#my existence can be summed up by the constant feeling of running out of time

[umilily]

for someone who's so damn tired all the time, i sure am restless.

[gojology]

Intense Healing Session.

the request :

pairing : caring! healer! fem! reader x gojo satoru hehhehe warnings : cursing, implications of seggs after sum intense kissing, pet names wordcount : 2.0k a/n : yoyo i’m back!! semi-long one for u all. cute request, anon. sorry for late delivery. pls dont rate me a 1/5 on yelp </3 hehe the title is kinda funny LOL

     You’re beginning to hate Satoru.        Surprisingly, it’s not for the reasons people dislike him- he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, never quite learned how to seal his lips just because of how important he was to the jujutsu world. Unsurprisingly, he gets away with everything because he’s attractive and crucial to defeating curses, and there’s no shame in admitting it.       People hate Satoru for his destructive personality, he’s carefree and doesn’t let anything get to him. This may be a good trait for the untrained eye, but look carefully and you’ll see just how hectic he gets. It’s manageable since you don’t have to deal with him at the level of the Jujutsu elders.       You don’t particularly hate him for this, though.       It’s the fact he puts you through so much work, for almost no reason. You’re a healer- something very important to the quaint school that you worked at. Healing abilities are often overlooked, it’s often said that if a jujutsu sorcerer can’t provide offense, then they’re not much of a jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you have little to no talent in the battlefield, so essentially you’re a meat shield to everyone.      It was a growing occurrence to see him after every business trip, slightly roughed up but not enough to kill him. He comes into the room you share alongside Shoko, almost always when she’s not there, takes his shirt off, and displays a wide variety of cuts and bruises on his back like he’s a museum. You’d scold him, asking him how he’d get such abrasions with his infinity up constantly- but Satoru would hum, unanswering while you’re working your hands on his back.      Maybe you’re overreacting- but something tells you he does this on purpose, perhaps to fuck with you, and you’re bitter about it.     So it wasn’t surprising to see him whistle a sweet tune, hands shoved deep into his uniform pockets, casually strolling into the medical attention room for the fifth time this month.    “Gojo Satoru.” you say his full name aloud, just so he knows how much you hate his presence. Turning to look at you, his face displays innocent shock, but you just know that he’s probably rolling around in the inside seeing how riled up you got just by him stepping into the room.     Drained, lifeless eyes stare back at his childish bright ones.     Gojo places a hand on his chest defensively, “Well, I’ll be, Y/N. When did you want to disrespect your senior?” he snickers before shutting the door behind him. “You mad?”      “Unbearably. Lucky I care for you.” you utter back, venom dripping in your words, you feel like you’re making a fool of yourself as you shove your lunch aside that you had been enjoying on the tiny table next to you, sighing and rubbing your temples, tugging and effectively straightening your coat. “Get on the bed, let me work my magic.”     Looking at you with a shit-eating grin, he whistles, placing his elbows against the mattress, his roughened hands caressing his cheeks. “Working your magic? I’m interested. Tell me more, Y/N. Does this involve... Getting naked, perhaps?”     Staggering, you give him a dirty glare, “Satoru! I’ve been working my ass off like every week to get you all healed up, and you dare be perverted in my-”     “No cursing, lil girl! You wouldn’t want this rubbing off on Yuuji-kun and everyone else, would you? You’d be charged with a felony!” leaving you stunned for a second time- the first time being when his lanky figure strode into the room like it was his room- you don’t even know how to respond. How could one possibly be so... Ungrateful for your work?  Well, then again the elders existed... That was besides the point, though. You’re not even sure if Yuuji knows what the word fuck or shit is.     He drags his finger lazily along the cot, drawing various shapes into existence, giving you a skeptical look. “Not gonna answer? Stumped?”     He broke through your train of thought, and you shake your head. “Satoru, I don’t know any sort of fighting jujutsu, but I will fucking pulverize you and make sure you’ll be dust by the time I’m done with y-”     Butting in, he raises his hand as a way to shut you up. “Honeybun, you’re an amazing jujutsu sorcerer, but I hope you realize why they call me the strongest of all time. If you haven’t noticed, it’s because I have a constant shield. The closest you can get to doing that is maybe poking me.”     Giving him a snooty face, you’re frankly about to push him out of the room with sheer willpower and hatred alone. It seems he realizes this, a moment of adoration flickering across his eyes before finally neutralizing. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing with you. You’re so cute when I do though, like a little... Rabid raccoon! How can I not resist?”     It’s difficult to tell if that’s a compliment or an insult, with Satoru, it could be several things. But, you’re still slightly flattered, knowing him he’d go out of his way to lengthen his insult if it was one- just another reason why you hated him. Being called a rabid raccoon was definitely not on Satoru’s top 10 utterly offensive insults.       ���Shut up, Satoru. Here, take off your shirt, what did you get yourself into this time?”       He obliges with a nasty grin on his handsome features, hastily yanking off his uniform. Underneath was a very meticulously trained body, toned muscles and all. You can’t help but to also catch a glimpse of his collarbones, which were so defined it looked like it could cut your butter for your morning pancakes. You gulp, blinking, you had forgotten just how well-shaped he was in the one week you hadn’t seen him.       “No need to stare, sweetums.” he chirps, realizing your darkening cheeks. “Feed my ego any more and I’ll probably burst and my organs will decorate your walls. You can donate my body to the local college, they’ll be surprised by how top-notch they are.”       Giving him another stern, but much more sheepish gaze, he snaps his mouth shut, but a triumphant smile replaced his grin in place.      “Please, no gruesome detailing. I’d much rather my cute kitten posters.” you motion to a white cat slumbering peacefully in a basket.      “Looks just like you.” he says.      You close your eyes and pretend he’s not there, choosing to ignore yet another one of his compliments, but your heart thumps faster in your heaving chest. Heaven knows how curious your hands could get if you could see where you were touching-      “Those are my abs, Y/N. I think we’re focusing on my back.” he muses aloud in an almost teasing tone. You can already imagine how obnoxious his face is, opening your eyes hesitantly, blinking to adjust to the bright room lights. Your hands are still hovering above his abs, his gaze is upon yours, looking at you with a mix of speculation and speechlessness. Instead of his unusual smug smirk, there’s an almost coy expression on his features, which shocked you.        “How’d your hands get there? Last time I checked, abs are at the front, not the back, hmmm?”        You grit your teeth, your face flush with warmth at your sudden realization. There was no cheeky retort you could’ve possibly come up with, after all, he was right, how did your hands wander to his abs? You weren’t thinking of doing it. You weren’t interested in him either, but he was attractive. Of course you’d be too curious for your own good.. Yes, that was it..       “Your hands are still on an inappropriate place, Y/N. Except, a lil lower than last time.” he chuckles wholesomely as you jerk up, straightening yourself and clearly sweating, your arm wiping your brow and exhaling a drawn-out and awfully dramatic sigh.       “Give me a break, Satoru. I just, um, you know... Zone out.” your pitch was unconvincing, high-pitched and wavering, bringing your chances of believability to a low.      “So, this is like, the 375th time since you’ve zoned out, lil girl.” he tsks, “You’ve gotta sound convincing if you wanna fuckin lie, you know.”      “I--” you falter, now clearly a shade darker than you were just 5 minutes ago. Your heart beating so rapidly it was almost like you were running a marathon. Why was your pulse so quick? Why was everything in the room a blur besides him? Why couldn’t you focus on healing him? What was he doing to you?      “You haven’t even begun the healing process.” he murmurs, his large hands caressing your arm that was by your side. “Anything you want to tell me, pumpkin? I’m on a tight ass schedule, but I’ll let Ijichi solve that. Spit it out.”       His voice rang out high and clear amongst the hectic fight that was going inside your head, steadying your thoughts. A few moments pass by, studying him, lips moving but no words coming out. Why was it so difficult to say through the insults, you cared for him, and wanted him to be more careful? Was it because of the monster inside of you, who wanted him to get hurt, to spend his time with you, listen to his horrible compliments and giggle at the jokes he made as you worked at a snail’s pace on his back, that weren’t even funny, but was funny because of his presence in the dead room, his boyish laugh very much needed in such days of flatness?      “Satoru..” you finally muster out, his eyes flickering on you once more as he was studying the kitten poster with much boredom. “I just.. Care for you.”      “Huh.” is all he says, face falling and examining the spotless floor. “Is that all?”      Acknowledging his body language, you huff, suddenly filled with the need to defend yourself. “What else did you want me to say? I just feel like you’ve gotten yourself hurt a lot more recently and... I just, want you to be more careful. That’s all.”     “No.” he was barely audible, so you had to lean down to hear him. “No, that’s not it at all. You’re hiding something. Do you prefer me to say it?”     Puzzled, you peer at him with childlike curiosity gleaming in your eyes. What did he know about you that you didn’t? Surely, you knew all about yourself?    “You’re not that fucking dumb, are you?”     “Huh?-” you begin to speak, clearly offended, but you’re stopped.     By none other than his lips.      They’re soft, pillow-like even. A familiar warmth floods inside of you at the sudden physical contact from Satoru, except it’s amplified by 10 times. A moan slips out of your mouth, his hand against your back so suddenly you could’ve sworn it wasn’t there just a millisecond ago. His lips were mashing against yours, as if he wanted to have done this a long time ago. You hungrily push back, teasing your mouth with his tongue that slipped just barely into your mouth before indulging in you, which you thought wouldn’t had ever happened prior to this.      You grip the back of his head firmly, as if he were to escape, other hand tangled in his snow white tufts of hair. Eyelashes fluttering, heavy breathes fanning out both of your noses, your lips were sure to be swollen after this. Your tongues dueling each other, working your mouth against his. His unoccupied hands start to play with the hem of your shirt, and another moan slips out of your mouth, anxious to have progressed so far to the removal of clothing, but at this point, you’re ready for anything.    ‧₊˚✩彡.       “I don’t think Gojo-Senpai and Y/N-Senpai are just in an intense healing session.” breathed Yuuji with a terrified look in his eyes, clutching his arm that was bloodied up, his head leaned close to the firmly shut door.        Nobara looked like she was about to faint, looking at the door as if it was a several feet tall monstrosity of a curse.        “What? What are they doing in there?” Megumi knelt down to where Yuuji was, pushing his ear against the door, and immediately his eyes shot open, a traumatized look in his fearful eyes.        “What the fuck.” 

[douxie-casperan]

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

~

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart 

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget��everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

[blackbat05]

Night talks and Dim Sum

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first time trying to write a one-shot/fic on tumblr. I have an existing wattpad account where I have some stories published! It’s mainly DC (young justice) combined with hunger games so if you are a fan, do check out @Runnerpottermore! Anyways, I have no idea why I suddenly decided to write a fic after so long - maybe because I wasn’t going through the best of days and also watched the movie recently? I just love the whole cast in general and Mr Simu Liu just killed his role - so yeah! Before I ramble on, I hope you enjoy my fic that I came up with!

Genre: Fluff, PG13, platonic friendship that can maybe turn into something more?

Warning: None? Just maybe broken Mandarin and sweaty people?

Extra Note: Please be kind to me!🥺

‘Bye.’

I take a deep breath, moving the cursor to close the window. Another day was done. Leaning back against the office chair, I stare up into the celling before closing my eyes, taking in the conversation a few hours ago.

‘It’s difficult to change what has already been so ingrained into our childhood. But what you can do is ask - what is the part of yourself that you want to keep?’

Rubbing my temples from the simple yet complex question, I decided that it was time to hit the road and get some fresh air. It was 6pm, Shangqi and Katy were probably still at the hotel.

As dreadful as running sounded to many people, this was one of the days where I could just zone out and mull over the day. The feeling of my shoes pounding into the pavement, body slowly being covered by a sheet of sweat… it felt good. Turning into the last corner of the run, a light tap on my shoulder jolted me out of my little world.

‘Woah is just me!’ My sudden stop had almost resulted me barreling right into Shangqi’s equally sweaty frame. He gives me his signature boyish grin only to earn a smack on his shoulder.

‘干嘛!’ (gànmá) [‘What are you doing!’]

‘吓死我了!’ (xià sǐ wǒ le!) [‘You scared me!’] I retorted back, removing my headphones. ‘What are you doing here, I thought you still had work?’

‘We did, but our shift ended early so I thought I’ll get in a quick run.’

‘10km is quick?’ I look at his phone that was calculating the distance, brows raised. ‘You’re a beast.’

‘Ha ha, very funny. Enough about me, what’s got you out today? I thought you were taking a break?’ We walked side by side, towards the direction of a renowned dim sum stall. ‘Yeah…’ I dragged my words for a while, hesitating to continue. ‘Just needed to think some things through.’ Shangqi nods. That’s the thing I liked about him. He never forced me to tell him things that I didn’t want to. He would wait quietly until I was ready.

‘I don’t know if I’m even going in the right direction. I thought I was doing things right - getting the grades, making sure I understood what was being taught at school… I was so sure that I could help people if I put my mind to it. But these feelings of not being able to do more… I don’t even know my future as a social worker anymore.’ I bit my lips, kicking a stray pebble.

‘Hold up!’ Shangqi steps in front of me, gripping the sides of my shoulders. ‘What did you say?’ He asks me in mock disbelief. ‘I said I’m not a good-‘

‘Nope! The conversation before this has been void! Because the (Y/N) I know is an amazing person and social worker who helps these kids to become the better version of themselves.’ He waves towards the many young Asian-American kids running around merrily in the playground as if to make his statement. A small smile formed on my lips watching Shangqi’s exaggerated movements to the disapproval of an elderly man with wispy white hair. He seemed to have noticed the looks he was getting as he dropped his hands to the sides in embarrassment.

‘Look, my point is that not many people can do what you do. Putting people before yourself, how many people would do that in this world?’

I throw him a skeptical glance. ‘You’re doing it. You’re a literal superhero that stopped a mythical creature from destroying our world. Not that it hasn’t happened.’ Shangqi snorts, ‘Sure. But hear me out. Who were the people that worked day and night to restore some order when the snap happened? Who made sure that these young kids weren’t afraid and reassured them that everything was going to be alright.’

He did have a point. Five years ago, the whole world was thrown into chaos. If I could forget something, it would be the chaos at the children and youth center on the exact day of the snap. Kids as young as four, crying uncontrollably for their missing parents. The older children who put on brave faces for their younger siblings but they too couldn’t make sense of the situation. The remaining social workers scrambling to attend to every need, every child. I was one of them. The sleepless nights, the constant worries - the social services were already overloaded, anymore pressure and the whole industry would collapse. I wanted to believe him but the doubts were becoming stronger by the minute.

Shangqi carefully stares at me as if analyzing my micro expression. ‘I know what I’m saying won’t change anything instantly. But what I do know is that we all have these moments of doubt, even me. I can’t offer you professional advice, but just like how Katy, my aunt and my mom were there for me when I needed them the most in Ta Lo, I’ll be here if you want to talk.’

‘You’re a good friend you know that right.’ My heart felt much lighter compared to the day.

‘Better than Katy?’

‘Don’t push it.’ I joked, eliciting laughter from both of us. Before we knew it, we arrived at the dim sum stall. As always, it was bustling with hungry customers. ‘Come on! Katy’s got a seat for us already, I’m starving!’ He opened the door for an young couple pushing a stroller.

‘Wait!’ Shangqi looks at me curiously. ‘I know we’re both sweaty but I think the situation calls for one.’ I gave a huge hug, ‘Thank you, that meant a lot to me.’

