#some of these feel really obvious but the point is to have fun!!

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[explorerrowan]

So I'm really enjoying the game No Man's Sky this year. With the patches Hello Games has released this year, it's finally feeling like the game they promised and always wanted to make back in 2016. The ships, stations, and missions are more interesting and diverse, the planet generation has really stepped up with more biomes and creatures (including oceanic and undersea stuff!), and all in all, it feels like a huge, diverse, sandbox universe to fuck around in while not feeling too empty.

The seasonal Expeditions have especially been fun. I've participated in three of them now, Aquarius, Cursed, and Beachhead Redux, and they were all great. I especially liked Aquarius, partly because I did it at a stressful time this fall and needed some time when I could just relax and catch some virtual fish. Probably the primary complaint I have is that the Expeditions are not especially newbie-friendly. Expeditions often change certain game rules (like restricting certain tech) to make sure the players participate in the Expedition's loose plot. So you kinda already have to have a certain amount of familiarity with the normal rules to know how to adapt to the changes. (The Cursed expedition was especially bad about this, since it effectively banned hyperspace travel and restricted you to portal travel to go from star to star, which frequently made objectives less obvious or harder to complete.)

Also, I really like the stuff that happens after you complete the main questline. You can meet a whole new race of robot people called the Autophage, and they're so sassy and independent compared to the Korvax and I love them. Not going to give too many spoilers about them so I don't detract from people who might play their questline, but they built their own bodies out of scrap metal and they're so proud of themselves (to the point that they call everyone else "pre-built" almost like an insult) and it feels very trans metaphor to me.

Tell me about your hyperfixation while I pose dramatically beside you.

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Letters (Part Three)

(Part one)

(Part two)

ClarisseLaRuexAphrodite!Fem!Reader

No warnings I think

As your “training sessions” progress, you realise that you and Clarisse have gotten close, really close. You know you like her and you want to tell her. With the help of one of your sisters, you plan a surprise for Clarisse to show her how you feel. You discover something rather surprising in the process.

It had been a few weeks since your first training session with Clarisse, and things were looking up. The sessions were not only a way to hang out with your secret crush; they also were proving to be really helpful. Of course you were already strong and pretty good with a sword, but now? You were one of the best. You were kicking ass on the battlefield and loving every minute of it, especially when you saw the surprised faces of those who used to underestimate you.

The two of you had originally been meeting just once a week, but Clarisse had suggested more frequent sessions, insisting you “needed the extra help”. You knew better—it was obvious she enjoyed your company. So, what started as weekly meetings soon turned into daily drills and soon enough, even having your lunches together. Before you knew it, you were practically a regular at the Ares cabin.

Of course amidst the good, there was always going to be bad. A few of the Ares were not particularly fond of you. One boy in particular, Dylan, despised you. He had no reason too apart from his own biases.

You'd been with Clarisse. It was a Sunday, so the two of you had been doing what most teenagers did on a Sunday, absolutely nothing. You had sported a cute pink bow in your hair, as did many of the Aphrodite kids. You hadn't thought much of it as it was your usual attire. Dylan did not like it. He had never been particularly kind to you but for some reason this really aggravated him. He'd been making snide remarks about it all day, but at some point he had decided that wasn't enough. He had clasped his grubby fingers on your ribbon and pulled violently, jerking your head backwards. Of course, you were enraged, but before you could retaliate, Clarisse had jumped to your defense. She had stood up and punched him in the face so hard that he fell back, cursing and clutching his bleeding nose.

Needless to say the rest of her siblings started treating you with more respect after that. Obviously you were annoyed at the whole situation but you thought about it for days after. Clarisse had been at your defense immediately. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

As your friendship with Clarisse blossomed, the vibe between you two became more relaxed and easygoing. Training sessions turned into laughing fits, and lunches turned into impromptu gossip sessions. But amidst all the fun, you couldn’t help but feel almost empty. Of course it was great being her friend, but it was gut wrenching at the same time. You were hopelessly in love with her and it wasn’t like you could just ignore your feelings - you spent too much time with her for that.

As the days passed and your feelings for Clarisse deepened, you found yourself increasingly troubled. You went to one of your Aphrodite sisters, hoping for guidance.

