#probably had weapons on them and shit

[tariah23]

Man, there were some dudes on the train trying to pickpocket some big dude who was knocked out right next to me 😭…. I just got up like bro, the dude was trying to go into the dudes pockets RIGHT next to me and the other boy was sitting right next to me on the other side. I wished I could’ve said something but unfortunately, when you see shit like this, you just gotta move. I’m a woman. I’m not about to get beat up and shot up for some random guy. Especially on the train man. It’s so dangerous on there. Gotta be vigilant at all times. Like man, please don’t do that shit next to me. I don’t think they got anything tbh.

[weaverofink]

Young Justice outfit switch part 1!! The non-meta fighters: Arrowette and Robin

[lizzybeeee]

Who wants to bet that Anders was planned to be in that post-credit's Executor cutscene montage but they changed it to Bartrand when they realized it would go over real badly with everyone?

[mohntilyet]

not to mention the entire antaam fleet like 😭 that was the PERFECT moment to show off what the lords could do!!! The antaam fucked over rivain, theyve been a thorn in the whole nations side for a long time now, they would not pass up a chance for payback via full scale naval warfare so that the veilguard can do what they need to!! Sure dreadnoughts are dangerous but at this point they probably have tricks up their sleeve, thats one of the few things they have!

also wouldn't it be personal because does solas not try to blow up kont-aar because he's trying to 5d chess tevinter and the qunari into destroying each other. like. i know technically this would not be incredible widespread news because the attack was stopped, but i don't think the wonderful citizens of kont-aar would have missed the tsunami that nearly hit them and the shockwave that actually hit them. rumors go around. and i assume irian/vadis tell varric. who i think would tell isabela. who would tell the group she leads. who would care because ofc, they LIVE IN RIVAIN, and now know that solas and his followers thinks they can trade rivaini lives* to further his plans.

*while i also think there's probably a divide between kont-aar and the rest of the nation, it's one that the rivaini love to jump across and back over. an interesting comparison to be made here with most of rivain having similar sentiments towards dairsmuid and the chantry. like this is the country specifically mentioned to have a lot of citizens who follow the qun/are non-andrastian + it being MUCH more multicultural and accepting than other nations. any attack on rivain, even if it's a qunari settlement, would fan a lot of flames that solas cannot put out so the idea of trying to him taking multiple steps back because he didn't realise how intensely the qun/rivaini/lords would react is very fun for me. it would have been soo interesting for rivain to be a hub for efforts against solas because of how it's not influenced by andrastianism, how he (or his agents) specifically fucked them over, and (maddeningly for solas) also part of this resistance has spirits who willingly guide them against him. this could have even been a plot device where the door goes both ways and solas finds out rook's plans because he manages to eavesdrop through a seer or something.

and on the spirits. all the stuff where the mourn watch regularly communicates with spirits could have been done with rivain as well, and with different takes on being 'friendly' with spirits. iirc there's a spirit in the hall of valor which is so interesting but it's literally just there for flavour text. THERE'S A SPIRIT IN THE HALL OF VALOR THAT DOES NOTHING BESIDES LIKE. SAY HI. ??? bioware i would have liked to see more spirits and seers and the matriarchal pantheists you have talked about please. and also the idea of the peaceful qunari settlement being pushed to protect the country they are part of and what that means for them as qunari vs. rivaini. taash's storyline could have contributed to this . so A LOT less about choosing a side, more about how kont-aar has developed, changed, how rivain has influenced it and what it means to be qunari. not the qunari agents and fighters that we have seen, but their 'civillian' way of life in kont-aar.

complete waste not seeing any of established lore reflected in the lords of fortune or rivain because i stupidly actually thought we were going to see some kind of settlement and be introduced to a very different cultural norms.. in my beautiful mind i like to think taash is a little taken aback by how badly mages/elves/etc are treated. like they understood it was different outside of rivain (they would have been young when the dairsmuid circle annulment happened right? so they don't 'remember' it themself, they likely heard others talking about it when they're old enough to understand) but until they actually saw what was happening first hand, they had a weird dissonance about it. but what we got was a deserted beach, ties to another faction (wardens are fine!! they are great !!!! the fourth blight is interesting!!!! yet they are not the faction with a lack of info about them!!!!!) and also the hall of valor that exists as flavor text with nothing meaningful behind it besides a pub used in a few cutscenes and a minigame.

[rambles-on-dragon-age]

Varric doesn't give you the nickname Rook, your whole faction calls you Rook. It makes no sense to give you a faction specific last name and then your faction doesn't even use it, but yeah.

Hi hi!

This will be a bit of a ramble, sorry.

