#tactical takeaway

[coachtfd]

Tactical Takeaway:

The tactical awareness and game intelligence of the Spanish players are amazing. The ball hadn’t even gone halfway to Bellingham and he had three players converging on him fast. 🧐🤯

[aparticularbandit]

The art style for MIO looks so much like Child of Light. I love it.

[corpsebrigadier]

Another day of just really loving how Wiegraf's arc is about a powerless man degrading himself in his pursuit of power: how he moves from physically intimidating/assaulting his own men in the name of a good cause to attacking defenseless clerics in the name of a bad cause to becoming the monster in the game most remembered for its excess of strength.

Loving too how that contrasts with Zalbag's story of a powerful man who constantly refuses to seize responsibility and confront the escalating injustices around him until he becomes the monster in the game best remembered for its lack of agency.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Hey I heard that song on tiktok I think-

[notjustjavierpena]

Nerf

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: There’s a little background to this. Sweet @sawymredfox posted a picture in an inbox that I can’t remember who belonged to but the picture was of a Nerf gun with a note asking for a gunfight over dinner. This one's for you, Wym! 

Summary: Hubby returns from work to a Nerf gunfight over takeaway privileges. Luckily, he has tactical training and quite the appetite.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic bliss, fluff, pregnant reader, javi loves and worships his wife, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, rough piv sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Word count: 4.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57685981

Nerf

Javier comes home to his apartment like always on a Friday afternoon, fiddling around with his bundle of keys that he fishes out from his pocket to find the one to the front door all the while carrying his work bag in his other hand. He has planned a date night with you tonight and has been excited about it since Monday morning when you suggested it over breakfast. He cannot wait to see you in your shared home, already grinning from ear to ear at the idea of giving his wife a long kiss as you discuss the movie choices you’ve rented at the local Blockbuster. He doesn’t really care about what you insist on watching, easily distracted by you anyway as you watch your movie with curious eyes. He’s more interested in the food that you are going to eat, hooked on the idea of ordering greasy Chinese food to share with each other. 

When he finally gets the door open, the apartment is dead quiet and the noise of Javier throwing his keys on the side table echoes through the hallway. 

“Honey?” He calls out but you don’t reply. 

He takes one step forward only to hear the sound of cheap plastic scraping across the floorboards. He furrows his brow and looks down, noticing the toy gun with a sticky note attached to it. He sets down his bag by the shoe rack and bends down to pick the gun up. 

It’s a Nerf gun, more specifically a poor imitation of an automatic weapon. He checks the magazine and sees that it is full, loads it again, and only then reads the note sticking to it. 

Husband, 

Welcome home. I’m hiding in the apartment with a Nerf gun. Here is the other one… The winner decides what takeaway we’re having for dinner. 

May the odds be ever in your favor,

Your wife

A grin spreads on his face, his senses heightened now that he knows you are watching him from somewhere.

As he pockets the note with as little noise as possible, he smirks with determination and thinks that you have no idea who you are up against. He secures his grip on the toy gun, remembering his tactical training from Colombia, and moves silently through the doorway to the living room. 

He scans the space with his heart beating in his ears but where he expects you to jump out from somewhere, maybe behind the couch where you’ll be relaxing later, he finds nothing. He takes silent footsteps across the wooden floorboards, knowing which creak, as he makes his way through the small space, checking behind the curtain by pulling it open with the tip of the rifle. Not there either. 

“I’m coming for you, esposa (wife),” he tells you tauntingly when he makes a left into the kitchen. You’re usually more into pizza, stringy with cheese and topped with mushrooms, but he really wants that goddamn chow mein from just around the corner. He tightens his grip, on a mission.

He inches forward to see if you are underneath the breakfast table with a cloth that you bought at a flea market a few months back. He didn’t think it would fit the rest of the furniture in the apartment but you insisted, and you were right. He loves the mismatched chairs surrounding its slightly quirky pattern now, pulling one out to make sure you really aren’t underneath the tablecloth by quickly lifting it and aiming.

The kitchen is completely empty, he decides, unless you are hiding in the refrigerator which he seriously doubts. Despite this, the silence is thick with impending doom and he takes a deep breath to steady himself, not about to lose to a person with no experience in the field. He listens carefully, taking a few steps back and suddenly a Nerf dart flies past his ear. 

He whirls around, having noticed the slight movement just in time. And there you are, right in the doorway to the kitchen with a huge, beaming smile on your face, gun pointed at him, and wearing nothing but your white cotton underwear. He fails to concentrate on anything else except your gorgeous body, the only one in this whole world that he has worshiped multiple times and hasn’t lost interest in. He smiles at the sight of your baby bump that has just started to grow round and the way your panties’ elastic band sits across it. However, you play unfairly, a Nerf dart suddenly making its way toward him. 

He manages to duck it, hearing it hit the kitchen cabinets behind him with a soft thud before clattering to the floor. He raises his gun and you squeal with delight, turning on your heel, and running through your shared home. He fires a few darts in your direction without hesitation but none of them get you and you’re gone again. 

“Nice try, baby!” You laugh triumphantly. He follows the sound of your voice, your padding feet, and your giggles that elevate his heartbeat with indescribable warmth and happiness. They lead him to the bedroom, steadily creeping along the walls until he nudges the door open with his foot, gun at the ready. 

He guesses that you’ve stepped into the closet where his shirts hang because you won’t have had time to roll underneath the bed. He makes his way across the floor and swings the door open only to find nothing but his old clothes. He furrows his brow but then tenses up at the thrilling feeling of the tip of your gun poking into his back. He smirks to himself. 

“Hah!” You exclaim with glee, “Isn’t this a surprise? I can’t believe I won!”

His smile becomes more mischievous. You haven’t shot him yet, too arrogant to think that you won’t have to because he’ll surrender. Too bad for you that he is a stubborn man who loves you just a little more than anyone else before him. It’s enough to not let you win as you love it the most. 

In a flurry of tactical decisions and moves, he manages to whip around and grab the gun to fling it out of your hands. It falls to the floor with a clatter and your eyes widen. It dawns on you that you have noticed his plan too late and you end up with a Nerf dart hitting you square in the chest. 

“Gotcha!” Javier celebrates. 

You stumble back dramatically, clutching frantically at your chest after impact to earn a genuine laugh from your husband. You end up on the floor and Javier steps forward to stand with a leg on either side of you. 

“Do you stand down, soldier?” Javier asks, imitating the sound of reloading. When he aims at your chest again, you hold your hands up in mock surrender. 

“Fine, you win take away privileges,” you giggle but still try to reach out for his gun. 

Javier drops to his knees, getting comfortable on your thighs while you start to squirm, “You’re not very convincing, wife.”

“I’m being completely genuine, husband,” you reassure and accidentally push up into him, the slightest friction against his jeans making him feel a stir of desire in the length of his cock. 

Just when you try to reach for his gun again, he throws it next to the other and thus out of your reach. He leans down over you, hovering over your pouting face, and kisses your lips, “You really thought you could beat me so easily? Chica tonta (silly girl).”