She knew you well and so with a sympathetic smile, she welcomed you and sensing your turmoil, asked "What's been bothering you?".

Taking a deep breath, you poured out your heart, confessing your unspoken love for Clarisse and the fear that gripped you at the thought of revealing your feelings. "I don't know what to do," you admitted, your voice wavering with uncertainty.

Your sister listened intently, offering words of comfort and encouragement. "Confessing may seem daunting, but it's also liberating. You deserve to be true to yourself and your feelings."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way?" you asked, your voice tinged with fear.

"Even if she doesn't return your feelings, at least you'll have clarity," your sister replied gently. "And who knows? She might surprise you."

Of course you were nervous, but you couldn’t keep living like this. I mean come on! You were the daughter of love, you couldn’t hide from it. So it was decided. You were going to confess your feelings to Clarisse. It sounded easier than it really was and you spent the next few days contemplating how you were going to pull it off. Should you opt for a more grandiose gesture? Did Clarisse like that kind of stuff or would she prefer something more understated?

Eventually, you decided you had waited long enough. you knew you had to tell her. You had decided on a modest yet heartfelt approach - a handwritten letter which you placed in a pale pink envelope. You had spent hours writing it, agonizing over which adjectives to use and the loops of your cursive handwriting. Eventually you decided it was ready so you snuck over to the Ares cabin. You knew you would be alone as Clarisse was occupied training with her siblings. Entering the dorm, you made your way over to Clarisse’s bed. Where would you put it? The thought of placing it on her crimson bed sheets seemed too cliche and you knew there was a chance of one of her siblings finding it before her. You wanted it to be romantic. You scanned her area to find a spot where you could place your letter.

Your gaze fell upon her desk and you decided one of its drawers would be a fitting place. Before you could place the letter down, something interesting caught your attention. A brown leather bound book lay there and on it was the word “diary”. This was news to you, you didn’t realize she had a diary and to be honest, you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the idea of the tough Clarisse spilling her innermost thoughts onto the pages of this book. Of course you knew you shouldn’t look inside but the temptation was just too overwhelming. With trembling hands, you opened it and scanned through the first few pages. Her initial entries only consisted of scattered doodles and mundane to do lists but soon genuine reflections began to emerge. A random one drew your attention but as you kept reading, you were in disbelief. Clariss’s entry was about a girl. Clarisse had been watching this girl for a while and had always considered her beautiful, but she never thought much more of it.

You kept reading

She wrote about how she had spent time with this girl. How she had recently discovered how her beauty wasn’t skin deep, how this girl was kind and sweet and gentle. She wrote about how she was scared of this girl finding out about her love because she thought that a girl like her could never love Clarisse back.

Was this diary entry about you?

Suddenly, a noise caught your attention from behind, causing you to whirl around. There stood Clarisse, her expression a mix of confusion and then embarrassment as she caught sight of what you were holding.

"What are you doing?" she asked, moving forward to retrieve the diary from your hands.

"Clarisse—" you began, but she interrupted, her panic evident in her voice.

"You weren't supposed to see that," she admitted

You hesitated for a moment, slightly taken aback by Clarisse's Vulnerability. However, as you met her gaze, your resolve strengthened.

"I know I wasn't supposed to see it," you replied gently, "But I did, and... Clarisse, there's something I need to tell you."

Her eyes widened in surprise as you held out a pale pink envelope, its contents—the handwritten letter—nestled within. Clarisse hesitated, her hand hovering over the envelope.

"What's this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's... it's for you," you admitted, feeling a rush of nerves coursing through you. "I wrote it because... because there are things I need to say, things I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

Clarisse's gaze softened, and you could see the wariness in her expression begin to fade. Slowly, tentatively, she reached out and accepted the envelope from you, her fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she broke the seal and withdrew the letter. As she unfolded the paper, you watched anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest.

Silence filled the air as Clarisse's eyes scanned the handwritten words, her expression shifting from surprise to curiosity, and finally to a soft smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. You held your breath, waiting for her reaction, unsure of what she would say.

She looked up at you, smiling, and without warning, she closed the distance between you with an abruptness that took your breath away.

Her lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss. It was passionate and soft all at the same time - a collision of desire and longing finally satiated.

You guessed your sister was right, Clarisse La Rue did surprise you.