Varric, as a character, gives nicknames to those he's around for any length of time. (Solas is Chuckles, Merrill is Daisy, Vivi is Iron Lady, etc. Very few people in close contact with him will escape earning a moniker. I can go on about how I think it's one of his ways of telling people he sees them, but I digress.) The player character has been traveling with him for a year/the better part of a year. Varric would have definitely given them a nickname in that time. (Honestly it shocks me Harding doesn't have one by now but maybe he tried and she shut that down like Aveline once did lol) When you're putting out your things in the Lighthouse one of them is his shaving mirror and you have a moment of reflection about what he said when he hands it to you. There's also the whole time where he's giving you advice and guides you (IYKYK) and it's clear he means a lot to a Rook and they're close.

That is to say, no matter what faction you were with, you left in disgrace. You broke some code the higher ups held dear, messed up well laid plan, ignored orders to save people, etc. You didn't "fit the bill" for your faction and were summarily "adopted" by Varric to help in his hunt for Solas. Those things that made you a bad fit for your original faction? Made you perfect for what he's doing. A good person that doesn't let the potential costs stop them; they see what needs to happen to help people and will run head first into it and manage to figure a way through the most fucked up situations possible.

When you first meet Neve, you're introduced as Rook. "Like the chess piece?" Yes! One of the most powerful pieces on the board, "but tends to think in straight lines". Which becomes evident in all our shenanigans as Rook through the game. Rook's ability to claw their way through the worst situations and be flexible and creative means that Solas wouldn't be able to predict them or what they'll do. Which turns out to be right; he doesn't expect you to drop a statue on him in the middle of a massive ritual. Rook saw only "this ritual needs to stop NOW" and found a way, no matter the consequences.

I didn't hear that dialogue my first game, though, because I did my first run as a Shadow Dragon. Neve doesn't comment on the naming convention because instead Varric says you both do work with the Shadow Dragons and she just skims past the naming convention to say "Oh, what a coincidence." You are still introduced as Rook at first; it's not until later when you're in the Lighthouse where you can have the conversation that you've heard of each other even though you've never worked together.

Because even if I've worked in the group beside you under the same boss for 20 years, if you're introduced to me as "Rook" instead of "_____ Mercar" I'm not going to know who you are. It's not until later, probably while you're unconscious and she has a chance to speak to Harding, that she says she knows who you are. (Based on what Bellara says when you find her in the forest, you've been out cold for two or three days. Can you imagine what our detective figured out in two or three days?)

All that to say, if "Rook" was given to you by the Shadow Dragons, Neve would have said "Oh! I heard of a Rook." instead of just "Oh! What a coincidence we're both Shadow Dragons." She doesn't comment on who you are and what you've done until later when you have a chance to talk to her in the Lighthouse.

And throughout the game, you continue to be introduced as Rook. Even if you started as another faction, if you're written a letter about "Rook" and not your real name, why would anyone know who Rook is until they meet and go "Oh this lil shit right here. I know this asshole."

[figs-oliomedley]

I doubt Wu would train him against Misako’s wishes (see every episode of Season 1 before 10), but Lloyd would definitely come across them eventually

Plus given her mild reaction to Lloyd’s growth and the fact that he recognizes each her, she only left recently, when he was older

Plus plus, he would be safe at Darkly’s, Garmadon is literally Kruncha and Nuckal’s boss, they can’t hurt him

Were there better choices she could’ve made? Yes, but that doesn’t mean the choice she made was wrong.

Update: Turns out I’m a dipshit who forgot she leaves him when he’s young, ok :y

A lot of my points still stand though, albeit at a slightly different angle in some cases

[crows-of-buckets]

Just had the mental image of Ena going "I have perfect control over my emotions, you can never tell what I'm thinking about" then immediately falling and busting his ass bc lucanis said hi to him. He's very subtle guys don't point out his blaringly obvious crush he'll get embarrassed

[designernishiki]

dead souls is such a funny fucking concept. like. the creators of yakuza just fucked around and made a ridiculous self indulgent zombie apocalypse au of their characters just for the hell of it and went yeah yakuza fans will love this shit. drop it

[akkivee]

the game he’s so excited to play is ‘spray gun 3’ and i’m not going to forgive them for the lack of fantasy outfits for 3gumi but i am going to appreciate the based splatoon 3 reference lmao

[storms-path]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 15 - Portentous

Terror stalks the skies,

Death’s blossom on eagle’s wings,

Her touch is your end.

-Doman haiku suspected to have been written shortly before the invasion of Garlemald, author unknown. Historians speculate that the subject of the haiku was the Warrior of Light’s mother, but little corroborating evidence has been found to support this.