The exhilarating feeling of your little game has left him clouded by thoughts of you. His eyes start to wander down your figure, his yearning for you that’s been building since he left in the morning making him unable to stop them. Your chest rises and falls a little quicker underneath his greedy gaze. Your breasts are more full than usual because of the baby growing inside of you and you look so stunning sprawled out on the floor at his mercy that he can’t help but let his hands wander as well.

You arch up to catch his lips in a tantalizing kiss that leaves him short of breath. Warmth thrums underneath his skin, a result of your heat radiating through him even as his fingertips only ghost down towards your waist and stomach. Your skin is electric, soft to the touch, and glowing just right because you are pregnant. 

“Javi,” you breathe softly as your hands come up to tangle in his hair, messing it up after he has had it under control the whole day. He nods but doesn’t keep his mouth on yours, instead lets the tip of his nose trail over your cheek and down your jaw whilst leaving kisses on your trembling neck as he descends. 

“I missed you all day,” he whispers, nibbling and kissing your skin until a thin sheen of spit runs down the pulsing vein along your throat. When he reaches your belly, beautiful and pregnant, he presses several kisses all over the growing bump while listening to you sigh with contentment. He smiles into your skin, briefly resting his cheek on you to look up at your face, “How have you both been today?” 

“We’ve been good,” you hum and run your hand through his hair, flattening it down again by pushing it back as you caress the top of his head, “We’ve missed you though. They’ve been moving around a bit but I think they’ve gone to sleep now… all that running around.” 

“Lots of privacy for us then,” he teases. He shifts positions, scooting backward until he is kneeling between your legs. He pecks your belly repeatedly, “You just sleep, bebito (little baby) while I take care of your pretty mamá.”

“What do you have planned?” You ask, wiggling your hips to try and get comfortable on the hard floor. He smirks at you and crawls forward to yank at the covers on the bed, pulling them far enough off the mattress until the pillows follow. He helps you to lift your pelvis up so he can scoot the soft pillow underneath your hips and then does the same with your head. 

“Can I eat this sweet little pussy, mamá?” He asks, finally kneeling in position again and watching you plant your feet on the ground by bending your knees. His own knees are hurting slightly but he ignores it because he knows he’ll forget it once he gets lost in your cunt.  

“Please,” you swallow thickly after a hitched breath. You nod eagerly with that little expression on your face that he loves when you’re getting treated for simply being the love of his life; all softened features, mouth slightly open, and pleading eyes watching as he goes down. 

Gently, he puts his palms on the back of your warm thighs and pushes your legs towards your chest, enjoying seeing you in the same position that he put that baby inside of you while he still can. You follow his movements without protest, keeping them there while he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. 

“You want it?” He asks while dragging the fabric down over your hips as you nod repeatedly, snapping it slightly from how you barely register that you have to cooperate. He laughs as you do, a tiny giggle escaping you as you hold your legs up with your hands under your knees when he slips the underwear off your feet and tosses it to the side. 

Your pussy is on display for him like this, your pushed-together thighs and your ass slightly elevated from the pillow making it stick out even more. You squeeze around your calves to hold your position and he can see your dripping slit quiver, inviting him in to squish his head between your thighs. 

He flattens his tongue to lick a long, greedy stripe from the cleft of your ass to your clit, feeling you pulse in excitement as he finally touches you with his mouth. He groans at your sweet taste, repeating the move to concentrate on gulping down some of your slick like he hasn’t had a drink all day and Texan summer is peaking. You make him so hard in his jeans that it hurts, the length of his cock straining against the zipper as your sweet scent fills his nostrils. As he eats you out slowly and hears you sigh with pleasure above him, he agrees with himself that he’ll fuck you too. He thought this would be enough but no, you look perfect, swollen and warm below him and he doesn’t want to go through this late afternoon without feeling your heat around his cock. 

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp the way you do when your orgasm starts to tug from within you. He stops only using the tip of his tongue to be more forceful in his treatment. He covers your mound with his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks at your clit to hear you whine a mhmm…

You gush a little wetness when he releases you briefly, a drop of it sliding down between your cheeks so it accidentally wets the pillow you’re writhing on. Javier doesn’t care right now, will just throw everything in the washer later. He kisses your clit a few times before going in again, this time pressing his tongue against you to wiggle it against your clit that’s now hard from how turned on you are. 

There’s a climb in your pitch, a little higher moan coming out your mouth as he starts to let small flicks of his tongue rain down on your gorgeous clit. He concentrates on getting you there, heart beating in his ears but still managing to listen to your heaving breaths, notice your palms tighten around your legs as you channel the intensity into whatever you can and feel your hips involuntarily move so he has to grab the widest part of your thighs and hold you in place. 

When you start to hold your breath after a particularly long whine, he pulls away to stop your orgasm with the excuse that he has to breathe. You look down at him, releasing your grip around your knees to let your thighs fall out to the sides. You look frustrated, your racing heartbeat evident from the way your pussy pulses in a steady rhythm. 

“I hate you,” you say through gritted teeth, hips lifting off the pillow for just a moment as you chase something, anything to no avail.

“No, you don’t, Mamacita, not with what I’m about to do to you,” he grins, eyes glued to your glistening slit, watching the shine of his own spit covering your delicate skin. He grabs your ankles to plant your feet on the floor like you’d done briefly earlier, only to slide his hands upward over your shins, knees, and thighs until they sit on your hips. He gropes your jiggly thighs for a second, watching his movements vibrate all the way up to your bra-covered tits. They jump a little and he knows he has never seen anything so perfect, catching his hungry eyes and attention for a little too long. When he wants to smirk at you, he sees your pouty face and chuckles, “Alright, I’ll hurry up. Gotta give you what you want when dinner isn’t your call.”

You bite your bottom lip as he descends on your cunt again, tensing up the muscle of his tongue to lick a long stripe between your soaked folds. He moans when your hands find his hair, tugging gently on the follicles of his scalp. When he dares glance up at your writhing body, he can only see your tensed-up jaw as you have thrown your head back.

“Fuck, Javi,” you whine, “F-fingers. Make me come on your fingers, please.”

He can definitely do that. He lets his dominant hand slide down between your legs while he holds himself up with the other one on your hip, keeping your pelvis down as he sucks hard on your clit. Two of his fingers enter you and curl toward the front of your walls, seeming to have a direct line to your spine because you arch your back with a groan. 

Javier hums with pride, fucking you open on his digits whilst hollowing his cheeks around your clit. He drags the pads of his fingers over your g-spot again and again, hearing how your breathing speeds up once more and feeling your heartbeat as you rhythmically start to clench around his middle- and ring finger. He doesn’t have to look, is simply driven crazy by the mere thought of the finger that he wears his wedding band on disappearing into you over and over. 

“I’m coming,” you announce with a cry, barely able to catch your breath at this point. You tug harsher on his hair, pushing your hips up to earn more friction, “I’m gonna come, baby. Fuck, you’re making me come.”

Javier bobs his head slightly as he nips and sucks and licks, moving his fingers inside of you almost frantically to get the reward that he so desperately wants and needs. You squeeze your eyes shut, thighs tensing up and then go completely silent above him for less than a few seconds. 