The sudden bear hug definitely threw the man off, but he to was glad for the heart to heart conversation. For more reasons than one.

‘Alright then! Who’s up for some char siew bao! I’m gonna inhale them - deserved it!’ I loudly declared my war against the dim sum, walking towards Katy who was enthusiastically waving at us.

Little did I know, there was a lot going on in Shangqi’s mind too.

A/N: Wew! That was long! If you’ve read it up till here, thank you for reading it! This idea really just popped out at the last minute so I’m not sure if it’s to y’all taste. Please do forgive me for my inaccurate translation - I am Chinese but like Katy my Mandarin is super rusty. Also whichever countries you come from, please give your social workers more recognition. They deserve it for a long time coming! Do give a comment or like if you wish! Just here to write and try and give simple joy to people who are such fans of Shangqi and the MCU in general.

[ewwwwwwwwwu]

Checking Vitals, Suggesting Smiles

Authors Note: This fic was solely born because I'm ready for fall, and my friend thought that picnics are romantic. Disclaimer, I'm not really a writer, but I am a day-dreamer and sometimes I need a place to jot it down. Hopefully others will enjoy it? Please feed my constant need for validation and tell me if you liked it or couldn't stand it, and don't forget to drink some hot tea today.

Summary: It's hard to imagine you can be so still and muffled with a man so deafening. Yet here, you manage.

Word Count: 772

You gently run your fingers through his hair, your fingers getting caught at moments, but you always carefully maneuver them to untangle the small knots. The breeze kicks up and your hair whips softly across your face. The autumn breeze is cool enough for his body heat to seep under your clothes and settle into your skin without making you uncomfortable. Leaves are fluttering down the clearing you two are sat at every now and then, and it’s quiet, except for the rustling of the trees when the wind disturbs their tops. His chest rises and falls, his t-shirt stretching across his chest every time. The bags you used to carry the food rustles.

He’s dozing, and you know that he needs the sleep, so your content to let his head rest in your lap while your mind wanders with the wind. He has one leg bent, and the other splayed, and you let out a huff of amusement that disappears under the wind. How he fell asleep like that is beyond you. You can tell it’s not a very deep sleep. It smells like someone far away is burning leaves.

The blanket under you is soft, but not quite as soft as his hair. Your hands move to frame his face, only ghosting across, so you don’t disturb him. His eyelashes are splayed across his cheeks. His eyes gently roll under his lids. You’re thumb slides over his bottom lip. You smile, because if he was awake, he’d make a face and groan on about being too gentle. He can be loud and brash and much, but he’s good at being still as well. It’s a good look on him. You feel a rush of heat at knowing you’re able to simply exist with him in this moment.

A yawn rips through you. A street lamp flickers on. You feel the oncoming dread of getting up, packing the trash left over from your picnic. You could probably stay here for hours, in this light, at this hour, in this position. You look down again. You’re struck with the peace of the moment all over again. You think you love him.

“I think I love you.” Only a soft murmur, and the wind steals it anyway.

“Mm?” He barely moves, the sound coming from deep within him, only a slight rise of his chest. If you hadn’t been looking at him, you could have mistaken the noise for something else. You bite your lip.

“I think it’s late.” One brown eye slits open, heavy lidded and unimpressed.

“So?” His lips are barely moving. If someone else had been intruding on this moment, they’d only hear the timber of your voices but no context.

“We should go, it gets chilly at night.” You catch a strand of long dark hair as it dances over his face. He stretches, languid, cat-like.

“It’s gonna be a bitch carrying me and the rest of this shit, huh?” His low voice filters through the rustling, his eyes closed again, and he fails to suppress the grin breaking across his face. He always aims to get a rise. You lightly flick his temple.

“James.” The word is more of a hum, enunciation seeming to cease existence here in this clearing.

“We’ll watch the stars, or sum’ shit.” The sentence tapered off at the end, a heavy sigh stealing the volume. His body twisted, his chest to the blanket now, arms moving to sufficiently trap you, encircling you, his body radiating heat. “You can rub my back.” You hear with a familiar coyness. You snort, the sound louder than intended, startling you. You both take a minute to settle in the silence again. Your hand roves across his back, you bend slightly to play with the hem of shirt, gently grazing a sliver of skin exposed with your nails. His breath hitches, and he turns the rest of the breath into a deep sigh. Contented. You can’t see between the trees anymore, darkness melting through the branches.

Time resumes it’s pause for the two of you. You feel the vibration of his voice from his chest against your body, and you can feel his lips moving on your stomach, hot breath striking against the cooling air.

“Mm?” It’s a tiny noise, questioning but the effort isn’t all there. His head rises slightly. He repeats the words, and you feel liquid heat encase your heart as you hear words you thought were lost when you spoke them the first time.

The sound of the wind against leaves picks up again, effectively silencing any noise from your lips sliding across his.

[vickyvicarious]

Leverage Redemption Pros/Cons List

Okay! Now that I've finally finished watching the first half of Leverage: Redemption, I thought I'd kind of sum up my overall impression. Sort of a pro/con list, except a little more just loosely structured rambles on each bullet point rather than a simple list.

This got way out of hand from what I expected so I'm going to put it all under a cut. If you want the actual bulletpoint list, here it is:

PROS

References

Continuity

Nate

Representation

Themes

New Characters

General Vibe

CONS

'Maker and Fixer'

Episode Twins

Sophie's Stagefright

Thiefsome

You might notice the pros list is longer, and that's because I do love the show! I really like most of what it does, and my gripes are fewer in number and mostly smaller in size. But they do exist and I felt like talking about them as well as the stuff I loved.

PROS

References

There is clearly so much love and respect for the original show here. Quite aside from the general situation, there's a lot of references to individual episodes or character traits from the first show. For example, Parker's comments on disliking clowns, liking puppets, disliking horses, stabbing vs. tasing people. The tasing was an ongoing thing in the original, the stabbing happened once (S1) but was referenced later in the original show, the clown thing only had a few mentions scattered across the entire original show. The puppet thing was mentioned once in S5, and the horses thing in particular was only brought up in S1 once. But they didn't miss the chance to put the nod to it in there; in fact with those alone we see a good mix of common/ongoing jokes and smaller details.

We got "dammit Hardison" and "it's a very distinctive..." but also Eliot and Parker arguing about him catering a mob wedding, and Eliot being delighted by lemon as a secret ingredient in a dish in that same episode (another reference to the mob episode). Hardison and Eliot banter about "plan M", an ongoing joke starting from the very first episode of the original show. We see Sophie bring up Hardison's accent in the Ice Job, Parker also makes reference to an early episode when describing "backlash effect" to Breanna, in an episode that also references her brother slightly if you look for it.

Heck, the last episode of these first eight makes a big deal out of nearly reproducing the iconic opening lines of the original show with Fake Nate's "we provide... an advantage." And I mean, all the "let's go steal a ___" with Harry being confused about how to use them.

Some of the lines are more obviously references to the original show, but they strike a decent balance with smaller or unspoken stuff as well, and also mix in some references between the team to events we the audience have never seen. If someone was coming into this show for the first time, they wouldn't get all the easter egg joy but most of the references would stand on their own as dialogue anyway. In general, I think they struck a good balance of restating needed context for new viewers while still having enough standalone good lines and more-fun-if-you-get-it callbacks.

Continuity

Similar to the last point, but slightly different. The characters' development from the original to now is shown so well. I'm not going to go on about this too long, but the writers clearly didn't want to let the original characters stagnate during the offscreen years. There was a lot of real thought put into how they would change or not.

It's really written well. We can see just how cohesive a team Parker, Hardison, and Eliot became. We get a sense of how they've spent their time, and there's plenty of evidence that they remained incredibly close with Sophie and Nate until this past year. The way everyone defers to Parker is different from the original show and clearly demonstrates how she's been well established as the leader for years now - they show this well even as Parker is stepping back to let Sophie take point in these episodes. Eventually that is actually called out by Sophie in the eighth episode, so we might see more mastermind Parker in the back half of the show, maybe. But even with her leading, it's clear how collaborative the team has become, with everyone bouncing ideas off one another and adding their input freely. Sometimes they even get so caught up they leave the newbies completely in the dust. But for the most part we get a good sense of how the Parker/Hardison/Eliot team worked with her having final say on plans but the others discussing everything together. A little bit more collaborative than it was with Nate at the helm.

Meanwhile Sophie has built a home and is deeply attached to it. She and Nate really did retire, at least for the most part, and she was living her happy ending until he died. She's out of practice but still as skilled as ever, and we're shown how much her grief has changed her and how concerned the others are for her.

There's a lot of emphasis on how they all look after one another and the found family is clearer than ever. Sophie even calls Hardison "his father's son" - clearly referring to Nate.

Nate

Speaking of Nate! They handled his loss so, so well. His story was the most complete at the end of the last show, and just from a narrative point, losing him makes the most sense of all the characters. But the way he dies and his impact on the show and the characters continues. It's very respectful to who he was - who he truly was.

Nate was someone they all loved, but he was a deeply flawed individual. Sophie talks about how he burned too hot, but at least he burned - possibly implying to me that his drinking was related to his death. In any case, there's no mystery to it. We don't know how he died but that's not what's most important about his death. This isn't a quest for revenge or anything... it's just a study of grief and trying to heal.

Back to who he really was real quick - the show doesn't eulogize him as better than he was. They're honest about him. From the first episode's toast they raise in his memory, to the final episode where Sophie and Eliot are deeply confused by Fake Nate singing his praises, the team knows who he was. They don't erase his flaws... but at the same time he was so clearly theirs. He was family, he was the man they trusted and loved and followed into incredibly dangerous situations, and whose loss they all still feel deeply.

That said, the show doesn't harp on this point. They reference him, but they don't overwhelm new viewers with a constant barrage of Nate talk. It always serves a purpose, primarily for Sophie's storyline of moving through her grief. Anyway, @robinasnyder said all of this way better than me here, so go read that as well.

Representation

Or should I say, Jewish Hardison, Autistic Parker, Queer Breanna!

Granted, Hardison's religion isn't quite explicitly stated to be Jewish so much as he mentions that his "Nana runs a multi-denominational household", but nonetheless. He gets the shows big thesis statement moment, he gets a beautiful speech about redemption that is the emotional cornerstone of that episode and probably Harry's entire arc throughout the show. And while I'm not Jewish myself, most of what I've seen from Jewish fans is saying that Hardison's words here were excellent representation of their beliefs. (@featherquillpen does a great job in that meta of contextualizing this with his depiction in the original show as well.)

Autistic Parker, however, is shown pretty dang blatantly. She already was very much coded as autistic in the original show, but the reboot has if anything gone further. She sees a child psychologist because she likes using puppets to represent emotions, she stims, she uses cue cards and pre-written scripts for social interactions, there's mention of possible texture sensitivity and her clothes are generally more loose and comfortable. She's gotten better at performing empathy and understanding how people typically work, but it's specifically described as something she learned how to do and she views her brain as being different from ones that work that way (same link). Again, not autistic myself but from what I've seen autistic fans find a lot to relate to in her portrayal. And best of all, this well-rounded and respectful depiction does not show any of these qualities as a lack on her part. There's no more of those kinda ableist comments or "what's wrong with you" jokes that were in the original show. Parker is the way she is, and that allows her to do things differently. She's loved for who she is, and any effort made to fit in is more just to know how so that she can use it to her advantage when she wants to on the job - for her convenience, not others' comfort.

Speaking of loved for who you are.... okay, again, queer Breanna isn't confirmed onscreen yet, and I don't count Word of God as true canon. But I can definitely believe we're building there. Breanna dresses in a very GNC way, and just her dialogue and, I dunno, vibes seem very queer to me. She has a beautiful speech in the Card Game Job about not belonging or being accepted and specifically mentions "the way they love" as one of those things that made her feel like she didn't belong. And that scene is given so much weight and respect. (Not to mention other hints throughout the episode about how much finding her own space meant to her.) Also, the whole theme of feeling rejected and the key for her to begin really flourishing is acceptance for who she is, not any desire for her to be anyone else, is made into another big moment. Yeah, textually that moment is about her feeling like she has to fill Hardison's shoes and worrying about her past, but the themes are there, man.

Themes

I talked a bit about this yesterday, so I'm mostly just going to link to that post, but... this series so far is doing a really good job in my opinion of giving people arcs and having some good themes. Namely the redemption one, from Hardison's speech (which I'm gonna talk a little more about in the next point), and this overall theme of growing up and looking to the future (from above the linked post).

New Characters

Harry and Breanna are fantastic characters. I was kind of worried about Harry being a replacement Nate, but... he really isn't. Sure, he's the older white guy who has an angsty past but it's in a very different way and his personality and relationships with the rest of the crew are correspondingly different. I think the dynamic of a very friendly, cheerful, kind, but still bad guy (as @soundsfaebutokay points out) is a great one to show, and he's got a really cool arc I think of learning to be a better person, and truly understanding Hardison's point about redemption being a process not a goal. His role on the team also has some interesting applications and drawbacks, as @allegorymetaphor talked about. I've kind of grown to think that the show is gradually building up to an eventual Sophie/Harry romance a ways down the line, and I'm actually here for it. Regardless, his relationships with everyone are really interesting.

As for Breanna, first of all and most importantly I love her. Secondly, I think she's got a really interesting story. She's a link to Hardison's past, and provides a really interesting perspective for us as someone younger who has grown up a) looking up to Leverage and b) in a bleaker and more hopeless world. Breanna's not an optimist, and she's not someone who was self-sufficient and unconcerned with the rest of the world at the start, like everyone else. She believes that the world sucks and she wants it to be better, but she doesn't know how to make that happen. She outright says she's desperate and that's why she's working with Leverage. At the same time, Breanna is pretty down on herself and wants to prove herself but gets easily shaken by mistakes or being scolded, which is a stark contrast to Hardison's general self-confidence. There are several times when she starts to have an idea then hesitates to share it, or expects her emotions to be dismissed, or gets really disheartened when she's corrected or rejected, or dwells on her mistakes, or when she is accepted or praised she usually takes a surprised beat and is shy about it (she almost always looks down and away from the person, and her smile is often small or startled). Breanna looks up to the team so much (Parker especially, then probably Eliot) and she wants to prove herself. It's going to be so good to see her grow.

General Vibe

A brief note, but it seems a fitting one to end on. The show keeps it's overall tone and feeling from the original show. The fun, the competency porn, the bad guys and clever plans and happy endings. It's got differences for sure, but the characters are recognizably themselves and the show as a whole is recognizably still Leverage. For the most part they just got the feeling right, and it's really nice.

CONS (no, not that kind)

'Maker and Fixer'

So when I started writing this meta earlier today, I was actually a lot more annoyed by the lack of unique 'maker' skills being shown by Breanna. Basically the only time she tries to use a drone, the very thing she introduced herself as being good at, it breaks instantly. I was concerned about her being relegated into just doing what Hardison did, instead of bringing her own stuff to the table. But the seventh episode eased some of those fears, and the meta I just wrote for someone else asking about Breanna's 'maker' skills as shown this season made me realize there's more nuance than that. I'd still like to have seen more of that from her, but for now the fact that we don't see a lot of 'maker' from her so far seems more like a character decision based in Breanna's insecurities.