[medicinemane]

Man... the vast majority of people just uh... do not get geopolitical stuff at all

[that-agender-from-pluto]

God I'm so glad I'm gay rn

People You should not have to teach your partner life skills

You are not their parent

The only things you should be teaching them is what you like and how to love you

[foldingfittedsheets]

The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.

[technicolorxsn]

the other day I was forced to realize none of my friends listen to the stuff I do </3

[soapcloth]

Filthy Dog

MMA au -> pro!Soap x PR team!reader

Series CW: 18+ MDNI, possessive behaviour, spitplay, oral oneshot - 2K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

“-I'LL HAVE YER’ HEAD ON A STICK!”

You heard him before you saw him- the blur of a man who was truly more bull than human, and the scraping of chairs. Another headache for you. 

You knew this was coming, you knew he wouldn't be happy with this sponsor. You tried to warn them.

“Johnny.” Soap’s manager, Mitch, tried to reason, eyes widening when the fighter’s massive wrapped hands flexed around his freshly-pressed white button down, untucking the bottom from his pants in the process. “-John.” he corrected, coughing awkwardly. When Soap snarled at him, Mitch looked to you with that ‘help clean this mess up’ look.

“No.” Soap bit, jamming a blunt finger into the man’s chest before you could respond to his plea. “This is yer’ problem.”

“We don’t have a problem.” Mitch assured. “Talk to me John, what's up?” 

Soap’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Ye’ know damn well. Told you I'd sooner quit than work with Max Energy.”

Mitch’s lips pursed, You were unsure what he expected as the outcome of his greed- probably that he would be able to talk his way out of it. “I don’t remember you saying that." he scoffed. "Come on now, Max is great, don't blow this out of-”

Soap growled in frustration, his fist careening into the folding table beside him; a deadly weapon- a warning shot. 

“Tell me, Mitch- why was I-” he snatched the cloth hanging out the pocket of his sweatpants and pushed it into the wiry man’s chest. “-just handed shorts with Max Energy big and bold ‘cross my fucking bits?” 

he leaned in, jaw tense. “Ah’m a joke to ye’? I’ll quit right here, right now.” 

Mitch called your name like he was summoning a maid and you could only sigh in response. “Soap-” “You say one more word for him and ah’ll knock his fucking teeth in.” he warned, not even turning to look in your direction. Your mouth closed, locked tight. 

“John, you quit and all those paying fans out there waiting for you will make sure you never get another damn title again.” Mitch threatened. “They’re not here for some still wet-behind-the-ears openers. They’re sure as shit not here for Kozlov.” he laughed sardonically. “They’re here for you. Don’t ruin this.” ‘-for me’ he seemed to leave out.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch was doing this on purpose, or if he was just flat out stupid.

A deep, rumbling noise echoed around the depths of Soap’s expansive chest, lips curling back like a dog. “I do this fight- then I’m done, Mitch.” Mitch beamed, seemingly only hearing the confirmation he’d be fighting tonight. “-Not for yer’ sorry ass and not for those Max Energy bastards either. For the fans.” Soap grit out.

You could see the gears inside the manager’s head turning as he processed the financial hit he would inevitably take if his golden boy were to leave. “John-” Mitch practically whined.

 “Not up for debate.” Soap snapped, shooting him a venomous look- and like a tornado on a storm path, he chucked the shorts in the bin and left, dipping back into his locker room.

Mitch sighed, rubbing at his temples before setting his eyes on you.

“Do something. You’re Personal Relations- go relate personally.” Mitch snapped at you as he began digging into the trash to retrieve the shorts.

“Public Relations.” you corrected, earning a frustrated hiss and a dismissive hand wave. 

“Don’t change the subject. Get in there.”

You grimaced. “He’ll kill me!” 

“Don't be dramatic and hurry up, he's on soon.” Mitch urged, shooing you off. You made a sour face, heaving yourself up off the padded bench before Mitch could find something else to complain about. “-Wait.” Mitch ordered, as if he was telling a dog to heel. “-Second thought," he hummed "scratch that, let him be pissed for the fight. It’ll do numbers.”

-

Loathe as you were to admit, Mitch was correct- all three rounds had been polished off like they were light meals. You were next, surely. Your knee bounced anxiously as you awaited the full oncoming force of Soap’s post-cage high. “Fantastic! MacTavish v Kozlov-” Mitch barked out a laugh. “What a joke Kozlov was, does his team think it's amateur hour?” 

“Mitch.” you interrupted, knee falling still. “This isn’t really time for celebrations, you're about to lose your current biggest fighter.” He mowed you down with an eye roll “John just needs time to come to his senses, Max Energy contracts like this are once in a lifetime.”