You come with a high-pitched squeal a moment later, pussy going off into rapid spasms that choke his fingers but not enough for him to stop dragging them out while they curl upward. He releases his mouth from your pulsing clit, withdrawing his head from between your thighs so your arms fall to the floor. You gush all over his hand which he doesn’t manage to pull away, twisting your gorgeous body in surprise as you practically wet yourself on the floor. He tightens his grip on you to keep you on your back, hearing you sob with pleasure as he sinks his fingers knuckles-deep into you again and repeats the move. 

Another gush soaks the floorboards and you are practically levitating by now, enough for Javier to be sure that he has made up for the fact that his pregnant wife won’t get her takeout craving satisfied. He hears how it sounds in his head, knowing immediately that he should decide on that goddamn pizza if he wants to have it easy. 

He snaps out of it to go again at least three times more and when you seem like you can barely handle it anymore, he pulls back but only after a gentle peck on your swollen clit. You squirm in oversensitivity, shaking your head repeatedly while he cannot stop grinning in self-satisfaction. God, how on earth can he of all people have the privilege to make you feel so good? 

It takes a moment before your mind isn’t fogged by fireworks going off between your legs anymore and you slump on the floor with a satisfied smile on your face, a giggle bubbling up in your throat which is the most heavenly sound he has ever heard. 

“Okay?” He asks with a dazed expression, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He rubs your thigh up and down, feeling the slight dampness from the sweat and wetness of your body. 

You nod in reply, “Mhmm…”

“Made a mess on the floor,” he tells you with a hint of taunting in his voice. 

“Mhmm,” you repeat, no shame in your tone which he loves completely, “You’ll clean it up.”

“Oh, will I?” He laughs quietly at the state of you. It’s true though; he will, and as you nod once more, he is already getting up from the floor with an aching hard-on in his jeans. 

“Yes because I’ll let you fuck me when you get back,” you grin lazily, letting your thighs fall out to the sides even more to show him your wet cunt. He could skip the step where he gets a towel but you’ll complain about it later tonight if he doesn’t nip it in the bud.

He adjusts his cock in his jeans when he is on his feet and undoes the pants on the way to the bathroom, hands gripping the handle on the bathroom drawer a little too hard when he gets a towel. He slings the towel over his shoulder and pushes the fabric of his pants down over his hips, relieved when his cock is only covered by the softness of his briefs. 

When he has patted down the floorboards, just managing to do it before your come has started to soak into the wood, he throws the towel to the side and kneels between your legs again. He looks at you with longing, with a fire in him that feels as if it is getting poured gasoline over it when you look into his eyes with a mischievous grin. 

“Can I have it now, baby?” He asks politely as he pushes his briefs down, letting them sit just below his hips because it feels like too much work to undress completely when he so desperately wants to be inside of you. You nod and hold out your hands to signal that he needs to come closer, and he follows through on your silent request but only after taking a last look at the beautiful mess between your legs that he’ll push into soon. 

When he crawls over you, you unbutton his shirt to reveal his chest and touch him all over. Your delicate hands roam over the skin of his torso, fingertips sliding through the little but sexy amount of hair there until you grab around the small of his back. You pull him in, he moves closer. 

A sharp exhale leaves him as he enters you finally. You on the other hand moan shakily as he fills up every last inch of you, intruding just a little before you relax around him. Your hands slide down and your nails dig into his ass, motioning for him to start moving inside of you. 

Your head falls back when he thrusts once then twice, fucking you slowly but harshly into the floor. It’s so ridiculous to think that he only had plans to kiss you when he came home, maybe making love to you in bed after the film you definitely won’t fall asleep to. He braces himself with a hand beside your thrown-back head, leaning down over you to practically latch onto your throat. He kisses along the beautiful arch of your neck, tasting your salty skin and feeling your throat vibrate against his lips with each noise of pleasure you make. 

You bend your legs to wrap them around his hips, rocking with him as he fucks into you deeply. Your cunt is so wet and warm around him, echoing each of his groans by choking his dick just as he has come to love it after he started fucking you on the regular three years back. Here he is, happily married to you and he is going to be a father. The thought of what you two have together, what you will achieve together, makes him impossibly hard inside of you, especially when you go and do something as stupidly adorable as a Nerf gunfight. He must have you. Fantastic, sexy, beautiful you.

He rolls his hips to hear you say his name, the floor creaking underneath you as you move together. You tilt your head forward again to kiss him, slotting your mouth over his and tasting your sweat and slick on his tongue. You suck at the tip, hinting at how good you are at going down on him and he groans with how wanton you can come off. You’re not just a sweet girl like everyone says.

“There! Oh fuck, th-there,” you break the kiss to yell out for him as he hits an angle that wasn’t even deliberate, the noise bouncing off the walls. The little old lady who lives downstairs from you will be banging on the door tomorrow, gone before you can answer and having left a cheerful yet unhappy note that starts. It's so nice that you enjoy each other. Javier thinks it’s more than nice. 

“Yeah? There, baby?” He does it again to piss off the whole building instead and your fingers dig into his skin with how good it is, “¿Así (like that)?”

“Sí, así (yes, like that),” you sob, your cunt squeezing his dick with how you have another high incoming. He seeks out your lips again but you are busy; your eyes are squeezed shut in concentration on your pleasure and your mouth hangs open as moan after moan leaves it, so he settles for a desperate bite to your jaw. 

“I love you,” he says as clearly as he can muster, his own orgasm creeping up on him as he spears you again and again. He moves a little to go harder and faster, his pace slowly increasing until you need to hold onto him to not go upwards on the floor with the strength behind his hips. You slide your hands up his back, nails scratching in their wake until you pull him into your arms. God, he feels so good and safe when you do that. You are both sweaty, chests sticking slightly to each other from how much effort you are putting into being together like this. 

“I love you too, esposo (husband),” you whimper feebly and tighten your legs around him to keep him where you want him the most. He can hear you are close in the way your breaths fall from your lips. 

“Come for me,” he whispers with a hot breath against your ear that has you shivering on top of everything else, “Por favor, mi amor. Quiero sentirte (Please, my love. I wanna feel you).”

His words send you there, your sounds send him there. You come with a pained noise and then a string of moans, your brows furrowed as your cunt goes off into spasms that he relishes in. They pull his own high from him, his muscles tightening before pleasure washes over him as he fills you up with his spill. It is accompanied by a guttural groan that makes you clench around him just when he thought it was over. He cannot control his hips as he feels it. His pace, albeit slowing down, gets uneven until it comes to a complete halt. 

Eventually, he rolls off of you. The both of you groan as he pulls out, and he immediately reaches for the towel which you place between your legs. He turns his head towards you when you do and as you gain eye contact, the both of you laugh in post-orgasmic bliss. 

You scoot closer by wiggling your entire body. You also decide to share the pillow under your head with him, pulling into the space between you. 

When you rest a hand on your baby bump, he reaches to hold it. Your breaths fall in sync with no need to say anything until you have the energy. 

When that time comes, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, “So.”

“So?” He asks and pulls up his underwear. 

“What did I lose to?” You elaborate while he buttons and zips his jeans. 

“Chinese,” he replies and tries to suppress his excitement in case you start pouting. Instead, you laugh out loud. 

“What? Why’s that funny?” He probably looks confused. 

“I wanted Chinese,” you clarify with continuous giggles. 