[ramblinscramblin]

Hi! I loved how you wrote Sniper in the dating headcanons post. Your characterization of him is on point!

Could I please request how Sniper would act in the first instances of dating the reader? Thank you so much, have a good day!

→Honeymoon phase with Sniper!

Genre: slice of life, fluff, the slightest of angst

Characters: Sniper ofc

Eek!! Thank you so much, it’s so very obvious how much I favor him, haha! Let’s get this show on the road!

Sniper

Gets most his cues from you, he’s not so used to being in long committed relationships like the two of you have agreed on, so he’s mostly following your lead.

He can seem pretty apathetic in relationships at first, you have to really understand him as a person to know his true feelings and idiosyncrasies.

Early into relationships he almost pretends that he isn’t dating you, doesn’t make many alterations to your relationship besides occasionally holding your hand and kissing you.

He’s absurdly awkward, but he hides it by being quiet, can’t say the wrong thing if you don’t say anything at all amirite.

“Hey Snipes do you want to go out for dinner tonight?”

He looked at you for a moment before answering “yup.”

You’re gonna have to be okay with planning all the dates and carrying all the conversations for a little while.

Incredibly insecure during intimate moments, not just during sex, but like just private moments between the two of you.

Always afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, this manifests mostly as inaction, but may make some jokes at his expense about it too. Mostly under his breath comments, things said in a laugh, he would die before he was honest about how he felt.

You may allow him to make the jokes as a sort of way to alleviate his stress, or alternatively you could express that you don’t like hearing him say that kind of stuff about himself, in which case he will stop immediately.

He would do whatever you told him to do, even if he protests against that idea to the moon and back.

Whenever you initiate physical contact with him he freezes, like full on holding his breath. He’s afraid that if he moves you’ll stop.

One night he was sat at the edge of the bed, just sort of staring zoning out as he is one to do.

You came over hands on your hips before gently racking a hand through his hair, bonus points if you call him handsome or something of the like.

Will totally blue screen, face bright red and just stopped his tracks. Whatever thought he was having vanishing into thin air. Secretly praying you don’t notice because if you do you’re going to think he’s weird and stop.

“Relax a little Snipes, this is supposed to be the fun bit,” you say gently.

“I-I’m relaxed, mate. All too relaxed.”

“Right, right.”

He’s pretty shit at communication as I’m sure you’ve gathered, will bottle things up until it all boils over, I could see it causing some problems later into the relationship.

Just be patient, it’s worth it.

He’s pretty clingy right off the bat, again hides this in his own way but it’s glaringly obvious. You’re the only person he’s been able to tolerate this long he’s pretty eager to keep you around.

You stood up on the couch, patting your thighs as you did so.

He flicked his head towards you in an instant “where are you going?”

“Oh,” you turned towards him, surprised as his silent strike has suddenly come to an end “just to the kitchen.” You pointed over you shoulder with your thumb.

He stood up and walked over to the kitchen, waiting for you against one of the counters, staring at the floor. You just kind of blink at him confused for a second. This is his van. The kitchen is quite literally a foot away from the couch and he still managed to follow you. He’s so sick.

Still calls you mate even well into the relationship, only starts calling you “darl’” and “love” about a year into your relationship. Even then he still probably calls you mate a lot.

He’s just really smitten with you and is absolutely trying his best.

Omg THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST THIS WAS A DELIGHT TO WRITE. I love this FUCKING dumbass so much. (≧∀≦)

[clueless-romantics]

BAXTER

so, about the fish man that I love. I wanted to do a short analysis of him before we get him in the full series.

this will be full of season two predictions, shipping, headcanons, and backstory ideas.

DEATH

first, we'll start with his death. ironic, right?

anyways, we know that Baxter was supposed to have died on the Titanic, but since Viv didn't want to be Insensitive, she changed it to a vague ship that sunk in the 1910s. since he is an anglerfish, which lives on the sea floor, we can infer that he probably didn't make it out of the ship, and sunk to the bottom of the sea with it. thats all we know right now, and I will give ideas to expand on that and give him some character.

he might have a fear of not having enough air, or a fear of sinking or being pulled down.

he absolutely hates the movie "Titanic," and complains about how inaccurate it is to everyone (fun hc)

LIFE

we know nothing about his life, other than he was some sort of scientist. I like to imagine that he was a heartless scientist who disregarded everyone else's lives, and experimented on people.