“He’s not-”

The Locker room door nearly flew off its hinges, a beast coated in sweat and blood emerging. “John!” Mitch grinned with outstretched arms that faltered as the big man stormed straight past him.

God. Good god. He was hurtling towards you. Avert your gaze downwards, you coached yourself, you wouldn’t sit well in the stomach of a dog like him. 

Bare feet stopped before you. “You.” he chuffed out around the rubber guard in his mouth, drawing your gaze upwards. “Let’s go.” You looked around, not fully processing the situation. Mitch regained his composure. “Y-yes! Go talk with John.” he urged, desperately latching on to any inch of leeway Soap would give. “Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Soap barked, voice distorted by the EVA covering his teeth.”’Fore I rip yer’ head clean off.”

“R-right! We’ll talk later.” he laughed out nervously and tucked tail as Soap stared you down through the eyes of a starving street dog; getting the hell out of dodge. He kept his eyes on Soap as he left- a survival instinct not to show your back to a hungry predator.

”I tried to warn them about the Max deal.” you pressed once alone, hoping to avoid an argument. “Ah’know, bonnie.” he hummed lowly, a sweaty, gloved hand coming to graze your cheek. His sudden, loose tenderness came as a shock to your system. “Yer’ not like those vultures- Ye’ don’t see me as an asset.” His empty blue eyes relaxed, pupils dilating as his other hand raised to cradle the other side of your face, both thumbs brushing the corners of your lashlines. “Aye, Yer’ the good one. So patient with a daft bastard like me.” Your eyelids trembled slightly, his gaze zeroing in on the movement. “You want me like I want you?” 

Your eyes darted to your lap, urging Soap to tap at your cheek. “Eyes up- On me.” 

“You give the word and ah’ll treat you better than any man ever could. Ah’ll set ye’ right.” his voice dropped to a low boom. “Yer’ the only good thing ‘round me, have been since the moment we met.” You could still remember why you were hired. Soap was on the come up, but couldn't seem to figure out why getting into random scuffs with strangers over little annoyances was a bad thing. Especially for a man with a body that was essentially a lethal dose of muscle and bulk he had been specially trained in how to throw around. Possible fatal outcomes aside, it wasn't making him a man to root for. Every fight needed tension, but Soap wasn't a man built for pyrrhic victories- he was an underdog, biting and gnashing his way through cage after cage; man after man. He was meant to enjoy his hard-earned glory, and because of your work- MMA fans absolutely adored him. 

Soap huffed out, head tilting. “Y-yeah- yes, okay.” you whispered, trying not to psych yourself out. Your lips creased, head nodding before you could chicken out. 

Pulled into an blurred vortex, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you were hiked over his shoulder as he lumbered towards his private locker room for the fight, locking the door behind him. Setting you gently on the luxurious industrial sink counter was his last mercy as he ripped off his gloves and clawed at your bottoms and underwear, yanking them off your legs. A freshly-bare and clammy hand braced itself under each thigh as he jacked your legs up and over his broad shoulders, a pleased grunt passing his lips. 

He lowered down before cursing and pushing your legs back up against your chest. 

You made a small noise, worried you had somehow fucked something up for him which earned you a growl and a headshake as he grunted and spat his mouthguard onto your tummy, sticky saliva coating your skin as it found its resting place before he dove back in, not caring where the plastic ended up. 

He pressed open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs, sucking and biting at the skin like he was underfed and hungry. You whined as his teeth kept digging into the sensitive flesh, earning satisfied hums from the man in response, stubble not helping your case. You flexed, legs caging in his head which had seemed to guide him towards your waiting cunt.

The noises he emitted as he lapped at your folds made you feel nauseated and lightheaded, a blushing mess.

A shoulder jerked upwards to support your leg so he could explore the messy folds with a newly-unoccupied hand, but didnt pull his mouth back to give himself the space needed to do so; leaving you reeling at the feeling of such a concentrated area of stimulation.

As if sensing your limits, he bullied his way deeper, growling into your pussy in a way that left black spots at the corner of your vision.

Brutish fingers began to dip into the spot they had been searching for and you could feel his body tense and flex as he practically humped into the space beneath the counter, hips desperately chasing contact it wasn't receiving. He cursed against your flesh, mouth covered in drool and slick as he rose upwards, reminding you of a hulking behemoth as you were forced to accommodate the new position. He gazed down with hazy eyes and a glistening jaw as he focused on jamming whatever he could of his finger into your cunt, twitching and thrusting the digit inside you. As if the stretch wasnt enough to satisfy that itch in the back of his skull, he stuffed in his ring finger next to it, pinky and index bracing his hand as he fucked the fingers into you, transfixed. 

