen.

At the playa de losers, he has a bit of an existential crisis because this is the first time his intelligence hasn't just given something to him. Lindsay helps him through it in her own Lindsay way by serving as a reminder that she isn't smart, but she's still kicking! Plus, she was still able to tell Heather off, to which he would admit he was fairly impressed with the insults she threw down. He had no idea she had it in her.

He still manages to make friends with Izzy and Eva. This mainly happens during the special when all of a sudden there's a million on the line. He throws his lot in with two of the physically strongest competitors (who don't currently hate his guts), and accidentally makes more friends along the way. (I can never abandon Team E-scope).

When World Tour hits, he knows he has to force himself to be a more active participant. He knows he can't win the physical game, so he'll just have to, ugh, put effort into the social game. He still needs someone else to latch onto to help him with that, so he settles for Owen. He tells Owen that he's trying to be more 'friendly', and Owen's more than happy to take him under his wing! He's never really done that before! It'll be fun for both of them, he promises! (Nowen to some extent is also a constant in any of my ideas).

Meanwhile he also has to keep tabs on Alejandro. He sees the guy going after Team Victory one by one, but doesn't say anything because it's not his problem. ...Until he remembers that Lindsay is in Team Victory. So now he's got to scheme a way to get Alejandro to steer his attention away from Lindsay while also making sure Alejandro doesn't figure out who he's trying to protect.

It'll probably eventually lead to him and Heather teaming up against Alejandro as an 'enemy of my enemy' pact. Except Alejandro sees this and begins to tempt Noah to join his side as well. Everyone in the trio knows that the others are trying to take advantage of them. It's very much a Mexican standoff.

Aaaaand that's all I've got! I know Season 3 wasn't as detailed as Season 1 was, but I'm getting tired as I'm writing this reply due to the time I'm writing it. Also, the ideas have straight up run out for now, so time will tell what happens.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, anon!

[countrymusiclover]

14 - The First Date

Part 15

It's About Time

Question - would you all want me to write somewhat smut between Y/n and Georgie. Anyway let me know in the comments below.

Georgie and I had agreed that it was best to start telling people about us and not have to hide it anymore since we have almost gotten caught six different times. Three of those times were by my parents. “So are you sure we shouldn’t tell Marlowe before I go ask your parents permission to take you on a date?” Georgie asked, sitting in the passenger seat in my truck. 

“Georgie, trust me. He’s gonna take the news that I’m not his girlfriend anymore pretty easy. You should be more worried about what my dad is going to say to you,” I warned him with a raised brow. 

Georgie nodded nervously. “Believe me I’m shaking in my boots about this.” 

“I am too - but we should be okay as long as we through it together.” I touched my right hand with his left and he smiled. He placed his hand in mine, miring the same smile. 

Georgie and I pulled up in my truck outside of his house walking inside to see Mary, Missy and Memaw talking by the dinner table. He shut the front door gaining his mother's attention and she put her hands together in excitement. “Hey. How was your first week at work?”

“Amazing. I made $38 on commissions alone.” He smiled and I reflected his excitement knowing we always worked well together in most situations. 

Memaw cheered him on too. “Well, good for you.’

“What's for dinner?” Georgie asked his mother. 

She replied. “Meatloaf.”

“Oh. I think I'm gonna go out to eat.’ Georgie glanced at me knowing we had a different plan in mind. 

She glared at him. “No, you are not. We're having dinner as a family.” 

“Yeah, but I got money now and I can do what I want. And what I want is a chimichanga at Chi-Chi's.” Georgie barked at his mother, throwing his hands away from his sides. 

Missy ‘s storm grumbled where she responded quickly. “I want a chimichanga from Chi-Chi's.”

“They do have a good margarita.” Connie added in trying to convince her daughter. 

She looked between her daughter and mother. “You are eating here. So are you. I don't care what you do.”

“Mrs. Cooper, the real reason we want to go out tonight is because it’s technically our first date together.” I nervously told her with a kind smile hoping that she would understand if I told her why he really didn’t want to eat the dinner she cooked tonight. 

Georgie reached down grasping my hand in his and we headed towards the front door. “See, this is supposed to be special. I haven’t even asked her parents, which means we gotta go do that before getting dinner.”

“Georgie Cooper. Do not walk out of that door. Georgie! Missy, let this be a lesson to you. The love of money is the root of all evil.” Mrs. Cooper raised her voice watching us leave without saying another word. Georgie got in the driver's seat and I paused getting into the vehicle hearing his father come inside the house. 

“Hey! You would not believe the wheelin' and dealin' I did today. I'm playing the high school and the university against each other. Hey, what do you say we go out to dinner?”