Harry definitely gets more 'inside man' usage. His knowledge as a 'fixer' comes in handy several times. Nonetheless, I'm really curious if there are any bigger ways to use it, aside from him just adding in some exposition/insight from time to time. I'm not even entirely sure how much more they can pull from this premise in terms of relevant skills, but I hope there's more and I'd like to see it. Maybe a con built more around him playing a longer role playing his old self, like they tried in the Tower Job? Maybe it's more a matter of him needed distance from that part of his past, being unable to face it without lashing out - in that case it could be a good character growth moment possibly for him to succeed in being Scummy Lawyer again down the line? I dunno.

Episode Twins

This was something small that kind of bothered me a little earlier in the season. It's kind of the negative side to the references, I guess? And I'm not even sure how much it annoys me really, but I just kinda noticed and felt sort of weird about it.

Rollin' on the River has a lot of references/callbacks to the The Wedding Job.

The Tower Job has a lot of references/callbacks to The White Rabbit Job.

The Paranormal Hacktivity Job has a lot of references/callbacks to the Future Job.

I guess I was getting a little concerned that there would be a 'match this episode' situation where almost every new Redemption episode is very reminiscent of an old one. I love the callbacks, but I don't want to see a lack of creativity in this new show, and this worried me for a minute. Especially when it was combined with all three of those episodes dealing with housing issues of some kind. Now, that's a huge concern for a lot of people, and each episode has its own take on a different problem within that huge umbrella, but it still got me worried about a lack of variety in topics/cases.

The rest of the episodes failing to line up so neatly in my head with older episodes helped a lot to ease this one, though. Still, this is my complaining section so I figured I'd express my concerns as they were at the time. Even if I no longer really worry about it much.

Sophie's Stagefright

Yeah, I know this is just a small moment in a single episode, but it annoyed me! Eliot made a bit of a face at Sophie going onstage, but I thought it was just him being annoyed at the general situation. However, they started out with her being awful up there until she realized the poem was relevant to the con - at which point her reading got so much better.

This felt like a complete betrayal of Sophie's beautiful moment at the end of the original show where she got over her trouble with regular acting and played Lady Macbeth beautifully in front of a full theater of audience members. This was part of the con, but only in the sense that it gave her an alibi/place to hide, and I always interpreted it as her genuinely getting over her stagefright problems. It felt like such a beautiful place to end her arc for that show, especially after all her time spent directing.

Now, her difficulty onstage in the Card Game Job was brief and at the very beginning of being up on stage. @rinahale suggested to me that maybe it was a deliberate tactic to draw the guy's attention, and the later skill was simply her shifting focus to make the sonnet easier for Breanna to listen to and interpret, but he seemed more enraptured when she was doing well than otherwise in my opinion and it just doesn't quite sit well with me. My other theory was that maybe she just hasn't been up on stage in a long time, and much like she complaining about being rusty at grifting before the team pushed her into trying, she got nervous for a moment at the very beginning. The problem there is that I think she'd definitely still get involved in theater even when she and Nate were retired. I guess she could've quit after he died, and a year might be long enough to make her doubt herself again, but... still.

I just resent that they even left it ambiguous at all. Sophie's skills should be solid on stage at this point in my opinion.

Thiefsome

...And now we come to my main complaint. This is, by far, the biggest issue I have with the show.

I feel like I should put a disclaimer here that I had my doubts from the beginning about the thiefsome becoming canon onscreen. I thought the famous "the OT3 is safe" tweet could easily just mean that they are all still alive and well, or all still working together, without giving us confirmation of a romantic relationship. Despite this, the general fandom expectations/hopes really got to me, especially with the whole "lock/pick/key" thing. I tried to temper my expectations again when the character descriptions came out and only mentioned Hardison loving Parker, not Eliot, but I still got my hopes up.

The thing is, I was disappointed pretty quickly.

The very first episode told me that in all likelihood we would never see Hardison and Parker and Eliot together in a romantic sense. Oh, there was so much coding. So much hinting. So much in the way of conversations that were about Parker/Hardison's relationship but then Eliot kept getting brought into them. They were portrayed as a unit of three.

But then there was this.

I love all of those scenes of Parker and Hardison being intimate and loving and comfortable with one another and their relationship. I really do. But it didn't escape my notice that there's nothing of the sort with Eliot. If they wanted a canon onscreen thiefsome, it would by far make the most sense to just have it established from the start. But there aren't any scenes where Eliot shares the same kind of physical closeness with either of them like they do each other. Parker and Hardison kiss; he doesn't kiss anyone. They have several clearly romantic conversations when alone; he gets important conversations with both but the sense of it being romantic isn't there.

Establishing Eliot as part of the relationship after Hardison is gone just... doesn't make any sense. It would be more likely to confuse new viewers, to make them wonder if Parker is cheating on Hardison with Eliot, or if they have a Y shaped relationship rather that a triangle. It would be so much clumsier.

Still, up until the Double-Edged-Sword Job I believed the writers might keep it at this level of 'plausible hinting but not quite saying'. There's a lot of great stuff with all of them, and I never expecting making out or whatever anyway; a cheek-kiss was about the height of my hopes to be honest. I mostly just hoped for outright confirmation and, failing that, I was happy enough to have the many hints and implications.

But then Marshal Maria Shipp came along. And I don't really have anything against her as a character - in fact, I think she has interesting story potential and will definitely come back. But the episode framed her fight with Eliot as a sexyfight TM, much like his fight with Mikel back in the day. And then his flirting with her rode the line a little of "he's playing her for the con" and "he's genuinely flirting." The scene where he tells her his real name is particularly iffy, but actually was the one that convinced me he was playing her. Because he seems to be watching her really closely, and to be very concerned about her figuring out who he really is. I am very aware though that I'm doing a lot of work to interpret it the way I want. On surface appearance, Eliot's just flirting with an attractive woman, like he did on the last show. And that's probably the intention, too.

But the real nail in the coffin for me was when Sophie compared herself and Nate to Eliot and Maria. That was a genuine scene, not the continuation of the teasing from before. And Sophie is the one whose insight into people is always, always trustworthy. She is family to the thiefsome. For this to make any sense, either Eliot/Parker/Hardison isn't a thing, or they are and Sophie doesn't know - and I can't imagine why in the hell she wouldn't know.

Any argument to make them still canon leaves me unsatisfied. If she knows and they haven't admitted it to her - why wouldn't they, after all this time? Why would she not have picked up on it even without an outright announcement? Some people suggested they wouldn't admit it because they thought Nate would be weird about it, but that doesn't seem any more in character to me than the other possibilities. In fact, the only option that doesn't go against my understanding of these people and their observational abilities/the close relationship they share.... is that the thiefsome is not a thing.

And furthermore, the implication of this conversation - especially the way it ended, with Eliot stomping off looking embarrassed while Sophie smiled knowingly - is that Eliot will get into another relationship onscreen. Maybe not a full-blown romantic relationship. But the Maria Shipp tension is going to be resolved somehow, and at this point I'm half-expecting a hook-up simply because of Sophie's reaction and how much I trust her judgement of such things. Even if she's letting her grief cloud her usual perceptiveness... it feels iffy.

It just kinda feels like I wasn't even allowed to keep my "interpret these hints/maybe they are" thiefsome that I expected after the first couple episodes convinced me we wouldn't get outright confirmation. (I mean, I will anyway, and I love the hints and allusions regardless.) And while I'm definitely not the kind of fan who is dependent on canon for my ships, and still enjoy all their interactions/will keep right on headcanoning them all in a relationship, it's just.... a bummer.

Feels like a real cop-out. Like the hints of Breanna being queer are enough to meet their quota and they won't try anything 'risky' like a poly relationship. I dunno. It's annoying.

.

That's the end of the list! Again, overall I love the new show a lot and have few complaints.

[king-paimon]

HnK Chapter 95 Thoughts: The cruelest chapter of all times

AKA: The chapter everyone hated

AKA: No happy ending in sight

AKA: Haruko Ichikawa is a monster

AKA: I called it again (and I wish I was wrong)

AKA: Talk about kicking someone while they’re down

Ms. Haruko Ichikawa. You’ve truly done it. You truly are a cruel, sadistic, trolling monster. You leave us with this chapter? This chapter that truly shows us that despite every hardship they faced, Phos gets nothing. This chapter shows that Phos was destined to be in constant misery, and to rub that in with literally everyone else is free and happy? And to add more salt to the wound, you’re leaving us on an hiatus for who knows how long??

This is without a doubt the cruelest chapter to leave us on and this is probably one of the cruelest things a mangaka can ever do for a series as intense as this. I wish the previous chapter was the last one for the end of this year because at least with that one, it would have given us some sense of something.

Man. I’m both horrified and amazed by you, Ms. Ichikawa. I’m not even being sarcastic, I’m truly in awe.

Ugh.

As you can see, I have several things I have to say about this and... Just wow. This chapter. In these posts, I try my best to try and write my thoughts with the most rational mindset but... I don’t know how well I’ll be able to do that with this chapter. What a way to end this horrible year. 

But with this chapter’s ending and the implication for what is yet to come... this marks as the story’s descend to it’s bitter end, and I now wish I didn’t make that prediction last month.

I know I said in another post that I was going to write this in a few days, but I changed my mind. I’m getting this out now while my thoughts are still fresh in my mind. Please don’t mind the writing errors, I’m very tired, I’m writing this at 3 in the morning and I need to sleep. I promise I will come back to this and tidy it up later.

Anyways, here we go:

Haruko Ichikawa: Manipulator of emotions

Ms. Ichikawa really toyed with us with this chapter. So many things happened in such a short amount of time and I’m trying to process it. Also, doesn’t feel like too much happened in this chapter? Especially in comparison to the previous chapters, where everything was stretched out, to then have this chapter have so many things happen all at once. This chapter, in many ways, feels very rushed... and this style of story telling has me very worried about what’ll happen from here on out. I’ll talk more about what I mean by this later, but for now, let’s focus on the story of this chapter:

So... Antarctictite is back now. Adamant is back, too. So are most of destroyed gems, both the ones we knew and the ones we never got meet. And they are all now Lunarians... Hm.

I don’t like this or anything in this chapter for many reasons. In fact, I’ll go as far to say that I don’t like where the whole story is headed for these same reasons: 

The first reason: The emotional turmoil from the previous chapters

For the past 10 or so chapters, I’d been anticipating the destruction of the gems and Adamant. I was one of the people who didn’t like the idea of it happening, though I knew they kind of deserve it. And I remember how sad I was seeing Adamant turn to nothing but dust and seeing how everything was affecting Phos after the bloodlust ceased.

But it all led up to...this. In the very next chapter, after watching those heart wrenching scenes of the gems being broken down and Adamant’s last moments with Phos...we see him and the other gems being brought back like it was nothing.  And on top of that, they are totally happy Lunarians now. Yeah. Okay.

So it feels like the emotional tole that I felt for these characters I didn’t want to see get destroyed...meant nothing. Not going to lie: I kind of wish you all stayed destroyed.

And you know what? It’s kind of funny. In my Chapter 94 post, I said I was sad that we didn’t get to see Adamant and Aechmea interact and I didn’t think there would be a way now that Adamant is dust. Well. I was wrong. It happened. I got the interaction that wanted. Wasn’t worth it. 

So to sum up this first reason: The emotional turmoil that I personally experienced watching the characters I like get destroyed... meant nothing in the end.

Now I don’t know how to feel about these characters. It sucks. I even had a post that I was starting write about on a certain controversial character that I couldn’t bring myself to hate, despite everything, but I’m now debating whether or not I should still write it. I think I will, but there will be a lot of edits.

The second reason: Negation of personal growth

One of the things that has been brought up many times by fans is about how the gems dealt with problems. Instead of trying to address the problem and talk to try to fix it, they chose to ignore it and sweep it under the rug, no matter how upsetting it is to the characters involved. All of the gems, both Earth and Moon, constantly choose to not confront the issue and stay blissfully ignorant.

And now that they’re accepting to be Lunarians, it feels like they’re just running away again. Instead of confronting the Lunarians or having the gems properly talking with each other about how things got to the point where they had to once fight each other, they are like: Oh, we can be Lunarians so we don’t have to fight with them anymore? Awesome. Let’s do it.

Everyone is once again going with the flow, just sweeping the glaring issues that they all carried for so long, and are just accepting the new reality that they are in with no problems whatsoever. No addressing of anything means no character growth for all of them. No one grew from this experience. No one learned that ignoring the problems doesn’t solve them. They aren’t solving their previous issues, they are masking it under the belief that becoming Lunarian automatically solves all of their problems. 

No talking between Diamond or Bort. No talking with Yellow about their traumas or any of the other gems in the same boat. And no talking about how everything that happened lead to Phos doing what they did. It’s even more disappointing how Antarcticite was the only one who showed any concern about Phos or even thought to bring them up in the first place.

Edit: Also to add, the other problem here is how the are conscious choosing to remove your identity. They are not only choosing to loose their identity as gems, but they are fine loosing their memories as well. Not to mention how Cairngorm is once again being given a new identity to go by, from Aechmea, and is totally fine with it. That scene was small but once again, the fact that they are fine pretty much erasing what made them who they are is...unnerving. 

So pretty much to sum up this: Once again, everything meant nothing in the end. 

Speaking of Phos...

The third reason: Phos’s miserable fate

Phos, once again, got the short end of the stick. After everything that they’ve done, from trying to save everyone but themselves, to doing what was once seen as cruel for the sake of everyone to finally do something for themselves to go back to wanting to save the others after the bloodlust was gone... to get this ending for themselves.

But wow, what a cruel twist: Phos’s old goal was fulfilled. Thanks to them, the gems don’t have to live in fear of being destroyed or taken or anything. Thanks to Phos, everyone is free. Everyone now is going to be happy for the rest of their existance...at the cost of Phos’s expense.  

Phos lost everything. 

Their body. 

Their sanity. 

Their identity. 

Everything.

What do they get in return?

10,000 years of nothing but their own miserable existence and dark, depressing thoughts.

In the end, everything that Phos experienced not only sent them crashing down to rock bottom: it sent him to the chore of the earth, back out the other side, then back into the earth, in an endless cycle of just constant misery. 

That’s a theme in buddhism, if that’s what I’m recalling right from @rinboz​‘s posts: a cycle of continuous misery. That is clearly embodied here through Phos and Phos will continue to suffer the pain of existing while everyone else got what they wanted in the end, especially Aechmea. 

Speaking of which, I also genuinely want to know if there’s still fans out there who view Aechmea as a good guy for ‘liberating’ Phos, because as far as I see, thanks to him, Phos is now stuck in an even more miserable form of existence. At least before everything, everyone was miserable together with Phos. Sort of. Still better than what we got with this chapter, in my opinion. (Please do share your thoughts, if you do. I promise, this is not an attack. I’m just interested to hear your thoughts, if you’re willing to share)

But now, there’s no there for Phos. And unlike those other instances where Phos was in a situation and someone somewhat saves them like Adamant and Padparadscha once did before, there’s no one there. So unless there’s some Admirabilis hiding around there or if the Gem/lunarians decide to come to them, which I doubt will happen, there’s no one for Phos. No one is coming to help/save them.

Phos will have to suffer all alone. For 10,000 years. Phos is the last existing gem being now...even though technically, they aren’t really a gem anymore. 

Once again, to sum up why I don’t like this chapter nor how the story has progressed: Phos’s suffering meant nothing to them in the end. That’s the other theme I’m trying to hammer in in this post: Everything meant nothing in the end.