A reason why he could be so short is that he believed his life to be more important, or 'higher' than everyone else. that is why he is short, as hell usually makes you look like things you hate, therefore he would hate being viewed as lesser, or smaller than others, and now quite literally.

we do not know how old he is, but I would assume based on looks that he is 25-30, somewhere around that range.

RELATIONSHIPS

we dont know much about Baxter at all in any of these, as I have stated, but in the sneak peak we know he had a negative past with sir pentious. since we know sir pentious is an inventor, not a scientist, therefore he cannot create biological life. one of my theories is that sir pentious made the egg bois with Baxter's help and betrayed baxter, while taking the egg bois with them. I also personally headcanon they dated, but that might not be true, and isn't really backed up by anything.

now, onto who I think owns his soul. I believe vox would be his owner, as vox has a proven history of working with sea creatures, and it is a very popular theory. I think he has two reasons to be at the hotel. one, obvious one, for studying redemption. he is a scientist, why wouldn't he want to do that? the second, being he was spying for vox. my reasoning? there are two reasons I think could be true.

vox hired Baxter because sea creature AND the fact vox knew sir pentious and Baxter had a rivalry, so vox would take advantage of that and give Baxter the chance to upstage his enemy.

two, baxter knew sir pentious failed at being a spy so that's why he accepted the job, so more intent on Baxter s side for this.

MISC.

baxter is still a scientist in hell, obviously. so I'd imagine in his 100+ years of being in hell, he probably has his own lab. we don't know a lot about him, still, which leaves a lot for the imagination. which, brings me to my next part, headcanons!!

HEADCANONS!

Baxter is trans (only female anglerfish have the esca)

Baxter wears glasses but only for protection during science experiments, because anglerfish have excellent vision, so he wouldn't be low vision.

EXCELLENT vocabulary

he avoids alcohol and smoking like the plague, as he is very health conscious and doesn't like husk at first because of it

the only person in the hotel he can actually bear talking to (besides niffty) is cherri. they both have a past with sir pentious, and he would probably think she is the most self actualized out of all the guests, (he doesn't think Vaggie is the most because he dislikes how violent and protective she is)

THAT CONCLUDES MY POINTS ABOUT HIM!

FEEL FREE TO ADD YOUR OWN IN THE COMMENTS AND REPOSTS

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Pretty in pink

Another reason why I always knew Clairmy was never gonna be endgame.

This piece of meta has been sitting in my drafts for months. Since I watched S2 for the first time, back in January. After yesterday's teaser, I thought I just might dust it off and hang it out to dry in the sun, so here it is and actually, this is much better timing because I get to supplement it with more and newer meta I came up with later on.

So, the second I heard the first few tunes of the soundtrack I just knew.

The Bear | Pop | 02x05

Storer wasn't subtle.

I just knew that C was gonna end up with someone else, or just letting him go, and when I heard Carmy saying these words:

and they rang soooo untrue and unhinged and even forced or coaxed coming from him and in that context, so OOC, etc... I took it as all the confirmation I needed to firmly stand my anti-clairmy ground even before I got to know her.

It was obvious to me that that was not Carmen Berzatto talking, but The Bear Jr., the kid in HS who grew up isolated and under Michael's shadow.

He was coming from a place of complete and utter stuckness, a stagnant position he regressed to, the second his frustrated HS sweetheart won this battle:

He wasn't necessarily lying when he said he liked her, at least not consciously:

But the TENSE was the problem. He said "I like you so much" when it was the HS stuttery kid the one talking, the one who wished SHE talked to him more, so he didn't have to because he was too shy. He should have said liked if he was being honest with himself and her.

He should have told her something along the lines of: "I had a crush on you in HS, and when you came onto me, I choked. This is so not the right timing for me to do this because I'm tied up with the restaurant, and I just... instead of telling you all of that, I took the easy and cowardly way out and gave you the wrong number. Sorry."