“Oh,” he joins in and chuckles, “You never want Chinese.”

“The baby wants Chinese,” you pat your belly with your other hand.

“Must be my kid,” he smirks and rolls onto his side. He pecks your cheek repeatedly. 

“Must be,” you turn your head to kiss him but it doesn’t quite feel enough. So he kisses you again, squeezing the hand on your pregnant belly as he does it and when you giggle against his mouth, it seems like the whole reason he was put on Earth is to do all of this and what’s to come with you.

.

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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[thatrandomblogsays]

Me: *reading a post that makes the joke “Peeta dropped the baby bomb, Gale drops bombs on babies”* haha good one

Also me: you’re missing the point! You’re missing the point! YOURE MISSING THE POINT! He grew up starving. His best friend almost died of hunger. Most of his people live in poverty. He watched children die in a bloodbath every year for the capital’s entertainment. The girl he loved went into the games. Was tortured by the capitol. His district was bombed out of existence. Nearly everyone he knew was killed. Their only crime was being fed up of being hungry and oppressed and sharing the same district as Katniss. All those innocent people. Murdered. He had to take refuge in a district that was bombed out of existence and forced to live underground. Of course he joined the war effort. Of course he designed unethical bombs and battle tactics. He wanted revenge. He wanted the capitol to have a taste of their own medicine. He wanted the rebellion to succeed. And tell me you could live through what he did, and that no part of you would be screaming for Justice and vengeance. Gale is you. You are Gale. He represents a part of feelings and actions that reside within us, even if you don’t act on it.

“But he killed prim!” Exactly! Gale loved prim. She was a second family to her. He looked after Katniss’ family. He saved them from the district 12 bombings. He loved her. He never would’ve put her in danger. He never would’ve put in order for a bombing if it would kill Prim. But coin would. And did. She took what was meant to be a tool of Gale’s righteous revenge for all the suffering he and his people suffered through, only for someone in power to take it and use it to kill someone he loved.

There’s some many lessons to take. We can’t control the things we create. War spares no one. Even justifiable rage and actions can end up rebounding and hurting those you love instead of your targets.

“He drops bombs on babies” is too simplistic of a takeaway and does a disservice to the story and Gale.

[elizabethrobertajones]

My main takeaway about the jobs demonstration (which I watched on the exercise bike at the gym because this is a completely normal thing to do) is that almost every job has an effect which looks like you're calling in some sort of strike from orbit. However, I think the MCH one may not be metaphorical. I think Stephanivien is launching tactical satellites.

[booasaur]

When I wrote this loooong recap of the recent French elections, I ended up seeing a lot of people's takeaways for the US election, namely: Voooote!

And that is what I said as well, but I think a lot of people ignored the other part that made as much of a difference:

It was NOT just voting that avoided a far-right takeover, it was ALSO the less electable candidates dropping out. Voting AND tactics.

If you took any lessons from the French elections, take them both and take heart. This is good. We can win this.

[esoanem]

Important takeaways from the US election that should actually bring you hope

Trump did not get more votes than in 2020

This election was lost because the Democrats lost votes the Republicans (and third parties) did not pick up

This makes it clear that there are election-winning numbers of people who do not feel catered to by either party

There are significant numbers of people further left than the Democrats, and of the Democrats actually decide to appeal to them (the people who previously voted Democrat but didn't this time) they can win again

The bad news is that I suspect the Democrats will continue to look only at exit polls and so consider those who didn't vote a lost cause, something that will inevitably lead to them moving right in a doomed attempt to "appeal to the center" (which has basically never worked as a tactic). I have some further analysis on this topic, and how people are misinterpreting exit poll data (in ways that align with the conclusions the DNC always draws after electoral losses) here

Politics does not start and end at the ballot box

You need to get involved now to try and force them to listen to the actual evidence and move left, not just because that is the moral thing to do, but because it is what will make them able to win an election (which is all the DNC actually cares about)

That means things like joining your local DSA chapter (for all I have issues with them), and actually participating in the internal party politics of the Democratic party

It also means showing up for local elections & primaries and vocally supporting leftwing candidates over establishment Democrats

[coachtfd]

Tactical Takeaway:

This is the value of the modern goalkeeper. You don’t struggle with trying to play through a possession-based team because you bypass the midfield completely. Perfectly aimed long balls put the opposition on the back foot and disrupt the back line. It allows them to keep their plays simple and dangerously effective. Love what South Africa is doing right now, I think they can equalize and go on to win if they keep this up.

[runawaymun]

Two takeaways right now that I really cannot stress enough: 1) We cannot afford to keep spouting the "The American public is fucking stupid" and "Republicans are dumb and uneducated" rhetoric. I have already seen a new resurgence in the past 24 hours. Yes, it's true: One in five Americans are functionally illiterate. Many of them live in states like New Mexico and Mississippi, below the poverty line, with underfunded educational institutions, and very little access to resources to help them. A staggering amount of USAmericans read below a sixth grade level. This is not a moral failing. This is not their fault. This is a societal failing, an infrastructure failing. We've been failing the rust belt for decades and it's only getting worse. And it does not help our cause if we continue to turn up our noses and say they're all stupid cousin-kissing hillbillies who deserve what they're getting. That only helps Trump. That is how we got here. The division only helps the people in power to keep up the grift. As long as we continue to disparage and underestimate working people from the Midwest and the American South, we will continue to lose. They are tired of being condescended to, and that is why they like Trump. He at least pretends (badly, but he at least pretends) that he cares about their interests.

Remember this bit of propaganda?

All the way back from 1754?

We have to stop fighting each other. We cannot afford to continue saying 'Trumpers are stupid and hateful and uneducated' and continue this us-against-them mentality. It is JUST as bad as my Midwestern parents who say that Democrats are evil satanic child-killing communists. I grew up steeped in that environment. I fully believed it. Many people are just as scared as you are. They are working with the information they have. They believe they are doing the right thing, just as you do. They are watching their communities literally disintegrate and the only person that promises to bring them jobs is Donald Fucking Trump. And he is employing every propaganda tactic in the book to grift them. A big part of the lies the Republican party loves to spout is that they're persecuted and they're underdogs -- I grew up in this environment. It stems from an Evangelical worldview that to be righteous is to be persecuted. Disparaging these people, insulting them, condescending them, only feeds this narrative. The only way I got out of this mentality was by having access to community college, meeting kind people outside my bubble who were willing to have a conversation with me, and finally getting education that wasn't steeped in evangelical propaganda.

I invite you all to go and watch Megan Phelps-Roper's TEDtalk (or read her book, it's excellent) about how she left her family's cult. The only thing that broke through that fog of 'We are persecuted and therefore righteous' was when people stopped throwing cups of hot liquid and piss at her (when she was a child!), and started being kind and empathetic. We all can stand to learn a lot from stories like hers. The second that evil god-hating people started being kind to her was the second she began to question everything she'd been taught.