I’ve already seen a few fans react to the chapter and I saw one state that if the Lunarians, including the gems, were to come to Phos to pray for them, the poster hopes Phos tells them to “F* off” And you know what, I hope so too. But this revelation has me fearing for what’s going to happen the series, or more specifically, how and when it’ll officially end.

No true happy ending in sight and not exactly for the reasons you think

As always, it’s hard to predict how Ms. Ichikawa is going to end this series. Us fans made many predictions and a good number of them came true, but it’s the ending that eludes us. Some hope for a happy ending for Phos, while many, including myself, predict that it’ll be anything but happy. And now, with this chapter...I think it’s set in stone now.

Last month, in response to someone asking me how I think the series might end, I made a few small predictions. Some for a good ending, a bittersweet ending, and a bad ending.... 

...and it looks like that first sad ending is where the series is heading after all:

Everyone is gone/moved on and Phos stays behind as a lonely, immortal being.

Even though this small prediction was correct, how it’s all playing out was not exactly how I’d envisioned. It’s worse. And what’s making me even more worried is that based off of where the story is headed, my gut feelings are saying that the series ending is near. And it won’t be to anyone’s satisfaction.

Whenever I get invested in a series, other than worrying about how the creators will handle their characters and story, one of my biggest worries is about how the creators handle their ending. I’m truly afraid about what Ms. Ichikawa is planning for this series because I can’t help but fear it’s not going to end well. It’s not the worry that the series will have a sad/bittersweet ending, even though that concern is still there though I’ve accepted the likelihood, but rather I’m worried that the next chapter or so will be the abrupt end to this series. This concern is because of how rushed this chapter felt and I can’t help but worry that Ms. Ichikawa is now rushing to the end of the story. And to be honest, the addition fact that Ms. Ichikawa is going on hiatus is not helping these uneasy feelings. 

I hate being the pessimistic one but what if this happens? What if Ms. Ichikawa decides to end the series here or in the next chapter? What if the next chapter is literally another time skip, with all of the characters that I once cared about just NOT progressing, and Phos continuously being stuck in this immortal and we’re expected to accept this as the ending. Because other than Phos, everyone’s story, from what it looks like, is at their end now. I really hope that doesn’t happen. I’ve seen great series end so terribly too often and I’ve loved this story for so long that I hope that doesn’t happen with this series too. I love this series a lot and it’s characters, even the ones who I don’t think I like as much as I did after this chapter. I hope the series will end nicely... but I don’t think it will.

Back to predictions on how the story will progress: I made a post a few days ago about how I hope the forgotten plot elements will come into play and the fact that Aechmea isn’t omnipresent. More than ever, part of me hopes those elements will come back and have a positive impact for Phos’s story, especially the omnipresent part. But again, I don’t think I’ll hope too much for it because looking at Ms. Ichikawa’s past works... I don’t think they will, at least not in the way I’m hoping for.

Maybe I’m too used to Western (American/European) stories, where the protagonist somehow beats the odds and wins in the end. This isn’t always the case for Eastern stories, especially stories from Japan. They usually end bittersweet and I don’t think Houseki no Kuni will be the exception. I know I’ve said this saying many times before and with each passing chapter, these words become more and more true:

Phos’s suffering is never going to end. 

And unless someone does something to change the course of the story, which I don’t think will ever happen now, Phos is never going to have a happy ending. 

If I could wish for anything, it’d be that this story ends on a satisfying note. I know, I know. It’s foolish to still hope for that it’ll happen, given everything I’ve seen from Ms. Ichikawa before...But still. I don’t want to lose all of the hope that I have left for this series. Even though that hope is nearly diminished, it’s still there.

So please, Ms. Ichikawa. Please give us a satisfying ending for Phos. Please let them go.  If anyone deserves a dignifying conclusion to their story, it’s them.  Let them rest. End their suffering. Please give them the ending they deserve after everything they went through.

You’ll likely won’t though.  

Because this is Phos.

And to be Phos is to constantly suffer.

Well, regardless, I truly hope you’re hiatus goes well, Ms. Ichikawa. Even though you are a cruel troll, your work is still amazing and I applaud you for your story telling and your love to mess with us. I hope you enjoy your time away and when you return, I hope that you’ll continue to give us amazing content and eventually give Phos the ending they deserve. Please. That’s all I want.

I hope you all a nice holiday season, too, or at least try to.

Happy Holidays. 

Can’t wait for 2020 to end.

[agentnico]

No Time To Die (2021) Review

I swear this movie came out 2 years ago?... Okay, yes, I agree, that was a cheap gag, but look, the constant postponement of this film's release is in itself a joke! Finally though, it is here.

Plot: James Bond is enjoying a tranquil life in Jamaica after leaving active service. However, his peace is short-lived as his old CIA friend, Felix Leiter, shows up and asks for help.

“I’d rather slash my wrists.” Those were the words spoken by actor Daniel Craig in 2015 for a Time Out magazine interview prior to the release of Spectre. Seemingly it felt as if Craig was done with his signature role as famed British spy James Bond, however be as it may have been, MGM managed to sway away Craig’s suicidal thoughts and cut him a cheque with a sum he simply couldn’t refuse and have him return for a proper final outing. Hollywood business at it’s finest, ladies and gentlemen! But the question is posed, was there a need for another Craig/Bond film? For the previous instalment Spectre was such a let-down that it left a sour taste, or at least I think it did. Honestly, I don’t really remember much of what happened in Spectre, it was such a shoulder-shrugging forgettable feature. The answer however is a positive one, for No Time To Die ends up being worth the wait. All this wait. Though I would’ve found it super amusing if this film came out and turned out to be an absolute stinker, as then everyone would just be sat there in the theatre wondering why the hell we’ve been waiting for this movie this entire time. But nope, it’s a good one.

No Time To Die really feels like a culmination of Daniel Craig’s time as James Bond. And with that merit this movie doesn’t actually feel like a James Bond film. Yes, it has the one-liners and the action set pieces and the typical tropes of a Bond film, however the focus here is very much more on Daniel Craig’s interpretation of the character, and how he managed to turn a weapon into a human. For James Bond at the end of the day was always a killing machine. License to kill and all that jazz was always at the centre of what made the character, however Craig’s take brought a lot of humanity and reality to what was a stereotype. And it’s shown more than ever in No Time To Die, with Daniel Craig delivering a performance of vast emotional gamut. His Bond experiences moments of general happiness and actual love (real love, not just his typical one-night stands he’s known for) to then fury and sadness. My fiancée jokingly made a remark at the beginning of this movie about how petty James Bond is acting in this movie. And I agreeably chuckled at first, for to be fair he was getting offended easily and taking everything so personally without giving it much thought, however the more the movie progressed, the more I understood why he was this way. It made him feel more human, and actually made me care for him. Additionally, the aforementioned element of love plays a big part in this film, for romance is truly at the heart of this one. Bond turns out to be a real loving sweetheart, and this all culminated in one hell of a finale, one that really surprised me with it’s emotional gut punch. Look, I see this film’s ending really dividing audiences as it’s not something you would typically expect from a James Bond movie, however I absolutely relished it and saw it as a perfect swan song for Daniel Craig.

The movie is long. In fact, it’s very long. In fact, it’s too long. It runs at nearly 3 hours and yes, there is a lot of story crammed into this but honestly there are many chunks that could have been cut down and the film would have benefitted from it. For the movie is very good, but it has chunks that drag which does cause the experience to be slightly diminished, however that being said, this is a very well directed movie. Cary Joji Fukunaga (who’s previous work I don’t know much of though I have seen his Netflix limited series Maniac with Jonah Hill and Emma Stone which I do recommend highly) exhibits some strong directing here, balancing moments of real tension using unsettling imagery with moments of levity and good character chemistry. Yes, he brings class and the right amount of epicness to the action sequences, but it was actually the quieter moments that I feel he really excelled at. The opening sequence is especially disturbing, with the way Fukunaga displays this lonely isolated house in the middle of snowy nowhere, and we see a mysterious figure creep towards it wearing a mask so creepy it reminded me of that freaky monkey mask from the horror thriller I See You. A shot from behind a sliding glass door I found especially unnerving. 

Performances across the board are all great. Daniel Craig I’ve already sing praise for, however others are to be mentioned also. Rami Malek manages to take a fairly lacklustre villain and present him in proper vile fashion. He’s truly unpleasant and horrible in this role, and I truly despised him which is what made him perfect for the role. That being said the actual character was weak. There wasn’t much meat to him so to speak. Typical Bond bad guy who wanted to see the world burn. Lea Seydoux returns as Bond’s love interest Madeleine and her chemistry with Craig is wonderful and I really enjoyed seeing her character develop more since the last movie. Returning from Spectre too is the villainous Blofeld played by Christoph Waltz, and though he isn’t in the movie much, I weirdly enjoyed him more this time around. In Spectre is was really forgettable and the script didn’t know what to do with him, whilst here is serves a specific purpose and we also get to enjoy a great scene with him in prison having a battle of wits with Bond. Real good stuff. We also have a couple of new Bond girls, with Lashana Lynch taking on the 007 mantle, and it was nice seeing a very different kind of spy in her. Her and Bond bicker quite a bit, however natural they become buddies and they are the better for it. And Lynch can be easily added to the list of powerful badass women on-screen. Ana de Armas also appears in what is a little Knives Out reunion, and unfortunately she’s only in the movie for one sequence, but it’s actually a great sequence with her putting a new spin on the Bond girl stereotype, bringing charm, swagger and humour and riffing off good banter with Craig. Shame we only see so little of her. The likes of Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw and Ralph Fiennes also return, and even Jeffrey Wright takes a break from pondering What If? scenarios to make a little comeback. 

No Time To Die definitely stands next to the better Daniel Craig Bond films alongside Casino Royale and Skyfall, and it’s a true culmination of all of them, whilst still managing to ignore and forget the existence of Quantum of Solace, which is good, because Quantum of Solace sucks and I can’t believe I even managed to bring it up again!! Regardless, what a way to send off Daniel Craig on a proper high, and really refreshing to actually witness a Bond movie that features feelings and emotions. In fact, it’s pure Valentine’s Day essential viewing, so mark your calendars for next year, as you now know what film you have to rewatch on February 14th 2021! 

Overall score: 8/10

[honoredbastard]

ෆ self indulgent and entilted

characters — bonten!rindou haitani  + *yakuro nanami (oc) .

content and warnings   — mentions of drugs ( yo sanzu ), clubbing, stalker mention, mention(s) of drugging, yelling, angst(?), swearing, and so on.

note  — sorry for the dark content hhhhh, it came with the idea of ackerman being a yakuza that hated bonten and wanted yakuro gone. it may actually be apart of the fic i’m outlining..... these men hold my heart and WILL NOT LET GO OF IT. also they just like dive into my brain 24/7. help i had a fit over what looked best for three hours- at this point i’mma probably make a lil sum’ for sanzu. i love this man and i can’t stop having him appear in my stories that involve bonten. like this guy is 24/7 in the back of my mind.

                                         *Yakuro Nanami.                                            he/they/bun! 

                  Now playing ayanami  — by satin

rindou woke up first to yakuro wearing his bunny ears and a bunny pajama set that he seemed to just slip on before marching into bed. it was cute, but there was still smudges of makeup on his face and the dark circles of terrible inconsistent sleep. rindou sighed, brushing away blonde parts of hair that yakuro was chewing on. 

“yakuro.” rindou lightly pushed yakuro’s shoulder, trying to wake the boy in his semi bunny work attire. “rindou? rindou....” yakuro groaned, his head searched for rindou’s lap or hand that he could lean into. just exist near, to feel his skin and be aware of his warmth, that he was alive and not dead. that he stayed the whole night. “morning doll.” rindou smiled quietly, brushing his fingers over the boy’s hair. 

there was a knock on the door, “come in” as if that was a full offer to entangle himself with the couple he busted through the door and made a running start to jump onto the couple. “HI!” “i don’t do the touching, i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny.”

yakuro stated as if he was at work. it was grilled into his brain and always had to repeat it infront of new clients. working at a bunny suit club was not it, almost rolling over onto sanzu. “bad work day?” “bad work day.” rindou confirmed sanzu’s suspicions with three simple  words. “yaku..” “no.” “yakuuu.” sanzu scooted in between the two, poking yakuro’s cheeks aggressively. he seemed sober, thank god. 

rindou shrugged the mans presence off and trudged to the bathroom to wash and whatnot. “you have another shift, ran told me to wake you up. “that’s not my problem. tell my boss to go fuck himself with a dildo filled with nails.” sanzu’s eyes widened, that was aggressive. although at the same time sorta funny?

“he said he’d cut off your shift times and cut back on how much money you make plus tips.” sanzu repeated what ran had informed him of, with a quite frustrated appearance.  “THAT FUCKER WILL NOT!” raising up from his laying position, yakuro ran into the hallway stumbling here and there from improper pace. 

“i’d love to see him try i swear if he even tries reducing my pay i’ll quit the whole fucking job how about that? i never liked this bullshit bunny shit anyways, it’s annoying when the customers try to touch and then you get stalkers.” yaku was mumbling to hell and back from his bosses call, waving to ran who nodded. making himself a bento before heading off on a small mission.

yaku threw open the washroom door and started searching for his bunny suit attire. the club’s theme was rainbow today so he washed a deep red suit with a black add-on tail and clip on black ears (which were foldable too. yakuro always folds one ear.) when yakuro made it back to his room, sanzu was gone and rindou was crouching near the bottom drawer.

“whatcha lookin for?” yakuro asked curiously, sitting beside the man who made a mess beside him “looking for a red suit now, i’m trying to match with you subtly.” cute- that was the only thinking yaku could think of this man who is a part of a criminal organization/gang. who woulda thought?

“i think you might be better with either a red with black tie or a deeper red of a suit.” yakuro suggested, getting up from his sitting position, joints cracking. “or black would go well, after all i’m only wearing red heel, a red body suit, and red makeup. the rest is black!” yakuro called out to rindou who was still crouched as he exited the room. taking into account his suggestions, he went with a more black with red accents attire.

           ާlocation, bunny palace! ෆ             late night, 11pm.

“here in bunny palace we have many bunnies to suit your taste! male, female, and even those who do not define themselves! run and created by the ackermans.” bunny palace is under the hands of those with the ackerman name. mikasa, the current owner, is softer on us than many. although the music blaring is not something you can get used to.

“hello! i’m moonie! it’s so good to meet you, are you new here?” yakuro was tired, it was about 4 more hours until he shift ended and he was already hungry again. salad’s really don’t fill you up especially when you wolf them down. his feet ached and cried out each time he took another step, he wanted to lay down and use rindou as his personal body pillow.... rindou! ‘i hope he’s okay.’ he thought, placing himself beside the very important client his boss claimed. “oh i am! it’s nice too meet you moonie.”

“it’s so good to meet you too! we have a few rules here that our bunnies tell each new client: i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny. please keep touching to a minimal. do not force your bunny drinks or food. respect your bunny. is that doable?” yakuro asked with big puppy eyes, a big smile, and high pitched voice. “of course!” the customer happily said, hand already on his thigh.

i am SO uncomfortable was all that yaku could think about, his eyes flicking between the customer and each place his gross hands laid upon. squeezing every-so often like it was a pleasuring act for yaku. before he removed the man’s hand, he restrained himself. drawing a large breath before responding to the customer. “i’m so sorry sir! shall i get you something to drink?” yaku pouted, “if you’d like, moonie!” i’m saved.

yakuro smiled and stood up, “why of course! i’ll be right back!” like a breath of relief, he rushed to the staff room. he waved to some girls, “not on stage today moonie?” one asked, a baby stripper new to the bunny palace club. “yeah! boss was all: ‘act cutesy, be close, allow touching this once. there are really important customers here today.’ like thanks for threatening my paycheck and then saying that!”