BTW, that's a pattern he will have to outgrow because of Syd if he doesn't wanna lose her. He will have to start telling the woman he loves in proper timing how he feels and why and do the chasing if he must because Syd, unlike C, is NOT A CHASER, she's a walker (pattern she will have to outgrow herself too, as I mentioned → here). No more room for the shy kid, he's gonna have to man up in S4.

After delivering those lines that to me were OOC and plain blatant, he turned into Logan to fit in the party and in C's life (or make her fit into his, whatever).

So, my point is that when I heard the Pretty in Pink soundtrack I immediately drew these parallels:

Duckie is Carmy and Andy is the C person. IDGAF who was gonna play Blane, I assumed that character was gonna be introduced to us later in the series, or not at all. But Andie and Duckie do not end up together because they are not right for each other even though they grew up together. They are just not right for each other because coming from the same place doesn't determine shit in life, the choices you make do. In the movie, they didn't choose each other. PerioT. That was a hell of a musical foreshadowing and I thank the sadist for it because the second I associated that musical piece of data with ep 01x03 I was like: “OK, how much more obvious can you be, Storer? Really? Try harder, please.”

Because why would he give Molly Ringwald such important lines in S1 if Pretty in Pink was not a huge lead we needed to follow in S2 when the same plot of one of her biggest hits made a cameo on the show, right?

So, anyway... I always knew these 2 were endgame:

Waayyyy before Syd said it. Actually, Syd didn't say it bc we don't know who she was talking about, it was STORER who did that in the teaser, HE IS THE ONE WHO SYNCS UP THE MUSIC WITH THE FRAMES OR SIGNS OFF ON WHAT THE EDITORS SYNC UP AS PER HIS REQUEST AND HE'S THE ONE WHO DECIDES WHO ARE ENDGAME ON HIS SHOW. So it's Storer who yesterday told us Pretty in Pink doesn't get the guy, which was pretty obvious, if you ask me :)

Bonus track: Syd is his redemption plot. Syd is his endgame, sure, but first, he has to grow up to be the man he can be as opposed to the bear he is. I always said his whole redemption arc is Kierkegaardian:

And he even looks like him, c'mon!

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[13eyond13]

love it when a character that's hard to read intuitively for you has like a dedicated fandom interpreter who can just glance at their blank face in a panel and then give you a 3k word essay on their innermost thoughts & desires & fears and neatly tie it back into the themes & whatnot as if it's the most obvious thing in the world

[batsplat]

if more people knew Herstory (aka 2004 season and sete&vale) so many questions wrt 2015 season(mostly “why would vale….”) would immediately be answered addfghjk like guysssss guyssssss

it is kinda funny that there's a simple cheat code out there to understanding most of valentino's career but it's just about long enough ago that most people simply... ignore it. like there's a three year span that more or less tells you what you need to know about him. it's like you say! pretty much every possible "why would vale..." secretly has a straightforward answer, and 9/10 it's something that was established in 2003 to 2005. simple as

if anything it's almost annoying because it's too easy. the 2004/2015 stuff in particular is incredibly funny. oh, so you say you have a controversial last lap at assen where valentino beat a rival in direct combat and said rival reacted surprisingly poorly, making valentino reevaluate his relationship with the rival? might that tell you something about how a seed of suspicion once sown can remain dormant for months until valentino is given cause to revisit it? valentino quite literally says in his biography that he could never have hated biaggi because he wasn't a friend and didn't have the power to hurt him... the sepang pressers thing is genuinely just silly, I know this is mainly a function of when they happen in the calendar but what a bizarre coincidence. 2015 is like a slightly more opaque funhouse mirror version of 2004 - but so many of the major beats are virtually identical. which means you've got a season Out There where a younger less experienced less guarded less cynical valentino basically walks you through his internal processes so you get a really good handle of what his deal is. he's piecing together his identity as a competitor going forwards in real time - and then in 2015 he just reminds you of what exactly that identity involves. it's a reaffirmation and not a departure... he's not that inscrutable after all, in the end

[drachliebe]

been looking back at some older hc posts & i'm proooobably gonna update some things here . again . sorry , i'm currently this :

[sysig]

Everything falls into place so nicely when they’re together (Patreon)

[todayisafridaynight]