You were going to pass out at this rate, his knuckles, malformed from years of improper training and injury- kissed at your inner walls, sending you out of body. 

His lids lowered, pace easing as a thought passed his mind. He paused, stretching open the hole as his throat bobbed a few times. Your head clumsily lolled to the side just in time to watch a fat wad of spit drip from his mouth, directly into your slicked pussy. He smiled, happy with himself and savoring the sight for a moment before continuing his ministrations- slower this time, deeper. He angled his hand, thumb massaging at your clit just to see the way you would react. 

You didn't disappoint him, the sight of you causing his mouth to part, drool still hanging from his chin. “Fuuuck.” he breathed, drawing the word out. "-What a sight ye' are." His eyes darted back to your cunt, thick brows quirking as he experimentally ground his thumb deeper into your nub, urging a cry to push its way out of your lungs. His teeth glinted as he huffed out a small laugh. “Yer’ being so good to me too, huh?” he rumbled happily, eyes coasting along your stretched folds and it took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. He pulled his fingers out slowly, scooping the mixed fluids up and popping them into his mouth. “Mmh-” he groaned, diving back in to gather more, this time digging deep. the movement finally pushed you over the edge. “Tha’s it.” he praised, dipping his head low to lap his mess beneath your flexing thighs.  -

You spent the following half hour under a steaming waterfall shower head with a looming mass tucked against your back, cleaning you up and rutting against you in random incriments- his skin surely emitting steam at a higher rate than the water. He bowed his head into your neck, bunting against you and inhaling the smell of his favourite body wash on your skin. “-Got an offer from 141 Athletics a bit ago, they could take care of it all for us, y'know.” he mumbled, pausing and dragging his nose along your nape. “Yer' coming-" he breathed out. “You work for me, not Mitch- You're coming with me.” you could feel his lips drag up in a sneer against your skin when the man's name left his mouth. In an attempt to comfort him, you tried to turn and face him, but thick arms stopped you, curling under your arms and around your chest, sneaking a feel before pulling you into him, the fatty layer coating his pecs molding against your back like a dream.

You nodded.

“Good.” he sighed.

[cassscainss]

some of my favorite things about Anora in no particular order (SPOILERS BELOW):

the goons, wow what all timer movie goons. concussed guy for goon of the year

when anora beats the shit out of those goons for a fifteen minute stretch and they get increasingly more afraid of her. comedy gold, just pitch perfect comedy treading the line between should-i-be-worried-for-her and the disarming buffoonery of the goons

ivan's mom stomping on the last step of the private jet stairs. her incredible houndstooth suit. every second of her on screen.

all of them throwing the pens at the annulment woman

ivan's dad dying laughing during the annulment as anora throws all of the moms shit on the ground

every parking in new york joke from the ticket in front of the courthouse to getting towed down on brighton beach

how the entire time, nobody pulls out a weapon, not once. and yet, the threat of violence and danger still lingers in the periphery because of the deftly constructed tension of the roving camera and contextually what we don't know about this family and the broader scope of ivan's world and the looming threat of the parents. how far can she push the goons until they get violent, and yet they never really do, but baker never lets you exhale that breath.

when they walked into tatianas..... like sean does his RESEARCH

also the t.A.T.u needle drop like i screamed

also the fight over driving or walking for five minutes in the cold. the new york specificity in this movie is pinpoint accurate, down to the mundane

the ending, her having a breakdown release of everything that had happened to her and how humiliated she was, but also how she thought she had gotten out and made a fairytale of her life. how using her body was the only power she has ever had, and how that was what she defaulted to with Igor in that last scene, but it was when he wanted to kiss her that the facade of power broke down and so did she. how she had to face her own humanity, and in that moment ask herself if she wanted to kiss him, because he was giving her perhaps her first real choice in a long time, and that opened a pathway to maybe questioning whether she truly wanted any of what had happened to her. maybe in that moment she realized that her body is not as powerful as she perhaps convinced herself it was. she was far more powerless than all her bravado and will probably always be powerless in the socioeconomic systems of the world that are built up around her. how disposable she was made to feel maybe for the first time, and how she thought she had built up that bravado and detached arrogance around herself so that she would never feel that way, but the feeling still seeped through nonetheless. all of that delivered wordlessly, in silence, buried under the falling white snow that will throw a white, pristine blanket over everything as if nothing significant had happened at all.

but also like igor, i too would fall in love with her almost instantly and tbh i did. rip to Ivan, anora i am hopelessly in love with you, and i would die for you.