Yes, it's very easy to look at these people spewing hateful rhetoric and label them as evil. But they're not. The people exploiting all of us are evil. The people exploiting fear and division are evil. We need to call for accountability with news outlets, to fund grass-roots efforts to give adults with educational gaps access to help. Many of them simply could not continue going to school because their families were impoverished and they had to work so they could fucking eat. Many of them have undiagnosed disabilities because they do not have insurance to even go to a doctor. To be ignorant is not a moral failing. Willful ignorance? Absolutely. But ignorance, no. The only thing we can do now is be kind, invite people into discussion, and remember that the only enemy is the oppressor in power who views everybody as pawns and dollar signs. We are all the same to them.

2) Please do not fall into the trap of thinking this means that your vote does not count. Voting is more important than ever. You need to vote in your local elections. You need to. The Senate and the House are the lawmakers and the people in charge of declaring war. They have term limits. They are not untouchable. They are the only people now who are capable of checking Trump. And your local mayors, councils, etc are the people who are going to make the real difference between public healthcare, good education, censorship, civil rights, housing, etc. States have an immense amount of freedom to operate. That is how I have access to incredible free healthcare in mine. That is how we have one of the best public transit systems in the country. That is how we placed penalties on industries and got rid of smog and heavy pollution in the 70s. That is how we have gay bars and drag brunches and well-funded libraries. That is all local-government stuff. If you want your communities to change, you HAVE to vote locally. Please, please, please do not give up and think your vote doesn't matter. It does. It matters immensely.

[yallthemwitches]

Predatory in Nature

“No actually mate, it's ok—really, don’t worry about me. I’ll just never forget that my best mate, my brother in arms, my fellow marauder, betrayed me for Lily Evans’ sweet fanny—”

Today and tomorrow will be a double dose of some Sirius antics mixed with some fluff. Written for @jilytoberfest day 17: "It's cute when your face gets red like that."

AO3 Here

“Evans.”

She knows that sing-song voice from anywhere. Sirius Black lopes his way across the common room to take the seat across from her, grin looking downright sadistic in nature. 

“Yes Black?” When she doesn’t look up from her parchment, he leans down onto his folded arms, craning his head to force eye contact upwards at her bowed head.

“I’m feeling very perturbed and I need you to assuage my fears.”

Lily tries to keep writing but he plucks the quill out of her hand, throwing it behind his shoulder. 

“The fuck.” He ignores her annoyance, eyes setting into a firm stare. 

“Are you snogging James?”

The room temperature increases and Lily now feels the sudden sensation that she is being hunted for sport. 

“No–”

“Ok–Are you shagging James?”

Lily sputters, cheeks going rosy. “N-No.”

Of course the real answer is yes on both counts. A loud resounding one. It had been months of build-up, hours spent skiving off the last part of her patrols to lock themselves in various empty classrooms and passages, safely undiscovered from the comfort of darkness. But like the slow march of time, this moment was inevitable: that Sirius, the angel of death of all discretion, would come calling with suspicion. 

He leans further against the table top. “You sure about that?”

She scoffs knowing well that her body language is betraying her. To cover, she tries to rip her parchment out from under him, but he smacks his hand down against it, not swayed by her antics.  

“It’s cute how your cheeks get red like that when you're lying. So—once more for emphasis: are you or are you not snogging and/or shagging James Fleamont Potter—really dig deep here Evans.”

She leans back in her chair, eyes looking down at her lap. Of course he already knew the answer. This interrogation was just a formality—probably for his amusement more than anything else. Still, there was no use fighting it. She had been silly to even try.  

“Maybe,” her voice teeters off, hands fiddling with the ends of her hair. “A little?”

Sirius blinks. “A little?”

She breaks, his whittling down of her defenses an annoyingly effective tactic. 

“A lot! Alright, Black? You happy?” She gestures wildly into the air, face flushed. 

“Son of a bitch.”

Lily starts to open her mouth, ready to capitulate, but he cuts her off, running a hand down his face.

“I mean—what an absolute tosspot—I didn’t want to believe Remus but—.”

“Wait–excuse me?” Lily drops all exasperation to squint at Sirius, absolutely confused. She expected lots of things from his discovery of her and James' relationship, but anger was not one of them. 

“I mean, this is just rich—that bloody traitor, I mean this really stings.”

Lily stares at him, watching as Sirius shakes his head in discontent, running his hands through his hair. Her whole face is devoid of color, feeling like her body has gone numb.

“Sirius—if this is some god awful way of saying you fancy me—”

Sirius rears his head up, eyes maniacal. 

“No Evans!—stop being egotistical and fucking keep up—”

He slams his hands onto the desk, before lowering his head as well, his long hair shrouding his face.

“James is keeping secrets—from me!” He says, voice like an animal that has been kicked by its owner. Lily blinks at him but she can’t hold back the laughter that bubbles up from her chest, keeling over. Sirius lifts his head up to watch her through his hair, face twisted in a scowl. 

“It’s not funny, Evans! This is serious!”

“You are completely mental–” Lily chokes out between breaks in laughter. “That is your takeaway from this?”

“What? You think I care if you are banging my mate? I mean, I’m happy he’s getting laid and it’s you but—,” he puts his head back in his hands, “why in the fuck would he keep it from me…”

The portrait hole swings open and like a sixth sense, both Sirius and Lily’s necks crane to watch James enter. He is still sweaty and out of breath from quidditch and he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the two of them, eyes darting from one to the other as though he needs no further information to know what is going on. 

Sirius wastes no time jumping to his feet and stalking towards him, finger guiding him until he is poking it into James’ chest. 

“First of all, how bloody dare you.” James looks down at Sirius' finger and frowns before casting a pleading, withered look at Lily.

“Pads I–”

“You didn’t think I’d find out? Me? You know, your best mate who also happens to have access to–” his voice gets lower, hissing, “--a certain artifact that lets me know what you are up to?”

James stares at his mate, mouth a perfect o. Sirius pulls away and slowly stumbles back, waving a hand dismissively in the air. 

“No actually mate, it's ok—really, don’t worry about me. I’ll just never forget that my best mate, my brother in arms, my fellow marauder, betrayed me for Lily Evans’ sweet fanny—”

“Black!” Lily stood up, hackles now raised and bounding for him. “Leave him alone, I told him to keep it quiet.”

Sirius looks down at her with wide eyes, mouth hanging ajar. 

“You did wha—what is wrong with you? Why’d you do that?”

“Because if you knew then—then I dunno…” she teeters off but Sirius waits, expecting answers.

 Something starts brimming under her eyes, and she loses all the momentum she had moments ago, feeling sidelined by emotion. 

“If we told people, it would make it real, you know?”

Both boys stand in stunned silence.

“You don’t want it to be real?” James' voice is barely above a whisper. There is a sudden shift in the room, all of Sirius’ dramatics floating into the background.

Lily staggers towards him, cheeks ruddy. “No—that’s not what I mean. It’s just—we haven’t been talking about it and I’ve been happy when I’m with you—but if we were just mucking around for a laugh…I didn’t want to rock the boat and make this more of something than it is.” She knows she’s babbling, perhaps incomprehensible,“you know—assume you still wanted something more—” 

James steps forward, putting his hands on Lily’s crossed arms. 

“Lily, there is nothing, no one that could make me want to stop doing whatever it is we are doing together,” he pleads, “I’ll keep it a secret forever—I’ll make Sirius too if that's what it takes.” His voice is firm and he reaches for her cheek. “I want…everything with you.”