At which point did you realise that the plot of IW is ass? I've seen people complain only about the ending or the halfway point where the teams separate, while I was already actively rolling my eyes like four-five chapters in

i think the moment i fully accepted that IW's story was. Definitely A Story was the moment ebina announced 'bleach japan'. like i think leading up to that point i was thinking to myself 'oh i hope i see X happen' or being like 'i wonder where this is going' and that sort but the proverbial bucket of ice was definitely that moment

[happyk44]

It's kinda funny because w/ my Zeus kid OC (who I've been thinking about renaming as Araceli, 'cause it means altar of the sky, apparently, which I like 'cause sky-themed-ish but also like. A little bit I wanted something that meant cloud the way Coral's name means... Coral) the implication is that she takes after her father to an almost mirroring degree because I developed her and my other PJO OCs (who also all got retconned into an OG work) at the same time I was playing around with my ideas on the Big Six, and the gist at the time was supposed to show how the Big Six could've turned out if they weren't so weird.

So the dynamics of the friendship was supposed to be very similar to the dynamics of Big Six's relationship to each other (e.g. Mary having a major crush on Hera's "representative" but also being attracted to literally every other person that walked by, Nico being the soberminded big brother figure, etc). It's also one of the reasons Mary would get angry whenever someone would compare to her dad, because similarly I think Zeus would get angry if someone compared him to his dad.

And then eventually as I got older and the daydream moved around with whatever obsession I had at the time, the characters and general storyline began to change away from that in some ways but core features sort of stayed and so I ended up with a version of Zeus that ignores his daughter's pleas for help because he loves her but her pain hurts him because he can't do anything about it and it's his fault she's suffering.

She got this intensity from him, it's ingrained into the way it's ingrained in him. But he was able to rebuild the world according to his own needs and wants and beliefs. And she can't really do that. So he doesn't have any advice he can give her when she's on her knees begging for help with all the noise and pain in her head. He doesn't know what to do! It's like he can just go and rip it out of her.

But she's suffering because she's different and she's weird and she knows it and she knows it's his fault which is why she's asking but he just doesn't know and he can't handle watching her suffering and listening to her cry when there is no helpful answer to give her because "I don't know" isn't going to fix it.

He's supposed to fix things, he's supposed to have the answers. He's king of the world, by damn! He's a problem solver. He supposed to have a solution, and a million backup solutions. But he doesn't! There's nothing he can do to make the noise stop because truth be told, the noise never really stopped for him! It just got easier and quieter. So he turns away from her because he loves her and he's failing her and he can't handle that.

But also in the same breath, I think he recognizes similar aspects of himself in Jason, who isn't even asking for help, and fucking despises him for it, lol.

✨ Girl Dad ✨

[mxdotpng]

though i don't think it's right to say the party didn't like luke before he changed. there are a lot of times where its obvious they do have some sort of attachment to him even if its obscured by how annoyed and/or frustrated he makes them. like when luke went back to baticul for the first time and everyone was trying to cheer him up and go sightseeing together, or when they were worried about him during their trip to choral castle. they were rightfully biased, as they saw the forefront of his behavior, but if they hadn't liked him at all they wouldn't have agreed to travel with him again, nor would their feelings after akzeriuth be so personal.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I'm loving how, being stagings of the play and not reinterpretations, many productions are able to add some characteristic creative twist to it that adds or enhances something in particular

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th — virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART ONE | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

pairing: mattheo riddle x berkshires!sister

summary: mattheo’s conscience can only hold him back for so long.

warnings: 18+, hogwarts uni (putting this even tho it’s obvious), jealous mattheo, flirting, tension tension tension, “we can’t do this” type of vibe, “your brother is right over there” type of vibe. bestfriends lil sister trope. part one of two.

Morality—what is it, really? How is it measured? Is it a linear scale? Could someone be morally sound yet sometimes make an exception when the situation called for it?

Perhaps it's subjective. Anything that falls outside of the law, that is.

Mattheo forced a breath from his lungs, the drink in his hand was tasteless, some watered-down excuse for a cocktail. But that didn't matter, not really—what mattered was the way you kept laughing, the way your hand lingered a second too long on that random bastard's sleeve. The sight made something concerning coil tight in his chest, but he stayed where he was, back against the wall, sucking down drinks like he'd been tasked to it.