“oh my, that’s rough babe. ackerman is always like that, it’s like she has a stick up her ass.” one of the older strippers that had been with yakuro since he started chimed in, “you’re right!” yaku chuckled, leaning closer into his vanity mirror to adjust his lipstick and have a chance to message rindou. 

40 missed messages. “i’m so fucked.” “why’s that babe?” “i may have forgot to message rindou telling him ackerman added hours onto my shift.” the room grew tense, “that’s awful? read his messages.” sei suggested, “might cool him off if he’s angry.

“alright!” yaku sighed with a smile, opening the messages. to his surprise, rindou wasn’t angry but instead worried that a client had gotten too touchy and triggered yakuro. after all, ran did inform rindou about the bits and pieces that sanzu did not tell yaku. “whew, i’m good! i’m safe. he’s just worried....” sei and bab took a loud sigh and began laughing. “BUT I’M FUCKED.” “really? that’s great! now go out! your client must be waiting.” 

yup the girls took it that way. “i will! don’t worry don’t worry. i just hope sanzu doesn’t buy the whole club.” “he won’t now go!” sei pushed out yaku who glanced over at the client who finished the previous bottle. his nose was red and was slightly swaying back and forth.

walking up to the bar, yakuro ran into polaris. “polar!” “moonie.” “can you get something for my client? he seems to be a lightweight.” “sure, i’m sure he wouldn’t mind beer.” polar sat down the cup he was wiping back and forth to keep busy.

“the bar isn’t very busy huh?” “oh no, it’s just we got our best girls today dancing and the waitresses and working ten times harder. it works out for both of them and neither of them have to fight each other about unfair pay. tomorrow you’ll be our best so good luck.” polar smiled earnestly to add to the words of encouragement, sliding over the foaming beer over the black marbled counter. 

“thanks! i’ll need it.” turning with the drink in hand, yaku noticed the man’s disgruntled face. he looked as if the whole world was going to blow up and he was watching the countdown. ‘act cutesy, act cutesy, act cutesy.’ it was a constant mantra in his head before he sat down and opened his mouth.

“what could be wrong sir?” yaku felt like rolling his eyes into oblivion, he could care less. “oh it’s just something wrong with the gang.” “oh my, a yakuza?” boring, yaku fake gasped handing over the bear to the angered man. “yeah!” he said pridefully with a chuckle, gulping the drink down and slamming it down. “something about bonten this and that and one of our men died.”

now that’s interesting. yaku felt like walking out to just go see sanzu, it felt like everything was reminding yakuro of him. hell even the purple lights were. but alas he was stuck eyeing the entrance while the man babbled on and on about this whole yakuza shin-dig he was in. he decided to slip off his shoes because the waitresses’ assured the man that they would handle getting drinks.

it felt like hours, drink after drink the world became more hazy. yakuro grew a high tolerance because of his job but he seemed to be losing himself while the client seemed more than sober. “you.. slipped somethin, huh?” the client beside him flinched, clenching onto his bag. “w-what? are you sure you don’t have a low tolerance m-mr. moonie?” the man stammered, through gritted teeth yaku managed to huff out a ‘whatever’.

“miss. ackerman set you up? thought so, the bitch never liked me because i have a bonten member for a partner. guess i’m finally leaving this hellhole. send her my best regards, yeah?” he asked with a agitated tone. his words were laced with threats, raising slowly. “mr. moonie?” “i’m leaving, i want to leave. i have to go see rindou.” he dug the acrylic nails that were done just recently into his thigh. fuck the shoes. 

whatever was in the drink didn’t seem strong but it had yakuro in and out of conscience. the man who was once his client seemed nowhere to be found, leaving a stumbling yaku to himself. sei noticed this and dropped her waiters plate, running over to the bunny who was just about to fall. “MOONIE!” 

          ާlocation, the bonten loft.             early morning, 3am.

blue eyes fluttered open, fighting the urge to close once more. “they’re awake! rindou, they’re all good!” a familiar voice echoed throughout yakuro’s head. his body felt numb, in an attempt to speak he noticed his voice was gone. every one of his senses felt like they were being drowned under water. his eyesight was the only thing that was significantly normal.

though his contacts seemed to be taken off, leaving the blue and purple hues of yaku’s true eye colour roaming free. rindou’s footsteps were heavy and had a quick pace, the vibrations went through the bed. “yaku?” his usual docile purple eyes were filled with worry and anger mixed together, forever burning until yakuro got better.

all the man managed to do was a weak smile, his eyes blinked slowly while he stared at rindou. the two conversed, rindou’s agitation growing as his jaw clenched harder with every muffled word sanzu spoke. “i am very upset sanzu, yakuro was drugged. AGAIN!” “we can’t do anything but sit it out! we don’t even know who it was. rindou you need to calm down.” sanzu too was frustrated beyong belief.

the whole loft was filled with tension that was denser than a brick wall. everyone considered yakuro a part of bonten after two years. he even got a bonten tattoo per mikey’s request. it lays on his right shoulder which he covers up during his job with makeup despite his hatred, it was the only condition ackerman gave him before he could work at bunny palace. ackerman and bonten hated each other, seeing a bonten tattoo at the ackermans would start a war. 

“he’s quitting that job and working at our club. this is the last time i’ll EVER see him like this again.” this wasn’t the first time rindou raised his voice when he was angered by the way yakuro looked in this condition. unable to move, speak, only look plainly at the wall with a weak smile here and there.

it tore him apart from the inside out each time, it did every member living in the loft. finally after whatever happened between those two. sanzu left, rindou left as well but returned with water and began to cuddle the numb and quiet yakuro.

[perse-persecution]

more dream smp skin symbolism

I can go on and on about this, and so I will! I’ve already talked about how Tommy, Sam, Dream, and Quackity have skins that highlight who they are, especially in the prison. But it’s not just them that have this, it’s almost everyone in the SMP!

Some characters have stayed fully human throughout the SMP, never gaining wings or scars or anything that was permanent, like Tommy or Tubbo, or even Niki, really. There are others too! (Tubbo really was just hurt emotionally, he stayed human even though he made bad choices, and never really went too far[I’m counting Ghostbur as a human even though he was see-through because it’s Ghostbur. His skin is a ghost.]) And some characters have inhuman traits like wings (this is only Phil but y’know) or horns, or they just don’t have any human attributes on them except for their faces.

And some just have glasses that hide their faces, or roses that change color. Or a mask!

Niki- You might call me out, saying that ‘Niki wanted to murder Tommy with Jack and has no inhuman traits, so your idea is flawed!’ but Niki got over it. Niki is baking again, Jack burned his house down. Niki may not be Tommy, but she’s never gained horns or covered her face.

Jack- Jack has his headset and that comes with glasses, and that hides his eyes. That’s what makes him inhuman to me, and we never see his eyes. He’s always hidden from everyone, even slightly, and he’s not human. His response to Tommy’s death is great and very human, celebrating and then realizing it really wasn’t what he wanted-but then again, he still clawed his way back from hell through pure spite and anger. That is not human.

Eret- Eret has glasses as well, hiding their face, and that plays well into the ‘never meant to be’ bit, but might not work in the long run, but it still does! Eret is still lost in the past, really, trying to make up for it. He’s built a museum and wrote books upon books and apologized so many times, but the glasses are her way of keeping the betrayal with them, always reminding them of the fact. They aren’t human, they’re still trying to make up for battles long gone through keeping the past from being long-gone, and such they are the past.

Hannah- Hannah definitely isn’t human, the roses on her arms changing colors and being attached to her being the main reasons why, though there is still some symbolism even with that. With the Egg, Hannah tried to fix the egg with roses, taking stacks and stacks with her. She tried to give them to it, and was trapped in a hole. The symbolism here is that Hannah uses nature to fix her problems, and fixes the nature that’s wrong (fixing the server!!) and adds to it in ways that pleases her (all the red roses). She tries to fix everything with them, and when they all turn against her she goes with them into the Egg’s control.

Badboyhalo- The devil skin is a bit literal, considering the events of the Egg, but it still works before that too! Bad’s always been the ‘devil’ to Tommy and maybe Quackity I guess, shouting at them when they curse and never playing into some bits. But when the Egg takes control, the red accents on his skin turn white, and that shows that he feels like he’s doing the right thing, that it’s all to help Skeppy, but the devil skin shows that’s it’s not, and he’s the real devil here.

Skeppy- Speaking of Skeppy, he’s always been just a diamond with a derpy face, and that sums up everything that Skeppy did before the Egg perfectly. He’s bright and pretty sharp, in some ways, but but still hilarious and comedic to a fault. Diamond with a derpy face. But then the egg came along, and one, changed his skin from blue to red, and two, got rid of the highlights that made the diamond itself pop. There’s much, much more red on him that any of the server members, Ant, Ponk, and Punz just getting red eyes, and Bad having none at all, the red on him turning white. It makes sense for Skeppy, the one with the most red, to be the most under the Egg’s control, and for Bad, who has no red, to be angry at Skeppy, later, for spending so much time with it. But the highlight removal made Skeppy look just like the Egg. Made him pretty much just fade into it, become one with it. The derpy face is still there, though, symbolizing Bad’s hope for the blue Skeppy to come back, though the rest of Skeppy seems to symbolize the opposite.

Technoblade- Techno has always been an anarchist in royals garb, and throughout everything on the server it shows that he has one goal (anarchy) and he will do everything to get it, even be used as a tool and ‘just as the blade’ (the Red Banquet) (also being in royals garb). He’s inhuman because though he has had character development, from mocking Quackity at his execution setup even though it was, like, his execution setup, to complimenting Sam on the prison, even though he knew it was a trap. Even though he claims to be closed off, he’s become such great friends with Ranboo and cares too much about Carl and his wolves than he says he does. He calls Dream a sentimentalist, but even though he knew he would be getting out of the prison, he still gave hope to Dream by means of the toilet. That shows another part of his inhuman-ness. He’s a pig. Pigs are friendly, sensitive, and intelligent, according to Google, and this fits Techno well. He tries to give hope to Dream, was friends with Tommy, is friends with Phil, Ranboo, and Niki, and that goes into the next bit. Sensitive. Technoblade is very sensitive to being used just as the blade, and it goes vice versa as well. He was genuinely touched when the Syndicate through him a birthday party and Ranboo gave him the new axe to replace his last one. He’s also very intelligent, using a Totem to get out of death and collecting mass amounts of withers ‘just for decoration...for now’.

Ranboo- Ranboo is pretty easy, like c’mon. Enderwalk and Ranboo, the white side and the black side. Easy. BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE. The white side is more commonly as the friendly side (even though enderwalk is just Ranboo with different motivations) and yet the white side has a red eye, a color that literally gets people riled up. It shows that even when Ranboo is not in Enderwalk, he’s not happy-go-lucky. There’s something dangerous with him, and Wilbur picked up on this! He didn’t want to talk to Ranboo, comparing him to ‘the weird neighbor kid’ who ‘had something in his basement’ and was ‘going to put a spatula right through my skull!’. There’s something off about Ranboo even when he’s not Enderwalking, and that’s shown by his red eye and what people like to refer to as tear scars on that side of his face (even though the enderman side would be the one burned by it) But speaking of Enderwalk, the black side has a green eye, Tubbo’s color, and the color that is used as friendship a lot. It shows that, for Ranboo, Enderwalk isn’t some evil being, he isn’t plotting to kill people, he might be meeting with Dream, but so was Techno! And he’s not inherently evil. And Wilbur adores Dream! And Ranboo stated that he wasn’t inherently evil. Enderwalk is just Ranboo with different motivations. He was Enderwalking through the whole Disc War finale, holding his fourth book, but made no move to help Dream-but he made no move to help Tommy and Tubbo. (Enderchest was also in Dream’s possession vault, so Ranboo obviously wasn’t fully trustworthy to Dream) He stared up at Dream as he rose to go to prison, but that was it. And Enderwalk Ranboo was also at the Banquet! He was holding an axe at some point (maybe when the lava came down, I can’t remember) but he never interfered. He was just up on the balcony. Ranboo wouldn’t interfere either, he’d be to scared too, he’s a people pleaser. Techno, Quackity, and Purpled aren’t. Enderwalk isn’t Ranboo in what he does, as Ranboo doesn’t really remember it, but they are the same in their reasonings and how and when they would do something.

Phil- Phil had wings in the first moments when he joined the server, and then protected Wilbur with them and so they were damaged. Phil had a very warped idea of what had gone on before he came through Wilburs lies, and I feel his inhuman-ness spans from that, and the fact the he kept that warped idea and went too far with it. He thought that Wilbur didn’t want L’manburg to exist, because he thought that Wilbur won the election, and so even after he was dead, and after the whole Butcher Army, Phil’s instinct (as well as Techno’s) was to just blow it up, get rid of it, because that was what his son wanted and it would send a message to the people. He said himself, to Jack, that he started blowing up countries when he was forced to kill his own son, but he could have stepped away there, because Wilbur really wasn’t the constant in the situation. Wilbur hadn’t chosen to blow up the country because he didn’t like it anymore, he was going to blow it up because Schlatt ruined it for him, and that Phil didn’t understand. That’s why he’s inhuman, since he chose to kill Wilbur, he wasn’t forced. Phil’s gone against peer pressure and orders before when he saw that they were wrong, and that was also by a relative, Fundy. He loopholed his way out of house arrest, he could have jumped away from Wilbur, or just put him in stone so he wouldn’t die. He’s inhuman because he made choices that were because of events that didn’t exist, because he was living in an alternate world, really.

Wilbur- Wilbur doesn’t have inhuman features. A clear face, no scars, and a beanie. His jacket and morals have rotted in the dark, but he’s still pretty human, though his opinions on Dream and L’manburg change every second. The white streak in his hair is supposed to represent stress, I think, and well, it’s Wilbur. He made a fancy revolutionary outfit and never washed it once, because he was too devoted to L’manburg to let go of it, or anything connected to it, for a single second. Then came Pogtopia, where he ditched everything in favor of clothes that blended in with the cave walls. He insulted the revolutionary outfit, and kept the trench coat until he died. Then, Revivebur had the bandage across his arm because he ran to the train too fast, showing how desperate Wilbur was to get out from death. He’s changed so much, and his changes are real, unlike Dream’s, as Dream has kept the same skin, but Wilbur hasn’t. He’s changed physically, and has gotten more and more torn outfits every time.

Ponk- He has a face mask that hides everything but his eyes, and I feel that shows his way of making sure you never know if he’s joking about something or not. He joked about how much time Sam spent with him, even though Sam hated the egg, and still tried to keep a keycard even after Sam was going to chop of his arm (and did so) for them. He has a chaotic nature to everyone, trying to prank Foolish right now and wearing red contacts only so the Eggpire would leave him alone. He made a Road Trip joke as his toast at the Banquet, and it was totally in character! His mouth being hidden makes it so that he can be joking and you’ll never see it coming.