“Then why did you stop trying to ask me out? You know– properly.”

She doesn’t know how this conversation devolved to this point, how Sirius’ whole friendship infidelity act could have led her to say the thing she wanted to say to him for months now, but here she was, eyes feeling glassy.

“You wanted us to be a secret,” James whispers.

“Yeah, but maybe I want other things now.” Tears are rimming her eyes but James reaches her before they can fall. She lets him wrap her into his chest, nuzzling her nose into his jersey which smells sweetly of his sweat. 

“So you want to? I mean—will you? Go out with me? In public?”

She looks up from his shirt. A grin has broken through his face like a burst of light. 

“Yeah—I would.” 

He presses his lips to hers, still smiling but hungry for her all the same. The world drops away and she feels their hands start to wrap to familiar places when a long whistle cuts through their small bubble of happiness. 

Sirius now sat on top of the back of the sofa. All of the anger, the sadness, the betrayal he had so woefully lamented about earlier now wiped from his being. Instead, a devious air wafted off of him, grinning with the satisfaction of a mission accomplished. 

“Wow–finally. Godric you two are so thick, at the rate you were going, you would have had a whole litter of children before going to Hogsmeade.” He flashes smirk, swinging his torso back and forth with playful ease.

“Sirius–” James warns, but Sirius’ barking laugh cuts through. 

“When you’re married with little baby Prongs’, I hope you look back on this moment and remember I did this,” he plops his feet on the floor, starting for the dorms. The couple track his movements, now aware they are captives in an elaborate trap. “Also, I expect a glowing account of my acting ability to Remus and Peter. They didn’t think I could pull it off. What tossers—I mean honestly.”

[itacats]

2 Lines Means Positive (mini-series)

FT: Gaz x reader

Warnings: pregnancy, worries about the future/not being good enough, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: And that’s a wrap on this mini-series! I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this journey. From the first part to the very last, your support and excitement have meant the world to me. It’s been a joy to share these stories with you. Here’s to new adventures and more stories ahead—see you in the next one!

SUM: Gaz finds himself at a turning point, far from the chaos of his soldier’s life, in the quiet of his London apartment. When you reveal you’re expecting, his world shifts, leaving him facing an unexpected, profound mission: fatherhood.

Simon Riley Soap MacTavish John Price

A New Mission

In the peaceful quiet of their small London apartment, Gaz found a rare sense of calm that had taken years to create. Remnants of a shared takeaway sat on the coffee table, your favorite curry half-finished, and the steady drizzle of rain tapped against the window. Gaz leaned back on the couch, his heavy boots propped up, his gaze lingering over the familiar scene. The domestic tranquility stood in stark contrast to his life on the battlefield, and it was something he held close, a safe space built with his partner—you.

You emerged from the kitchen, drying your hands, framed by the soft overhead light. Gaz watched you, charmed by your ease and the way you lit up the room with a single smile. The walls, simple yet warm, were decorated with memories—each photo, each trinket telling stories of laughter, intimacy, and all the quiet moments he had come to cherish. But tonight, there was something different in your eyes, a depth he couldn’t quite place, and it made him instinctively sit up.

“Gaz,” you started, your voice calm but carrying an unusual weight. “I need to tell you something.”

His heart quickened, a reflex honed by years of bracing for the unexpected. Was this another emergency? A complication? His mind sharpened, instincts ready for any crisis.

“What’s up, love?” he replied, watching you closely as you approached, sitting beside him on the couch armrest.

“I’m… I’m pregnant.” The words fell softly, yet they filled the room, resonating in the silence that followed. Gaz felt his heart stall, and time seemed to freeze around him. Pregnant.

It was a word that held worlds within it, worlds he hadn’t prepared for. There was no strategy or tactical playbook to guide him through the uncertainty. His lips tugged into a smile, but beneath it, an array of emotions churned—excitement, disbelief, even fear. His mind, so accustomed to split-second decisions, grappled with this new reality and the unfamiliar stakes.

“Are you okay?” you asked gently, your hand covering his as you felt the tension in his grip.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just…” He turned to face you fully, searching your expression for the certainty he often felt from you in even the most challenging moments. “I didn’t see this coming.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, a nervous but genuine smile lighting your face. “But we can do this.”

For Gaz, it was a revelation—an image of a life he had always wanted but never dared imagine. Visions of late-night feedings, tiny socks scattered around the house, and laughter echoing off the walls swam through his mind. Life on deployment had always been an excuse, an obstacle to this kind of future. Yet here it was, right in front of him, a promise of something deeper, something he had never truly known.

“What if I’m not ready? What if I’m not good enough?” he whispered, his voice edged with vulnerability he rarely revealed.

“Good enough doesn’t mean we won’t have our struggles,” you replied, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It means learning together, being there for each other. We’re a team, Gaz. Always.”

Your faith planted a seed within him, a quiet, growing hope. Gaz had spent years in conflict zones, bearing the scars and stories of war, but as he sat beside you, he realized that love was a different kind of battlefield. One he was ready to fight for, one that felt like home.

He looked at you, a gentle smile forming as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You really think we can?”

“I believe in us. Just like I have from the beginning.”

Gaz exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and felt the room expand, as though it had opened to a new future. He settled back with you on the couch, fingers entwined, listening to the rain’s gentle rhythm. Gaz stared ahead, his mind now alive with possibilities, with dreams of a child who would fill their home with joy and innocence.

Together, he realized, you were ready for this next chapter—this new mission. And with your love as his guide, Gaz, once hardened by the weight of the world, felt a different kind of strength grow within him, one fueled by hope and the promise of a life together.

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

[byemambo]

4Minutes EP. 5 - My Takeaways

I'm back! I hope everyone is doing well and recovering from what happened this episode. BIG WARNING: I hacked the system (while happily creating more work for myself /lh) and made my own photo layouts to maximize the 30 image cap so I'm not sure how long this post will be but at least it's reference heavy!

The full analysis is under the cut to not spoil it for those who haven't watched yet :O

We start the episode off with Title's downfall and now in the hands of Tonkla, drawing connections in the supposed timeline dependent on whether Dome is dead or alive. Since the main story has funneled its way in solidifying the passing of Dome, we now are given the opportunity to watch Tonkla's revenge plot play out. My main question is wondering what Win will do once he is confronted with Tonkla, either through initiating that interrogation himself or look out for signs and gather evidence since they're now living together. But this is only if Win chooses his morals over his own vices, which will be one of the main points I wanted to cover today :)

Confrontation vs. Compliance: The Return to Ethics

As we've seen in the released episodes, there has been a wide range of how Tyme and Great approach life and its circumstances. Although both of them are introverted in nature, we can see their differences most through Tyme's guarded personality marked with tactical execution side by side with Great's impulsivity and kind hearted nature bursting with a strong sense of duty and justice. Tyme's pivotal life circumstances caused him to become detached and absentminded in his every day living, only giving his true self away to his grandmother and holding the strongest bond with her. Great on the other hand, entered the main family circle once Korn's mother passed and Great's mother, the mistress, elevated in status to be alongside both the son's father. In a sense, one person grew up with power handed to him and the other with power taken away from him, which really highlights how both of them interpret the world around them and interact with it.