God, this was stupid. Morality. Right and wrong. He knew the difference, of course he did. Just because he was a Riddle didn't make him a monster. Not yet, anyway. But that line, the one between you and him—the one drawn so clearly in the sand—was practically mocking him with its absolutes and daring him to cross it. Forbidden, off-limits, the one thing he shouldn't want.

His best friend's little sister. The good girl. A virgin, no less.

"Riddle—you coming?"

Mattheo's head jerked slightly, but his mind was miles away.

He waved a hand. "I'll catch up in a bit.”

Malfoy and Zabini nodded, slipping into the night, leaving him behind in the dim, crowded ballroom. Spring dance. Hours past dusk. He didn't even know why he was still there. Normally, he was long gone before the clock struck twelve, but tonight the room pulsed with bodies and the music hummed under his skin. His drink was half-forgotten in his hand, and his gaze was fixed on a group across the room.

Or, more specifically, on you.

You were standing, black dress to your mid-thighs, half-listening to boys from your year drone on about quidditch tryouts and the usual chatter that filled the space between your breaths. But your eyes—your eyes weren't on them. You were looking at him. A soft smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, like you knew something he didn't.

His heart kicked against his ribs. Where was that line again?

You winked, and he sipped his drink. He'd always said bad decisions made good stories—but even if this (unnameable thing between you) was a story worth telling, the people to hear it would be few.

The tension grew suffocating and he finally looked away. You took that as a win, but you weren't about to let the game end there—not after you noted the tense of his fingers around his cup. You excused yourself from the group, your body moving through the crowd like water, fluid and unhurried, weaving your way toward him.

You knew the line well, the one Mattheo pretended so hard to respect. Restraint wasn't his nature—it never had been, not in the decade you'd watched him take whatever he wanted without a second thought. He wasn't made for holding back, and it showed every now and then—every time his lips crashed against yours in some hidden corner, whispering confessions of how badly he wanted more, how he ached for what he couldn't have.

You loved pushing him to that point. You loved knowing how bad he wanted you. Your brother would lose his mind if he found out. But that didn't matter, not even a little. Not when Mattheo looked at you like that.

"Having fun?" He asked upon your approach, his voice a shade too flat.

"A little." You leaned against the wall beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, your presence seeping into the space between you. "What about you? You seem a bit...tense."

"Tense." The word came out bland, barely audible, and he took a slow sip of his drink, like he needed it just to find his voice. "Why would I be tense?"

You wet your lips, slow, deliberate, studying him with that sidelong glance that made his pulse skip. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—those beautiful, dangerous brown eyes—scanned the room with something too close to desperation.

"Good question." You tilted your head, gaze playful, curious, like you were dissecting him right there in the half-light. "Maybe it's because you've been watching me like a hawk. Like you're waiting for me to do something...wrong."

"Maybe I'm just looking out for you," he muttered, his gaze sliding to your brother across the room, lips locked with some brunette. Mattheo's eyes flickered back to you, just for a moment. "Your brother's a little...busy, after all."

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into an amused, almost wicked smile. "Ah, so that's it. You're just being my big, overprotective babysitter."

"I don't need to babysit you," he grumbled, though his gaze betrayed him, darting over to the group of boys you'd been talking to. "Just keeping an eye on the company you keep."

It was almost amusing—the way Mattheo stood there, sizing up your guy friends like they were targets in a lineup, probably mentally noting who he'd hit first if any of them dared to step out of line. He was different tonight—and you could have brushed it off, could have let that flicker of vulnerability slide, but that wasn't how this game was played. Not with him. Not with you. There was no room for naivety here.

You turned to face him now, full-on, shoulder resting against the wall as you raised a hand, fingers brushing lightly up his arm.

"Keeping an eye," you repeated as you traced the hard line of his shoulder, then down, lower, over his chest. "Ever my hero, Mattheo Riddle."

When your fingers grazed his abdomen, his breath caught and he grabbed your wrist—hard—the suddenness of it making you gasp. Then, he turned to face you, and his gaze finally met yours—really met yours—for the first time since you'd crossed the room.

"Don't." His voice was low, strained, like he was fighting himself as much as you.

Your eyes widened in mock surprise, that innocent look you'd perfected like a sport. You wore it like a halo you knew you didn't deserve.