Connie chimed in with excitement. “Chi-Chi's is good.”

“Ooh, chimichangas.” Mr. Cooper cheered before we saw the four of them leave the house and get in his car following behind us until we went down a different road heading to my parents house. 

Georgie and I slowly walked up the small driveway where he knocked a few times on the door before it opened revealing my mother to greet us. “Hi sweetie. Georgie, what brings you two here so early from work?” 

“Mom, Georgie wants to ask you and dad something.” I responded to her before we walked inside the house and she shut the door behind her watching me sit down on the couch. 

She nodded leaving the room. “I'll go get him.” 

“Hey, you've got nothing to worry about. It's not like we got pregnant or arrested and we're asking him for bail money.” I tried to reassure my best friend. 

He gulped when my parents entered the room sitting down in their living room chairs looking at him before he started talking. “Mr and Mrs. L/n, I have something to ask you two. So I've been best friends with your daughter for a while and I was thinkin’ it was time I finally take her out on a date with your permission of course.” 

“George Jr, if I let my baby girl go out with you you've gotta promise me that you will treat her right and make sure y'all don't get in trouble. Can you do that for me?” My father got up from his chair and got in his face with a very serious tone. 

Georgie replied. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good boy. What do you think, honey?” My father pats him on the back looking at my mom. 

“I have no problem. Honestly I've been waiting for you two to get together already.” She grinned hugging me before I went back over to my best friend and we headed back outside the house. “Have fun you two!” 

After we had got there and ordered drinks waiting for food and when we got our drinks I lifted mine up in the air declaring with a teasing smile. “To the more romantic Taco Bell.” 

“To the more romantic Taco Bell.” He clinched his glass with mine before we both took separate drinks sitting our glasses down on the table. “I can’t believe you remembered I said that.” 

“What are best friends for otherwise? I’m sure there’s stuff you remember about me that I’d rather forget.” 

Georgie chimed in jokingly. “Are you talking about the time on Christmas Eve where you accidentally got into the egg nog and thought you could walk in a straight line on Hannah’s parents roof.” 

“And I fell into the bushes getting splinters nearly everywhere.” I smacked a hand over my face so embarrassed. “Gosh I had forgotten all about that night until you brought it up.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “It was the first thing that popped into my head.” 

“I hate you.” I glared at him from across the table. 

He made a face. “Really?” 

“No! I could never hate you. It’s just embarrassing.” I hit my hands on the table reaching across and holding my hands in his, my face still had a light pink to it. 

Georgie sent me a smile, getting an idea in his mind. “Not sure if you’re up to this but we could always go out to the old 6’s fort we found in the woods when we were ten.” 

“And invite our friends for a reunion there or like just the two of us?” I asked him even though I already had an answer in mind of what he was going to say. 

“I was thinkin’ just us this one time.” 

I nodded my head slowly where we saw the waitress bring our food and so we started eating. I set my fork down pausing before I ate my next bite. “That should be fun. But I do think we should tell them we’re together just to avoid any confusion.” 

“Sounds like a good plan. Let’s do it tomorrow after the last period.” He agreed with what I said. 

I tilted my head with curiosity. “So what exactly are we gonna do at the cabin tomorrow night hmm?” 

“I’d rather keep it a secret, darling.” He smirked at me and I lightly blushed again enjoying the nickname being thrown out into the open again. With a high chance of luck our friends would be esthetic or say they told us so. 

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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[trubirb]

Hey, love your superhero OC! What kind of crime does she fight? Do you have recurring antagonists she has to go up against?

I’m glad you asked!!

So the reoccurring theme of her story has to do with money and the “root of all evil” thing.

Jupiter/Ada herself is a college dropout drowning in student debt and just trying to survive in the city she grew up in.

One villain, Cass, is an owner of a popular casino. She is more of an anti-hero, tbf. I’ll leave a few sketches of her at the bottom!

I also have ideas for lots of other villains that relate to money. Some of them have names and more details, but I’d be here for hours lol

- Loan Sharks

- Money Launderers

- Something related to Crypto scammers

- rich obnoxious business man

- evil scientist who wants to sell dangerous weapons on the black market

Overall, a lot of the crime she fights is underground. Not a lot of big city m-destroying criminals, but slinky, conniving ones that seek riches. Juxtaposing Jupiter’s brash and forward thinking.

Tbh, I need to work on fleshing out some of the villains. :/

Here’s Cass! It’s an older drawing. Now she’s got different hair and clothes and stuff, so I’ll post some photos of her later when I can!