Great is confronted with his most pivotal decision thus far, really putting himself to the test in challenging his passive nature for action: helping in seeking justice and accountability against his own family's corruption, which he is still wrapping his mind around since he's been told of how they affected Tyme's family along with others like Nan. I find this in contrast to the Great we first met in episode 1 to be so striking considering that the "old" Great was reckless and seemed to have little regard for his family, specifically his father, and now having to ponder on the ultimatum Tyme presents: confrontation or compliance.

Growing up in a Western culture with individualistic views in contrast to my ethnicity's Eastern culture with collectivist views, relationship with family is strong but in its respective ways. Individualism evokes a person to ground their reality in themselves and those who are an extension to them, such as immediate family members. These cultures value autonomy, personal responsibility and rarely fall to ostracization or becoming a scapegoat.

Collectivism finds strength in the prioritization of group effort and maintenance, valuing cooperation and collaboration, but easily gives into sacrificing autonomy for the sake of the group's overall success. We find such values in families who thrive off of power and exploitation, living in a "dog eat dog world." In a dynamic that feeds off of manipulation and utilizing violent or illegal methods to gain access to capital gain and status, many of these families, intentionally or by force, follow in blind faith that the head of the household dedicate themselves to these means for the sake of the family's survival, discouraging conflict and divergence within the system. Because this family involved themselves in high risk activity, tensions between them and other rivaling families and even within the family itself is kept under wraps until it's impossible to avoid.

This boiling point is best highlighted once Great begins to solidify his moral stance, which to his family interprets these actions as defiance and causes impatience and true colors to show through. Great's father uses deliberate language when his temper gets the best of him, willing to disregard familial love and affection for potential financial gain while throwing his own children under the bus after they've displayed no use to him.

Great's father has always operated on the basis of investment (he is a business man after all), which translates aspects of his life in terms of assets that have their various levels of worth and value in relation to himself and his own personal gain. Once he realizes that Great's behavior isn't simply another car accident scandal or frenzy that'll cause an uproar in the media and taint the family's reputation, he prepares himself for a point-of-no-return, already shoving aside his son and his mother and baring no relationship to them. "Get that son of yours," disconnecting himself at the point of realizing there is a chance of failure if he continues investing in this part of his family, that Great's behavior is not of his own son, a son like Korn who has set himself up for a life deeply rooted in submission. Korn represents compliance, Great represents confrontation, which reaches its peak once Samarn reveals information about Nan and her escape without Korn's permission.

Not having enough time to process and sort out his thoughts about the whole ordeal, Korn wishes to speak to Great before meeting their father, ending in Great's veil being pulled back to reveal his family's true nature.

Korn follows the footsteps of his father, falling under the guise of filial piety and familial responsibility. I spoke more on Korn's character traits in my episode 4 analysis, which has become oppressive and unyielding as he finds himself deeper and deeper in keeping the business from falling apart as it seems to be on its last leg.

I find that because Korn has witnessed the vast amount of violence and crime within this organization, he'd rather sacrifice himself to keep Great away from his eventual fate in also participating in the business. Rather than choice, it has become an obligation that has slowly consumed him whole to a point of not being able to shield his brother any longer from the main threat: their father.

Grief: A Shared Experience

Throughout the episodes, we've seen Korn beaten down by his father on almost every occasion he occupied the same room as him, to which he throws the bait by disclosing Great's involvement in Nan's escape and is instantly confronted by Great's mother defending her son. Living under a close eye by his father for most of his life, we're starting to see Korn enter a period of grief for himself and his life circumstances.

Denial when he found out Great helped Nan escape, anger when Great was defended by his mother to which his father defends her and leaving him with no one by his side (who used to be Tonkla), bargaining when Fasai proposes her offer to help him out of this situation on her own terms: marry her and stop seeing Tonkla, who was nothing more than a toy.

Depression when Korn identifies with his learned helplessness, that no matter what decision he makes, it's nothing but an illusion and he will ultimately give up something he loves. Acceptance when he agrees with her terms, and we witness a part of him that dies, the part which was dignified, ambitious, respectable and has become dishonorable, insecure, shameful. That person is no longer there, accepting his fate and making amends with his crossroad.

In contrast, we witness Great undergoing the same grieving process, but instead of grieving for the person he once was, he grieves for the family he once knew. The family who is loved and hated by many, the family who endured the death of a loved one, the family who carries enough influence within the industry that a few stories revealed by families suffering in the hands of their involvement will only make a mere dent in their reputation: this status and footing in their society means nothing to Great if the means in which all their wealth and resources caused irreparable damage to other families, to families like Tyme's.

Denial when his father refuses to accept responsibility for their family's corruption that has deeply impacted the lives of others. Anger once his finally meets eye to eye with his father and finalizes his estrangement from him.

Bargaining by his mother, who is also deeply affected by their initial status in the family as the "mistress and her child," finding any way to salvage the dire situation that will impact their lives forever due to her husband's influence and methods.

Depression once he confronts his mother with the real questions that haven't been answered with any ounce of satisfaction: who is this all for exactly? What is exactly best for me? Why does my voice not matter? Why do I not have a choice? Why am I being shamed and blamed? What are we even doing? Who exactly are we?

Acceptance once Great mourns for a brief moment that in order to save himself, he must make the painstaking decision to abandon his family, including his own mother. This sequence along with her desperate cries got to me, the pain a mother experiences when losing her child. Not only have they lost Korn, they too, lost Great. However, rather than sacrificing himself for his own self interest, he chooses to sacrifice himself to be with the one he loves, the one that he carries an indescribable pit in the stomach levels of guilt for, as his family has directly caused a lifetime of pain and suffering.

A cardiac arrest ensues once Great sees the guy with the gun in attempt to harm his mother, sending him back and he still chooses to sacrifice himself for another person he loves, this time his own mother.

We are blessed with an authentic depiction of unconditional love from both ends: Great telling his mother to run away, his mother remaining by her son's side, Great biding his possible last I love you, experiencing a different reality of acceptance. His mother willing to die right beside her son and allowing herself to take the bullet, she too, had experienced her own grieving process. Denial that her son has supposedly helped in Nan's escape that caused the scandal leak, which will possibly affect their family's reputation, anger and bargaining by conducting any possible attempt to bring Great back to apologize to his father and keep the position she had worked hard to attain in this life, depression once she realizes that her son is leaving for good and there's nothing she could do to stop him, and finally, acceptance in her own fate to die, as long as she can die alongside her son, the only person she has ever loved unconditionally.

We also arrive back to Tyme with his grandmother, renting their home and hiding out at a relative's house for the time being and wearing the exact outfit worn in the intro of episode 1.

Episode 5

Episode 1

Now entering the possible point-of-no-return at high stakes, we've arrived back to the beginning of the story, in which the person in need of CPR and medical attention in episode 1 is Great. This "full circle moment" is also visually present in the series's b-roll: all of these objects are spinning or being circled counterclockwise, as if time has reverted itself back to stage one. Even the camera rotation while Tyme is running to the hospital is rotating counterclockwise, that in this timeline, Tyme has the opportunity to rewrite his own history, a history that will reunite him with the one he loves, the one who's just as willing to sacrifice himself in order to protect each other. The one who both exchanged mutual reasons to choose life as an active participant, and became each other's reason that makes life worth living for.