"Don't...what?" You damn-well knew what.

His grip tightened, just enough for you to feel the heat of it, pulling you closer, so close you could feel the tension radiating off him. He wet his lips, and you melted—remembering how it felt to kiss them.

"Don't play games with me." He said. "Not tonight."

The warning was clear, but instead of pulling away—heeding his words and letting that heat simmer down—you leaned closer, defying every unspoken rule. The thrill shot up your spine, into your brain, turning everything hazy, electric. You were drunk on it.

"Why not?" Your free hand traced up his other arm and his gaze followed the movement, lips parting ever so slightly. "...afraid you'll lose?"

Before you knew what was happening, he had you spun around—so fast you barely registered the movement before your back hit the cold stone wall. His drink found the table beside him, his focus entirely on you.

"Don't to this to me. Not here," he whispered. "Your brother is right over there."

You glanced toward Enzo, still too preoccupied with the brunette to notice a thing.

"He's a little distracted, don't you think?" Your fingers on your free hand resumed their path, this time up toward his collarbone. But his other hand found them, too. You looked down. Two large hands, wrapped tight around your wrists, like he could stop the fire running through your veins if he just held on hard enough. Your thighs shook. "Gods, you really are tense tonight, aren't you?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, two embers gleaming in the night— his lips twitching in a way that made your pulse stutter. There was need in him now, a raw, visceral energy that vibrated between you. Untethered.

He leaned in, closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "You're impossible."

"Impossible..." you echoed, the space between you shrinking with every second. There was no choice in it. It was magnetic, inevitable. He leaned closer, and you—against all reason—matched him, drawn by a force you couldn't name. "Impossible to...resist, Matty?"

Your lips were so close, you could almost taste the flavours lingering on his breath. The heat of him drew you in like gravity, pulling you into that dangerous space where everything blurred—boundaries, rules, reason. His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a way that felt instinctive—

And then, the world snapped back.

Cheering—loud, raucous—followed by the sharp crack of glass splintering against the floor. It cut through the moment, pulling you both back to reality. Mattheo's gaze jerked toward the sound, and in an instant he took a step back, his hands releasing your wrists like you'd burned him—like you were the danger here, a fire he'd gotten too close to.

"We can't," he whispered, and it sliced through you. It hit harder than the crash of glass, harder than the noise around you. "You don't want this. I promise you don't."

You stared at him. You knew what he meant, what he was trying to say, the warning etched in every tense line of his body. The two of you had been over this before. You knew Mattheo Riddle was not the man who would love you, not the man who would stay, who you'd call your forever. You weren't that naive. You weren't looking for forever—you just wanted a beginning. A first. A first that would teach you the edge of desire, with someone who knew what to do.

Someone experienced.

"I do," you whispered, barely holding steady under the weight of it all—the realization that you'd almost kissed him, right here, where anyone could've seen, where your brother wasn't far. "More than anything, I do."

His jaw clenched, that flicker in his eyes darkening. He ran a hand through his hair, curls falling messily back into place, his face twisted in thought, already calculating the fallout, already seeing the inevitable consequences.

"Your brother will kill me," he muttered. "He'll kill you."

"He’s not my dad, Mattheo. I’m an adult. He doesn't have to know." The words came out firm, too firm for how fast your heart was beating. You didn't dare move closer, but the tension between you was still electric, still alive. "No one except us."

For a heartbeat, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt it—that gravity pulling you both back to the brink. It was visible—the weight of his indecision, the way he was measuring the risk, the pull of you against the walls he was trying to keep intact. It'd been months of this. You were relentless. His scowl deepened, but he didn't pull away. He let the silence stretch, your words simmering between you like a match lit, waiting to catch fire.

And then, a nod.

Barely there, just a sharp dip of his head, almost as if he didn't want to acknowledge it himself. You couldn't tell if it was for you, or some silent permission he was giving himself, a final surrender to the pull that neither of you could fight.

"Room of Requirement," he said, vibrating with the tension that still hummed in the air. "Ten minutes."

Your stomach leapt into your throat, every bone in your body suddenly weak. After a moment that felt as though it went on forever, you nodded, and he took another step back.

"Ten minutes." You repeated.

"Ten minutes." He confirmed, before turning and heading out of the ballroom.