Schlatt- The-the guy has horns. He’s a goat. Loud, (the EMPEROR of the GREAT NATION) cross eyed, (Schlatt is drunk for his introduction and his death, he is totally cross eyed). I’ve also seen people put him down as a ram, and that reckless ‘they want me to get them president, I’ll be my OWN president!’ and then tearing down the walls, executing Wilbur and Tommy, things that were so surprising and came out of nowhere they just about-they jus-they just rammed into us head on! He’s inhuman because he wants to be powerful (the BIg Man Gym) and wants to use the people around him to show his power, and is so reliant on them that he has no power at all.

Fundy- He’s a fox, and ha been compared as a ‘backbiter’ and ‘foxheart’ many times, and while those are viable ways to go, other parts on his skin, earlier, show some other things. In L’manburg, Fundy was the only person who had a different outfit from the others (at that time) and didn’t get any position in L’manburg at the end of the war, just being called Wilbur’s ‘little champion’. He had a crayon suit, and wasn’t respected by Wilbur at all, and when Schlatt came along and finally seemed to recognize him as someone who was valuable, Fundy shed the revolutionary garb quick, burning and building and leaving Niki quick as well. He might not be constantly switching his skin, like Wilbur, but after L’maburg he never was on aside for long enough to get a uniform other than L’manburg, his regular skin, and the aprons for the Butcher Army. He’s a fox that switches boat, and that makes him inhuman because everyone else is firmly on a side, against sides as a whole, or the thing everyone hates and is on his own side (Which is Dream).

Karl- Karl is very human, as he has a funky sweater and a normal human skin. But that skin changes when he gets back from time travelling, and when he is in the Tales. He’s like a chameleon, his skin fitting the environment in the Tales and the Inbetween, but the important bit is that when he gets back to the present he’s a very bright, multicolored blob. In the Inbetween he has an all white skin, in the Other Side it’s all black, and in the Masquerade specifically he kept to blues and purples, I think, as those were the colors his mask was. Him being a chameleon in the Tales also fits well with how he just fits right into the story, like an added fisherman, or a cameraman, or just another guest-the only ones he doesn’t fit in with are the ones that are closely tied with the real present. The Haunted mansion had Connor and Glatt in it, and Karl really just interrupted their fun. In The City That Went Mad, Karl was the narrator, and The City That Went Mad has been mentioned SO many times, Quackity being a descended from Helga and Ponk being descended from Jack the potato farmer. In the present, Karl stayed with Schlatt through the Pogtopia era after being the judge of the debate, and I have no idea why other than because he didn’t know what to do.

Purpled- Purpled is pretty much implied to be an alien, but for all skin measures he looks perfectly human, ignoring that everything he wears, and his eye color, is purple. I like Purpled, and the fact that he switched sides the same way Punz did, and used almost the same words Punz did, but he’s still so much different and more human? In a way? Than Punz, in how he reacts to being called a hero by Foolish, or joining Pogtopia the second he was going to be killed, since Manburg didn’t line up to his ideals anyways. Purpled isn’t the hero, he’s really just a background character for most of the lore, coming up a couple of times, but he’s not really too important, and he and Quackity know this, Quackity used it against him to try and get him to join Las Nevadas! He tries his best to be a hero and always falls short, not being able to save Foolish, having to join Las Nevadas, and that’s what makes him inhuman, because he’s trying. He tries his best to be the good guy, unlike Tommy, really, right now. Tommy knew breaking into the prison to kill Dream wasn’t the right thing to do, he said it himself! Tommy said he didn’t want to be a hero in response to Techno, but he’s still the protagonist. Purpled is trying, and we’re starting now to see that in full, and see how inhuman he really is because it’s not paying off.

Punz- Punz is like Purpled, until he’s not. He was hired to Manburg to fight for Schlatt and he did! He did fight for Schlatt, and had no qualms with it. He betrayed Dream to help Tommy and Tubbo, and then joined the Egg. He’s not the most human character, despite looking it, and he’s quite inhuman in the fact that he’s never been the hero. He was bribed by Tommy to help give him pearls and blaze rods in the first disc skirmish, and now was bribed to save them from Dream one last time! Punz wouldn’t do that if Tommy hadn’t given him money, he would have stayed neutral, and I feel that shows his inhuman-ness.

I’ll be doing Puffy, Connor, Calahan (maybe), Alyssa (maybe), Antfrost, and others as well as some more analyses soon!

[sea-and-storm]

BETTER WITH AGE : Ghoa Mankhad

PROMPT : Describe your muse at ages 20, 40, and 60!

Tagged by @afreesworn, so blame her for this rambly bit of quasi-prose because when I saw this meme, it decided to live stubbornly rent-free in my head until I finally sat down and wrote it out. But it's late and I'm rusty, so excuse the inevitable clunky writing and weird stream-of-consciousness rambling. x:

Also I haven't been on tumblr in a hot minute and I'm probably gonna go on a meme spree here soon so I'll spare people from a tagfest since I have no idea who has or hasn't done these. :T

So uh, if you see this and wanna do it, just.. consider yourself tagged!

-- AGE 20 . . .

At age twenty, Ghoa is only just gaining her first true taste of freedom. It hasn't been long since she left the Steppe behind, fleeing a life of violence and oppression at the mercy of others' cruel whims.

Kugane is still very much a foreign land to her, equal parts terrifying and intoxicating. It is a city whose lifeblood is the trading of koban, unlike the bartering and trading -- and the taking by force -- that is prevalent in the lands she calls -- no, called her home.

Even more awkward to her is the earning of coin; but for that problem, there is an unexpected solution. Her name is Ino, a hyuran native of the land Ghoa now finds herself in. The only things that come more easily to her than her usual cocksure grins are the coins that she seems to have a knack for getting her fingers on. She readily takes the wayward Xaela under her wing, and together they begin to dream of schemes to turn their lives around. Gods know they both deserve it after the difficulties they've both already lived through.

At twenty, Ghoa doesn't yet know that this relationship born of mutual survival will soon grow into something more. Friendship. Companionship. Love. She's even less aware that the same relationship that pulled her up from the darkness of the past will end in yet more tragedy. She's blissfully unaware of the scars that this loss will one day leave behind, an invisible guilt that would linger with her for many, many long years to come no matter how hard she tries to outrun it.

As for the Storm? There have certainly been times in her twenty years that she has felt the itch of electricity arc across her palms, aching to be released. Yet she has kept it pushed deep down, kept tightly under control. Her upbringing has led her to fear the power born to her. Rather than continue to train to control it, she opts instead to push it down, push it away. It rumbles like darkened clouds on a distant horizon, the occasional faint but harmless rumble of thunder carried upon the winds. That rumble begs for her to let it loose, to let the rains and winds and lightning break free around her. Instead, she turns a blind eye, pretending not to hear its pleading as she looks towards what she hopes to be a sunny future.

-- AGE 40 . . .

At age forty, Ghoa has gone through a gamut of changes that she never could have anticipated.

She has loved and lost, and she has blamed herself for it. She's roamed far and wide, half searching for a place that she might call 'home' and half attempting -- without success -- to outrun the ghosts of the past. Her life has turned towards the dark, towards the selling of illicit potions and dangerous poisons and the ever-profitable trade of secrets. She has become a creature of hedonism and selfishness, closing her heart towards those around her and putting her own needs and whims above all else. She has finally learned what it seems her earlier years had perhaps been trying to teach her all along: that the joys of the world belong only to those strong enough and clever enough to climb upon the backs of others to grasp them. And she has vowed never to let another climb upon her in their own pursuit ever again.

It would have been easy for her to continue down this path, to continue down it until nigh impossible to turn back. Yet within these twenty years, chance has once again placed someone in her path that would radically change her life's trajectory. Rather, she met several someones. She calls them friend, lover, kin.. but most of all, at age forty, she calls them family. Blood or not, she has come to share a deep and profound bond with each of them.

Through them and their various trials and tribulations, she has come to see that she was wrong. Joy is not the sole providence of those who seize it by force of will. It belongs to those whose backs have been tred upon, yet still rise up from the darkness -- often with one another's help -- time and again. It belongs to those who refuse to give into despair and anger and bitterness, no matter how tempting. It belongs to those who are strong enough to allow themselves to be vulnerable and feel, rather than closing themselves off to everything and everyone around them.

At age forty, Ghoa can say without hesitancy or reservation that she is surrounded by those she cares for and whom care for her in turn. In coming to love them, she's come to love herself. Most of all, she has learned that her 'home' is not a physical place. It exists at a table full of drinks and raucous laughter. It exists in a conversation first awkward and quickly turned warm from a man who is at once unknown and yet achingly familiar to her. It exists wrapped in strong arms, even as tears well in her eyes and her clutching fingers are reluctant to ever let go.

Home is where she can be with those she loves, and perhaps that yet undiscovered realization is why Ghoa has been so very restless her entire life.

These past twenty years have yielded to her one more life-altering realization: that she can no sooner deny the Storm within her than she can deny her very self. It runs in her blood, electrifies her soul. Suppressing it is suppressing herself and, after all, had Ghoa not long ago vowed never to allow herself to be suppressed again?

Though the reunion has been long in the making, Ghpa's bond with the Storm feels like catching up with a long lost friend. At times, it is awkward and uncomfortable and even explosive. Others, they are in perfect harmony with one another. Regardless, Ghoa no longer winces at the rumbling skies as they approach, but looks instead with eagerness as the wind and rain begin to whip around her. Her breath hitches in excitement with each flash of lightning and roaring peal of thunder. They're discovering each other all over again after so long apart, and it will take time.. But it is a start that Ghoa has eagerly made.

-- AGE 60 . . .

At age sixty, Ghoa has begun to show the ravages of time. Her hair, once the color of breaking waves, has darkened and faded in vibrancy over the years. Lines have begun to form at her eyes and at the edges of her smile; their initial coming, of course, much to her dismay. Yet for what she has traded in youthful beauty, she's gained in poise. There's a certain air she keeps, a wisdom and a knowing sense that has come from a long life full of the lowest lows and the highest highs, from a life lived well and to its fullest.

She looks back now on the past six decades and sees all the past versions of herself with renewed clarity and understanding. The scared young woman just trying to survive the cruel hand dealt to her. The one who at one turn felt hope and love for the first time, and then just as quickly replaced both with guilt and self-loathing. The woman who convinced herself that she was better off putting herself above all others, caring not for who she hurt in the process. And yet, there is also the woman who found herself caring so much for those around her that she would fling herself into the face of danger to protect them at a moment's notice.

Ghoa looks back on these women now and realizes there was no one single point at which she became herself. She is the sum of all the parts of her life, both bitter and sweet. Even the worst moments of her life, she realizes now, eventually lead to change -- growth -- within herself. Though.. perhaps not in a linear fashion, as Ghoa was ever wont to stumble along the way. But with that realization now comes acceptance, peace, and healing. For the first time, she is able to look back at her years without picking out all the parts she wishes she could change.

Now at sixty, Ghoa has likely lost some of those she cares for along the way, gone but never forgotten nor less loved. Yet as always, the Storm within remains her most constant companion. Gone are the days where she fears its power or it roars out of her grasp unbidden. There is a mutual respect and understanding between them, and with that comes a power she never knew.

Once as a girl, Ghoa watched as Elder Unegen called lightning down from the sky upon herself and walked away not only whole, but embraced by arcing jolts of electricity curling protectively around her until she released them back unto the sky. She doubted back then that she could ever be so powerful. Yet now, Ghoa has not only performed the same feat, but she has done so in front of the next generation of Stormcallers. She will fill them with awe at what is possible, and she will guide them with a gentle but firm hand as any Elder Stormcaller aught now that she has come full circle and returned to the very tribe in which her long story began.

[introvertguide]

Duck Soup (1933); AFI #60

The next film on the AFI top 100 is a throwback to before the Golden Age of Hollywood when "talkies" were new, Duck Soup (1933). This film was the last attached to a 5 feature contract that the Marx Brothers had with Paramount pictures. It was moderately well received at the time but has since become the most critically acclaimed of the Marx Brothers films. The movie is only 68 minutes and is absolutely packed with gags. It is not, however, packed with a storyline or plot. I want to very briefly go over the summary because that is not what this movie is known for. Let's unnecessarily start with...

SPOILER ALERT? THIS MOVIE HAS NO PLOT. IT IS ALL ABOUT SITE GAGS AND SET PIECES. READ AWAY!!! IT WILL NOT DO ANYTHING TO HURT THE EXPERIENCE!!!

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The film starts off with the wealthy Mrs. Teasdale (Margaret Dumont) insisting that a man that she is sweet on, Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho), be appointed leader of the small, bankrupt country of Freedonia before she will continue to provide much-needed financial aid. Meanwhile, neighboring Sylvania is attempting to annex the country. Sylvanian ambassador Trentino (Louis Calhem) tries to foment a revolution and to woo Mrs. Teasdale, and he tries to dig up dirt on Firefly by sending in spies Chicolini (Chico) and Pinky (Harpo).

After failing to collect useful information against Firefly, Chicolini and Pinky are able to infiltrate the government when Chicolini is appointed Secretary of War after Firefly sees him selling peanuts outside his window. Meanwhile, Firefly's secretary, Bob Roland (Zeppo), suspects Trentino's motives, and he advises Firefly to get rid of Trentino by insulting him. Firefly agrees to the plan, but after a series of personal insults exchanged between Firefly and Trentino, the plan backfires when Firefly slaps Trentino instead of being slapped by him. As a result, the two countries come to the brink of war. Adding to the international friction is the fact that Firefly is also courting Mrs. Teasdale, and, like Trentino, hoping to get his hands on her late husband's wealth.

Trentino learns from his femme fatale spy, Vera Marcal (Raquel Torres), that Freedonia's plans of war are in Mrs. Teasdale's safe and tells her to assist Chicolini and Pinky in stealing them. Chicolini is caught by Firefly and put on trial, during which war is officially declared, and everyone is overcome by war frenzy, breaking into song and dance. Chicolini and Pinky join Firefly and Bob Roland in anarchic battle, resulting in general mayhem.

After a fierce battle, the end of the film finds Trentino caught in a makeshift pillory, with the Brothers pelting him with fruit. Trentino surrenders, but Firefly tells him to wait until they run out of fruit. Mrs. Teasdale begins singing the Freedonia national anthem in her operatic voice and the Brothers begin hurling fruit at her instead.

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There are many exceptionally good and bad aspects of this film. On the good side, there are a couple of amazing set pieces that the Marx Brothers did like no other. The mirror scene in which Groucho and Harpo stand in front of each other and Harpo perfectly mimics his brother's movements was outstanding. Specifically, there is a point where Groucho stands outside the reflection and moves in a ridiculous way past what he thinks is a reflection. The mirroring between the brothers is exceptional. Add in the same dressing gown and cap to the actual resemblance (they are full actual brothers) makes for quite an effect. This mirror gag was first done on film by Charlie Chaplin almost 15 years earlier, but this is likely the most well known and best done example of the bit by real people. It was repeated by Bugs Bunny, Mickey Mouse, The Pink Panther, Tom and Jerry, Scooby-Doo, and the Smurfs. That kind of mirror quality action was only repeatable through animation, apparently.

The constant wardrobe changes during the frenzied war scene have caused full speculative articles to be written. Groucho starts out in a Union officer suit, then appears in a Confederate officer suite, then a British palace guard uniform, and then in what looks to be a boy scout officer suit, and finally a Davy Crockett hat? The deep cynicism and anti-war sentiment of the brothers was blatant. It is summed up by the line "while you're out out there risking life and limb through shot and shell, we'll be in here thinking what a sucker you are." The United States had just gotten out of a war and many militaristic leads felt the need to show off. This lack of care after feeling so dominant following WW1 was the mindset that in part led to the Stock Market crash and the Great Depression. There was turmoil brewing in Europe and many Americans wanted nothing to do with it after seeing so many young boys getting ripped apart by trench warfare and machine gun fire. The brothers were satirizing all of those figures that we use to teach boys to want to fight for their country. They also went after what they believed were the causes of many wars: money and moral indignation between powerful men.

Although the film gives the audience insight into the mindset of much of the population during those extremely turbulent times between wars, it also boasts some of the most unsophisticated humor of a new visual medium. The silly songs do not translate well and sound like something created by a child. With truly clever artists like Frank Zappa, the Dead Kennedys, and national treasure Weird Al Yankovic, the Marx Brother's songs just sound lame to me. I think the same of Groucho's one liners. With comedians like Mitch Hedberg, Paula Poundstone, Steven Wright, and Jimmy Carr, the work of Groucho Marx feels seriously dated and quite cringy.

The real let down for me in this particular film was the fighting between Harpo and the Lemonade salesman. In fact, the character of Pinkie was "The Joker" levels of psychotic. I know he represented the constant undermining of communism. That is fine and makes a good point. Practically speaking, though, he reveled in causing problems for no reason and he was a constant nuisance. I have been around a lot of teachers and they sat that students who act like that are the bane of everyone's existence. It may be witty, but it is not funny. I have seen movies like Borat and Jackass, who are at least very creative in the way they cause problems and mostly harm themselves. I legitimately hate the character of Pinky and find him devoid of any real humor beyond the mirror scene. I also realize that Chicolini is a play on Mussolini, but I didn't really find him funny either. I want to emphasize that these are my opinions and I welcome comments on why Pinkie and Chicolini are hilarious.

There are some things that I do forgive and almost find charming. Directors from the silent film era had to emphasize that their actors over dramatize their lines so that the audience could get even a modicum of tone. This over-the-top dramatic speaking continued with many actors into the era of talking pictures. You can tell that this film was made near the change over because a lot of the actors talk like they are making one continual speech. Just about everyone is projecting for the cheap seats, and I totally appreciate it and smile. I also appreciate that the Marx Brothers absolutely jam pack the film with gags. I don't think many of the gags are funny, but I acknowledge that the movie is 68 minutes of constant jokes and the Marx Brothers made a concerted effort to give their audience the most bang for their buck. Good for them.

So does this movie belong on the AFI top 100? I am actually going to say no. I think that Horse Feathers is a funnier film and has the iconic football scene that got a screen cap on the cover of Time magazine. If the AFI was going to choose a Paramount produced Marx Brothers film, this one seems to me to only be second or third choice of the five. Would I recommend it? Sure. It is definitely dated and the jokes will not make a lot of sense any more, but some of the scenes have become iconic and it is fun to see what has been so heavily referenced in current media. It is a pretty fun movie to sit back and just experience for an hour, so I would give it a shot.

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

[aresnt]

“what do you want to do?”

what do i want to do… there’s so many things to choose from

well, we could paint. there’s so many colors to choose from, and so many more you can create with what you’re already given. a brush so thin capable of making the same shape and shade as a wide brush, yet so very capable of creating shapes and patterns and tones others are not capable of. the smell of fresh paint touching the canvas, chalky in all ways sweet and smooth, slowly sweeping with each stroke into a rough pull of paint thinning off your bristles, leaving nothing less than a visualization of one’s reality - the only proof we exist. our own reality and a little drop of paint.

no, we shouldn’t. our backs will ache, and we’ll fall victim to sorrow of incapability of recreating something we live every day, therefore incapable of proving your existence.

we could go for a walk. oh, how lovely it is outside. a day long yearned for after months of quiet, solemn winter. the sun high in the sky, finally awaken from the long slumber almost as if it had lay deceased after a reoccurring war with the moon, fighting for dominance of earth, the way seagulls fight for a cracker thrown by a young couple at the beach. the warmth of the rays engulfing my body, as if swallowing me whole, filling the voids i had thought would never see light again. a sweet breeze tickling my neck, like being caressed for the first time ever, chills and goosebumps. exhilarating. all to be summed up with the sweet harmony of birds so excited to let the world know they’re awake, and they exist.

ugh, the thought makes my leg ache. they burn and twist, and i do all i can to resist the urge to remove my armor and unsheathe my vulnerability to any deity or dogma i once begged mercy from. my last chance to prove my existence with the evidence of my worth.

let’s just watch a movie. i’m tired, and my brain is moving at a million miles per hour. i’ve spent too much time creating all these scenarios in my head that i’ve run out of fuel, and i’m left with nothing but a constant headache that never seems to slip away. the sound of tv static mixed in with the sound of voices of people constantly criticizing my creation. my safe haven constantly fighting for the sake of its occupiers with nothing but a foam sword left by the last bit of dust my inner child could preserve for the sake of my memory. maybe just another creation, but a creation nonetheless. that exists, right? the people, they exist.. dont they? their criticism just as justified as war plaguing our planet like a mutated virus kicking the bucket out from under the weak and helpless. weak and helpless.

weak and helpless..

is this it? too tired to fight for your proof of existence, at the same time too tired of not existing to not fight? a constant battle. time. reality. existence. evidence. preservation of what little people are left with before they’re ripped out of existence, just to be re-placed in another life, just to fight for the same proof, because there’s nothing else capable of comforting you than that proof. soft, reassuring words have turned meaningless and you begin to mute that out. showering doesn’t make you feel better anymore, and you become nauseated by the idea of preserving your existence any longer, to fall asleep and repeat a cycle that everyone always claims ends, but never claims an end for their own. a never ending cycle of hope. all for a little bit of comfort in our dying world.

shoot.. i’m sorry. i forgot we were trying to think of something to do..

now that i think of it, i’m rather tired. let’s try making plans another day.

-ac

[annerly-san]

Progression - [Chapter 1: Differential]

Primary Character Pairing: Choso x Reader/Female OC Story Summary: Life is never stagnant. It progresses and changes as does the people who live through it. Like a complex differential equation, it twists and curves with its ups and downs with each person having their own unique curve. But for her, the rate at which she progressed in life was zero as she moved linearly despairingly with no end in sight. That was until she met a cursed spirit who set her life back in progression. Chapter Navigation: Next Chapter

The concept of family leaves a foul taste in the mouth.

Obligations to owe and expectations to fulfill are but a few of the countless other burdens that come in conjunction with what a family entails.

And within this world of magic and curses, family is but a burden.

She continued to uphold her well-rehearsed, demure smile despite being worn and absolutely exhausted. Her opponent in front of her casually stood there with a hand on the hip and his head tilted to the side— unfazed and unbothered by her persistent barrage of attacks earlier. The fluff of white hair pulled up and back by the blindfold stood as a testament to remind her that she wasn’t even an opponent to be considered seriously.

He didn’t need to pretend to be tired at all.

“How much longer do you think you can keep pretending to smile like that, Gojo-chan?”

The words were spoken in snide mockery as her opponent bore the same familial name.

“You jest, Gojo-sensei.” The retort was short and spoken without the intent to play along with any insinuations.

Satoru Gojo had not changed one bit since she had first met him.

“She doesn’t look like me at all, does she, Suguru?”

He towered over her at the time. She remembered seeing those strikingly clear, blue eyes— sharp and piercing as they bore into her with a scrutiny unwarranted for a child at the time.

Two hands had reached out and grabbed her at the sides as she was hoisted several feet in the air to be turned back and forth, handled and examined like she was just some doll.

“You should put her down, she’s clearly uncomfortable.” Suguru, as he was referred to, placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder whilst giving a firm glance of disapproval. He shot her a sympathetic smile as she was put down by the pouting teenager.

“How can she be uncomfortable when she’s smiling like that?” He begrudgingly asked his companion before putting two hands up in the air as to showcase his resignation. “But still to think that this little distant cousin of mine is supposed to bring in a new line of techniques for the clan is making me feel already less special~,” Satoru whined in jest as Suguru gave him a playful whack on the back. The white-haired sorcerer had wandered off, leaving her with an upset feeling of unsettled unpleasantness broiling in the pit of her stomach.

Those feelings were temporarily put on the side when his companion crouched down to meet her at eye level.

“Don’t worry about any of that, ok? If you’re ever sick of this guy, you can always come to find me.” Suguru reached down to pet her head in a strangely reassuring way. Comfort and ease had taken over her and her smile had unknowingly slipped off as the soft timbre of his voice lulled her in a sense of warm solace that she had never felt before. “My name is Geto Suguru. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her head felt warm from where he had placed it before, and she had watched him catch up to her cousin’s side with a lopsided smile on her face.

The rate of those thrown punches coming at her were slow; she made them as such. Her innate ability, “Differential”, functioned on the rate of change principles from calculus and mechanics. Mathematicians, engineers, and scientists have long seen and quantified the inner workings of the world through equations. “Differential” allowed her to perceive the differential equation which models the behavior or qualities of an object and apply a “derivative” to it in order to adjust its rate of change. Simple equations such as the rate at which light refracts from the cornea of the eye to see are constant; taking the derivative of it amounts it to zero and thereby allows for someone’s vision to stop working. In this case, her perception of the logarithmic speed (ln(x)) of those punches have been derived to the equation of 1/x and will increasingly become slower and slower as more time passes.

It was a mutated trait from the original Gojo family’s “Limitless” technique. While the original skill operated under the fundamental principle of a limit with techniques operating under the mathematical principles of convergence and divergence in summations and series, hers was more focused upon the rate of change at a “fixed point” existing on a specific plane. From its proofing from calculus her technique took the limit as it approaches zero between two points allowed for the rate of change to be solved for and adjusted.

And so for things that move through time and space, she can easily avoid and counter them.

She dodged the first three punches with ease before countering with a sweep kick to the knees; however, the activation of Infinity didn’t allow for the attack to land as intended.

An upwards kick was evaded as she jumped backwards several steps to place sufficient distance between herself and Satoru.

“Hmmm~. We’re at around twenty minutes now. How are you holding up? Still smiling as always, I see.” She watched intently as Satoru leaned back and stretched out an arm lazily. “Should we call it quits now? You’re lasting longer than our last spar by around five minutes. That’s impressive growth, but you haven’t reached your fullest potential yet.”

She wondered if things would have been less tense or awkward between herself and Satoru had they not hailed from the same lineage. Resigning now to rest would only prove as a setback and insult to what was expected of her in addition to her own self-worth. There would be no resignation. No matter needed to be put forth on her end.

“I-I can continue, Gojo-sensei.” Her smile did not fall from her face despite how tired she was.

She stood up straighter and calmed her breaths.

Her still outer demeanor did not match the thoughts that were racing within her mind.

His Infinity was an issue. She would not be able to do anything about that nor about his convergence and divergence techniques of red and blue simply due to the nature of it resulting in something either undefined or unusable when taking the derivative of an abstract such as infinity, sums, and series.

But perhaps this would work.

The distance between the two of them was approximately fifteen. She needed five to try out her new method.

A breath in.

A breath out.

She dashed in to close the distance.

~~~

“Wow, I can’t believe that you were actually able to do that, Gojo-chan!”

She awakened and opened her eyes to see up to the ceiling of the infirmary. Gojo-sensei was sitting at her bedside with a tilted head, quirky smile, and a book that he must have been reading in the meantime while she was asleep. “Was that a new application of your “Differential”? I can’t believe that you actually rendered my Six Eyes blind for a good minute there.”

Her head hurt as she tried to recall the events of the sparring session before she had blacked out.

Upon closing the gap between them, at the five meter mark, she had Gojo-sensei in range.

Activating Differential, she was able to see the six constants that were governing the rate of perception for Gojo-sensei’s Six Eyes. She drew a shaky breath as she applied “Derivative” six times for each ‘eye’ and watched with elation as her teacher’s face became overcome with a sense of shock and surprise.

She quickly threw a punch aimed at his face in the hopes that the deactivation of his Six Eyes would affect the automatic response of Infinity somewhat.

That hope was dashed as her fist was stuck hovering in front of his nose, unable to proceed further to tangible result.

Leaping back, she stumbled as an sickening nausea overcame her and imbalance struck at her legs. Her vision was blurring and a strange ringing sound overcame her ears as she heard what was vaguely her name.

For some reason, she was kneeling on the ground with both hands in front propping her up. She bent her head up to see a white blur of what may have been Gojo-sensei running towards her, but her head was heavy and her vision was strangely red. Letting her head drop back down, she blinked and saw what seemed to be drops of blood dripping to the ground.

It was the last thing she saw.

“-Anyways, I was SO shocked that you started crying blood or something. You almost looked like a curse, ahahaha!”

Her thoughts were drawn back to reality as she tuned back into listening to what Gojo-sensei was saying.

“Man, if I didn’t manually activate Infinity, you might actually have hit me and gave me a bloody nose!”

She smiled and let out a breathy laugh. “Is that so?”

Gojo-sensei leaned in closer to the bed railing and placed a hand on her head.

“Yes. You did good.”

There was a warm elation in her chest from being praised. It didn’t happen often, though it left a strange feeling in her from being praised by Gojo of all people. It filled the cavity in her chest, but those words didn’t seem to be the ones that she was waiting for. Whatever it was she was feeling, it disappeared as quickly as it came for her teacher said his next words.

“Ah, but it seems that taking the differential six times is your current limit. Man, I don’t know how I’m going to deal with you and your younger siblings when they enroll next. I heard a lot of stuff about them~.”

Ah.

Her younger siblings.

The mention brought a bitter taste to her mouth and the lurking of a foul emotion within her heart. But she smiled as though it wasn’t the case.

“Hm, yes, my younger siblings. My sister definitely has more talent with the technique than I do, and my brother is well on his way. They might be the ones that’ll give you the most trouble, Gojo-sensei.”

She watched her teacher laugh.

Behind that coy smile and blindfold, she wondered if he could see through her facade and see her true feelings beneath.

But even if he could, he didn’t make a comment on it.

“I told Hakari, and he’s worried about you, you know!” Gojo-sensei continued. “We both keep telling you that you’re being too hard on yourself! Shouko keeps complaining to me about caring for my students more, you know!” He pouted. “I care about my students.” He rubbed her head as to prove a point.

There was a simmering frustration that was building in her abdomen.

“I know that, sensei. I’ll be more aware about that. Is Hakari alright?”

Her fellow classmate in the college, Kinji Hakari, was a third-year student like her. Due to the incident last year, he was on suspension.

“Oh he’s alright. He keeps saying that he’s bored to death being suspended and all and that he’s worried about you killing yourself when he’s not there with you.”

Perhaps it was said with good intentions. But it seemed patronizing. Maybe it was because it was spoken by those who were born with naturally strong talents compared to her who had worked to the point of injury in order to be a contender as their equal. That emotion in her stomach grew and started to burn and corrode away at her insides.

She laughed softly. “Please tell him that I appreciate the concern. I’m waiting for him to get back as well.”

Gojo-sensei had stood up muttering something about being a messenger boy and was readying himself to leave. As though he forgot something, he suddenly exclaimed aloud.

“Aha! I almost forgot to tell you too.” He whirled back around to face her. “There’s a whole queue of missions for you. All grade 2 or lower. It shouldn’t be much trouble for you, but be careful since you know-“ he gestured to the infirmary bed that she laid in as to drive home the point. “You get the idea.”

He left the room.

And she let out a sigh before slumping back down in the bed and closing her eyes.

It felt as though there was a crushing weight against her chest.

Taking care of the assigned curses was a simple task.

Despite her teacher’s reluctance at sending her out to the initial mission when she had gotten so adversely injured during a simple sparring match, everything turned out alright.

It had been a good while since that had passed on the order of months, but with the shortage of jujitsu sorcerers and Hakari still on suspension, it was only natural for her to handle things like this.

She stared down at her hands, which have unconsciously and naturally formed firm fists sitting in her lap.

With being tasked with an onslaught of more and more missions, she quickly rose to the rank of semi-grade 1. She was grateful for the opportunity as she needed this as a chance to raise her rank and further her worth.

She wasn’t talented, after all.

From the moment she was born, she remembered the crushing weight of anxiety bearing down on her at each step and misstep she took. The looks of disappointment, the yelling and screaming, the endless lectures, and the unbearable weight of it all.

Maybe it would have been better to have been born a disappointment to begin with. So that no one would make her carry these expectations on her weary back.

Her grandmother was actually the one to first develop the “Differential” ability. But the woman was originally an outcast of the Gojo clan and took her technique personally as a means to spite the ones that had looked down on her before. It carried the unbelievably petty burden of one day being able to surpass the main line of Limitless techniques.

So when her father, uncles, and aunts failed to inherit any of the “Differential” traits, they were marked as failures and the family was laughed at for daring to think that they could surpass the main line of inherited techniques.

That was until she awakened.

Up until the age of five, she was treated as a worthless and filthy object. Her mother was someone able to see cursed spirits, but had no innate techniques to deal with them, and despite having spite for the main Gojo family, her grandmother viewed her mother-- and by extension, her-- as a taint on the family line of sorcerers. Her first-cousins, unable to see curses much less use techniques though borne to two sorcerer parents, were treated with delicate care and spoiled by her grandparents beyond belief. And she was treated and called as the vermin of the bunch. Her father did nothing to refute that claim while her mother took out the insults of inferiority and stain on her as the byproduct and embodiment of that she hated. A living burden that tied her down to a family clan that did nothing else but mock her.

But that changed.

Suddenly one day, while her mother was hysterically screaming and cursing the old hag within the confines of their home, a stray curse wandered in.

She remembered what it looked like.

At the time she was patting her sister’s back, trying to turn invisible in the midst of her mother’s rage as she did her utmost to not earn her ire. Her younger sister, a toddler barely learning how to walk, cried incessantly at the loud banging and clashing of pots and pans as they were flung about the house.

The clanging stopped briefly as the air chilled and silenced; a grotesque hand of oozing purple goop clutched at the hallway corner.

A cry broke out. Her sister.

Loud gurgling sounds rang out as her mother desperately avoided looking at the monster as to not warrant its attention as one that can perceive it.

But she didn’t know better.

The curse had several green eyes embedded in the goop of mess that constituted its body and it let out a warbling bellow as all those eyes narrowed in to meet hers in a chilling stare.

It took a step forth.

She held her breath as she continued to stare at it with an intense fear.

It began to approach her rapidly.

And she remembered begging in her mind for it to stop. She didn’t want it to approach her anymore.

It stopped.

Not much was remembered after that as adults came and well-qualified sorcerers took care of the curse that was just frozen in place.

She had passed out by then and woke up to a new world that was unbelievably scary and confusing. A new world of just so many expectations.

This sudden twisting change from being viewed as less than trash to invaluable gold crushed and suffocated her.

From cultivating this new skill, surpassing some “Gojo Satoru”, shoving it in her grandmother’s face, and so, so, much more. It was dizzying. Nauseating.

One misstep signaled Armageddon. One pause meant weakness. One tear was failure.

As she sat on the bus bench in the lonely countryside, her breaths felt labored like she had to push a stone brick weighing several tons off her chest a few millimeters so that she didn’t suffocate under its weight.

Her promotion isn’t too far away. She was a semi-grade 1 at the moment and was handling missions smoothly and effectively. It’s only a matter of time before it will all be over.

The road was dull and illuminated with the yellowed lights of the street lamp.

Her thoughts traversed back to the events of present day back at the school.

There was buzz on things happening back at the school, but she had not had the chance to listen in on the details of the news. The Sister Exchange event would have happened around now. She’s missed it now unfortunately, but she thought that she had heard something about the first years being roped in to fill in the third year’s vacancy and they did well enough. What was interesting that she had regrettably missed out on hearing more about was the first year student, Itadori Yuuji, who was apparently the vessel for Sukuna, the King of Curses.

She wondered if he was feeling as burdened as she was. He probably had heavy expectations too.

Footsteps were heard and a strange presence of cursed energy lurked nearby on the road.

Senses were heightened as she pulled away from her mind’s musing to hone in on the present at hand.

There was one curse. No. Three.

Her eyes followed the curved line of the road to where it bent behind some trees, and she saw three shadows walking along it without much caution or care.

A chill went down her spine. The combined auras was overwhelming. They were at least a grade higher than hers— at least Grade 1, but it would seem that all three could very well be Special Grade curses.

There shouldn’t be a cluster of special grade curses like this.

While there shouldn’t be, she did recall hearing about the strange events and appearances of strong, special grade curses with a sentience recently.

She hoped that this wouldn’t be the case.

The first one out of the shadows was a man. He looked extremely tired with prominent purple rings around his eyes and an odd rectangular stripe across his nose. He wore baggy pants and a loose, long sleeved shirt paired with a series of black sashes wrapping around his waist, shoulders, and neck. As he walked, his wild, messy, black hair tied into two prominent bunches on his head flounced around.

He took up physical space and appeared human if it were not for the immensely crushing amount of cursed energy that shrouded around him like a dense fog.

His other two companions slowly came into view. The other two were definitively curses. One was turquoise with a hunched back. It had a prominent mouth on its middle that dripped blood and a humanoid husk of a face where its head would have been.

The other held similar form but significantly more humanoid. In the center of the abdomen was a pair of red eyes and a smaller mouth. This curse was flesh colored with a more defined human form and a similar deformed humanoid head on the top.

“Nii-san, is she the one we were supposed to be looking for?” The turquoise one spoke seemingly to the most human of the group.

“That’s right.” His voice was low in timbre with a strange sense of calm and echo to it. “That amount of cursed energy and presence... It’s most definitely the relative of Satoru Gojo that we were supposed to find.”

Her breath was caught in her chest.

They were most definitely Special-grade curses. Beyond their appearances in taking physical form through some sort of manifestation, they were sentient and individually held a tremendous amount of cursed energy.

What was worse was that their target was her.

If it was simply one, then she may have handled alright against a special grade with some collateral damage, but against three her odds of victory were slim.

There wasn’t a chance to escape with the three of them having locked onto her like this, and even if she did manage to, she would most definitely return as a failure sorcerer who flaked when faced with what her purpose in life should be.

There wasn’t a choice.

She breathed out.

The wind blowing calmly around her as the three curses continued their approach lulled her into an odd sense of tranquility to brace her for what was to come.

The fight was here.

[cameoamalthea]

I think it's interesting how many people were wanting Jester to leave Artagan and go with the Moonweaver (who is awesome btw). I can't properly convey how relieved I am that didn't happen and that their already strong bond was made stronger and they both grew from it. Because that is how good relationships work and people are capable of changing for the better. Finding new faith worked for Fjord, but I don't believe it would have worked for Jester the same way. What they have can't be replaced.

If Artagan was forcibly taken from Jester it would have been traumatizing for Jester. 

What the Mighty Nein, and perhaps a portion of the fandom, don’t understand is that Jester is a depressed lonely person who hides it. She puts on a mask of always happy and fine, it’s ok. She’s not ok and they don’t see it. Jester is also afraid of being alone, which plays into her fear of being disliked and abandoned. 

Whether or not anyone else likes Artagan, Jester LOVES him and she has some serious attachment issues so just ripping him away from her would be super harmful.

There’s a scene in C2E19 where the party sees a shack and wants to investigate it. Jester suggests turning Frumpkin into a bird to go check it out since it’s like a mile away. Caleb does not like the idea, but then playfully says for you Fjord I will do it. Jester responds by being dramatic and pouting about him shooting her down but being willing to do it for Fjord. 

LAURA: Can Frumpkin be a bird? 

LIAM: (reluctantly) Yeah. 

TALIESIN: For a bit. 

TRAVIS: I want to check out the shack. 

LIAM: All right. For you, Fjord, I will make Frumpkin a bird. 

LAURA: Not for me, though. Caleb hates me.

SAM: We could just walk over there. It's a hassle to turn him into a bird. 

TRAVIS: Yeah. Keep your cat. 

LIAM: You are more sensitive than I would have imagined. 

LAURA: I want people to like me.

Caleb is extremely observant and although this is a light, playful scene, says something that cuts really close. “You are more sensitive than I would have imagined.” She’s being over the top and dramatic, he criticizes her, and since what she was joking about what is actually some real insecurity she kind of deflates, her voice gets real small and she says “I want people to like me.” 

It’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment made harder to catch by the fact everyone is talking at once and Laura is eating pizza (role-playing with your mouth full - this is not to shame her for eating, she is entitled to that pizza, but it might make it harder to pick up on the moment). However, I think this touches upon something important. 

Jester is in fact extremely insecure about being liked, and you see this with her relationship with the Traveler. Worrying that he might not like her now that she has other friends at first, and constantly needing reassurance that she’s the most important. 

There’s a brilliant thread on reddit that sums up Jester’s character as follows:

“She's a people-pleaser because she's afraid to lose people. She grew up with the only 'low resource' being people - caring, loving, laughing people. She had her mother, who definitely loves her, but that was it. Most children have scores of people, and other children! to play with. Jester didn't.

And she's afraid to lose that, at any cost. Even realizing she was manipulated, keeping Artagen is more important than standing up for herself or showing her disappointment, because she can't lose him.

Onto - Artagen. What we know:

He's openly admitted to being manipulative and selfish

More importantly: he's openly admitted to never wanting to be bored and never wanting to 'get into emotions'

This REALLY matters. Why?

Because Jester is afraid of losing everyone so she can't be what those people don't want.

Jester can't be upset in front of Artagen because he might get bored with all of her emotions and leave.

It's crazy important for her to be his favorite because, as she is helping him leave all of his followers (her biggest fear) he keeps saying he won't leave her.”

Jester has pretty serious abandonment issues. Children need the attention and support of a caregiver. RedditTotalWar made a great point on that reddit thread: “A significant withdrawal of attention is often enough to cause a child to develop abandonment issues. Children don't have the capacity to realize that some things aren't about them since they are the centers of their own universe.” So the fact Jester’s mother, who clearly loves her and is a good person, did not always have time for her and required Jester to keep her existence secret is damaging. 

Note, this is not to suggest that Marrion is a bad person or was intentionally abusive. You don’t have to be a monster to hurt a child. Disney example: In Tangled, Mother Gothel isolated Rapunzel and was an abuser who just wanted to use her. In Frozen, Anna’s Mother and Father isolated Anna out of a desire to do what they thought was best for their other daughter Elsa and to protect Anna from what they saw as the threat posed by Elsa’s magic. Anna’s parents were not intentionally abusive and loved their children, but Anna was still neglected and isolated and harmed by their actions.

To Jester, the message she got growing up was ‘Momma loves me, but she’s busy and I can’t get in the way and no one can know I exist’ which could easily be taken as ‘Momma loves me, but I’m not the most important thing to her’ or even ‘Momma loves me, but my existence makes her life harder, so maybe I’m not completely lovable since I’m a problem’. 

And while you may think, if she was that worried why would she act out and play pranks and cause trouble, the fact is that children who are insecure about being loved may self-sabotage with caregivers. You see a high rate of disruption in foster children right before adoption because the child starts exhibiting behaviors. Perhaps faced with the fear of, maybe my parental won’t love me if I cause trouble, it feels safer just deliberately causing trouble because then at least you’re the one in control rather than walking on eggshells terrified that messing up could mean abandonment. 

The fact that Jester’s prank on Lord Sharp resulted in her having to leave the only home she’s ever known and never come back under threat of death and that her Mother could not (or in her mind, would not?) protect her may have made her abandonment issues a lot worse. 

Jester is terrified of being left alone, of being abandoned. Taking away the one person who has been a constant in her life and who she has felt safe with all at once would not be good. As Laura said on her playlist “he’s always been the one person she could show her insecurities to” and losing that stable, trusted person would hurt. 

 I don’t think her relationship with Artagan is entirely healthy (it’s not healthy for a child to grow up with only one other friend and her attachment to him extreme and also he’s a selfish, manipulative Archfey - I don’t think Artagan thinks this relationship is entirely healthy). However, I do not think it would have been better for her to have him ripped away like that. Especially given the fact that the whole Moonweaver thing was her idea and she would likely blame herself for what happened. 

How devastating would that be for someone with Jester’s level of insecurity? 

The Mighty Nein, and again a portion of the fandom, may have preferred it if Jester broke up with Artagan and moved on or found a new god. Fjord’s relationship with Uk’otoa (Uk’atoa) was toxic and abusive, so the Mighty Nein are very wary of that sort of relationship. Fjord if projecting and thinks that any relationship with a powerful being that isn’t a god is dangerous. 

The truth is Jester’s relationship with Artagan isn’t really like one of cleric and god. It’s more like a personal relationship where he happens to give her divine powers.

LAURA: I take a bite of my caramel apple, and I go walking down.

MATT: You hear a crunch sound and your handshakes for a second and you look down and a mysterious secondary bite was taken out of the apple.

LAURA: (gasp) I lick the spot.

(groaning)

SAM: You're making out with your god? Gross.

MATT: They have a special relationship.

A special relationship indeed, Matt. It’s intimate, she talks to him about her crushes and asks him for advice on boys then casually confesses love to him.

LAURA: You're not jealous, are you?

MATT: "No."

LAURA: You'll always be my number one love.

MATT: "I know.”

Fjord is an orphan who was looking for parental figures. Vandren was a mentor and father figure, and it was through Vandren that Fjord gained his connection to Uk’otoa. The Wild Mother felt Motherly to Fjord and in Talks Travis said that when Matt first described the feeling his thoughts were on like have I found my Mother somehow. To Fjord religion is a divine parent, an authority figure who provides guidance and direction, and in the case of the Wild Mother love and support for him. 

Jester has never seen the Traveler as a ‘dad figure’. He’s just her best friend and based on her behavior towards him and jealousy towards his other followers, and the number of love songs on Laura’s playlist, I’m pretty convinced that Jester is IN LOVE with him. 

(I don’t know if that feeling is required. Given they grew up together with him in the form of another child and the fact Artagan is actually ancient, I think he sees her more like a little sister. This might be why he was so confused when she grabbed his face and leaned in like she was about to kiss him despite the fact that like she’s flat out told him that he’s her number one love and requires constant reassurance that she’s his favorite and acts like a schoolgirl with a very obvious crush)

And again, all of this may not be healthy or ideal for Jester. She might get hurt. However, I think in order to grow the relationship has to run it’s course no matter what happens. Artagan not only acted completely selflessly by kicking her off of him rather than face the possibility that she’d have to choose between him and or friends or be banished with him but like - he apologized to her. 

An actual, real, non-manipulative apology. He admitted he was manipulative and he’s sorry and when she tries to play it off as it’s fine, he says he doesn’t want to defend himself. He’s sorry.

That’s growth.