We are the ones who are capable of changing our fate: it's all within our grasp, it's all within the confines of our hearts, it's all within our reach, it's all worth fighting for.

Honorable Mention: Jes in All Shades

Every day, I'm becoming more and more enamored by this gentleman. To think Jes is a household name who took the chance to venture outside of what he's always known as a means to try something new and challenge himself, to think that Bible has found his match who's into all the same things as him, who becomes observant of others whenever Bible speaks to make sure they're actively listening, to be so humble when people mention his accolades in so many areas that he's dedicated himself to (acting, music, sports, hobbies, etc), to be so endearing with such a fun and bright personality that is just the right temperature that compliments Bible well, to be so kind in taking care of him as the more experienced of the two, to be such an amazing person inside out that you can't help but want to scream off the rooftops for the world to discover such an incredibly hardworking individual whose goal for this particular series is to bring something new to the Thai entertainment industry, to become a trailblazer and take it upon himself as well as the 4M cast and crew to break out of the mold that's been complacent and safe, to be the best person for this role that I can't see anyone fulfilling it. Thank you so much for being a part of this project and bringing so much life to Tyme, and bringing so much insight and enthusiasm for the rest of us that support BOC series. <3

And we made it to the end WHEW. Totally wasn't fighting sleep trying to form coherent sentences before I sleep on it and forget literally everything

Quick shout out to everyone who's shown appreciation for these posts, that means the world to me and I love reading everyone else's thoughts :)

See y'all next week <3

[bestworstcase]

Fingers crossed on the 'Yang's dad reconsiders about her' thing, mainly 'cuz it seems like an effortless failure mode for their particular dynamic (and one she's super likely to keep internalizing) would be 'huh, guess you're finally using the ol' noggin for more than headbutts, proud of ya sport'. And that's IF both parties aren't too swept up (or unalived in Taiyang's case) by Events for such fine-tuned cognitive script-flipping. Plus, 'we all pedestalized Ruby into a breakdown' does strike me as a higher-priority family crisis if there is any breathing room.

i’m not sure how much i buy the reading that yang internalizes what tai tells her about herself, in all honesty, ’cause like

everything tai says is a generalization from her vytal tournament fights, which:

team rwby won on the strength of their superior tactics and teamwork

yang fired burn because those two were being assholes after her teammate got (possibly, as far as yang knew) seriously injured, then used the power her semblance gave her to take control of the battlefield and turn her opponents’ advantages against them; she wins by applying her strength very tactically.

yang and mercury are very evenly matched, the whole fight is a nail-biter, and yang uses burn to tank mercury’s big finisher, then wins because he assumes he’s won before the match is called. (<- which is merc’s plan, but tai didn’t know that when he formed these impressions.)

tai’s takeaway is:

burn is “basically a temper tantrum”

yang relies on it because she’s “predictable, and stubborn, and maybe a little bone-headed”

yang uses her semblance to make herself strong so she can brute force her way through problems.

except that doesn’t line up with what yang does in either of the fights where she uses her semblance! in the 2v2, she’s angry and she uses that anger to juice her semblance, but she’s not lashing out or blowing things up at random, she’s disrupting the terrain so her roller-blading opponent can’t maneuver; in the 1v1, her use of burn is defensive—she activates it to strengthen herself enough to outlast a volley she couldn’t dodge or otherwise avoid, and she stays focused.

yang, of course, knows this. she’s the one who was in her head when she made the decision to fire her semblance in those fights. she pushes back on the idea that burn is any different from any other semblance, but she’s also able to filter out tai’s specific bias against her semblance to extract some actually good advice, specifically “make sure you’re not getting yourself stuck in a rut, think outside the box.”

which is what we see her doing with burn after v4; she uses her semblance more, in more varied ways. she completely ignores the advice tai gave her to stop “relying” on her semblance because she knows she hasn’t ever been someone who thinks raw strength is the only thing that matters in a fight.

and then when adam taunts her, he doesn’t make jabs about her strength—he says “do you think you’re faster than you were at beacon?”—because he knows, and yang knows, that the reason yang lost her arm is she underestimated how fast he could strike. strength had fuck all to do with it; he hit her before she could reach him.

the thing about that is… sword. fists. adam will always be able to hit yang before yang gets close enough to hit him back, not because he’s a better fighter or faster or stronger but simply because his weapon gives him way more reach. yang is faster than she was at beacon, but is she fast enough to eliminate his mechanical advantage?

adam doesn’t think so. yang doesn’t either. so she doesn’t try—she stands her ground and lets adam come at HER, because she’s been feeling out his semblance the whole fight and she’s confident she can catch his blade. this is why she tells him she’s “smarter;” adam expects a repeat of their last confrontation whereas yang uses what she knows about him to trick him into overextending.

his advantage is superior range, which yang isn’t fast enough to overcome. (sword. fists.) her advantage is strength. being smart, in this case, means using her strength instead of letting adam sting her into a contest of speed she knows she can’t win.

yang is a very agile, precise fighter who’s smart enough to know when to plant her feet and use her strength. she took a risk that she could catch that sword, but 1. that was really her best option, and 2. she spent the whole fight prior testing his limits and her own to prepare herself as much as possible. and in reverse, there have been times—like at haven—where yang decided speed was the most important thing and took the risk of literally disarming herself to get down to the vault as fast as possible.

did she really internalize that she’s a dum-dum who tries to hulk smash her way through every problem, or did she go “well i’m not going to stop using my semblance because that’s bullshit, but maybe i can get more out of it than i have been,” cue experimenting with things like different intensities.

i do think—if there’s a moment of reevaluation from tai—it’ll probably incited by blake or yang or ruby? because, returning to the salem comparison: salem understands who cinder is but doesn’t know what cinder really wants, so when cinder defies her she is able to immediately grasp why. whereas tai generally knows what yang wants (protect her sister, find her mother) but doesn’t understand who she is, so when he tries to explain why she does something he’s likely to be wrong every time. “you’ve fought your whole life unwaveringly for what you want, and here i am holding you back” vs “your semblance is a temper tantrum and you’re a little boneheaded”—salem gets cinder whereas tai probably needs to be told he doesn’t get yang.

[warblogs17282]

"Without all this, I'm just nothing, and Mammon made me this. I owe it all to him."

This is gonna sound a tad weird but I honestly want to see more flashbacks of Cash and Fizzarolli interacting back in the circus, from Fizzarolli's perspective.

Now, you're probably asking why at this point.

And my answer to that is that I highly suspect that Mammon's abuse of Fizzarolli has roots in Cash's abuse of Fizzarolli back in the circus.

I've established before in another post that Fizzarolli was the golden child back in the circus days for a few reasons, and I think a key takeaway from that post is this quote 'They coerce their child into being “perfect”'.

Now sure this is talking about parent and child relationships here but hear me out, Mammon did this, as proven by this quote from Asmodeus.

"You think you need to be this perfect, model performer, but that's because Mammon is always forcing that image onto you!"

And thinking about it, this rings surprisingly close to Cash's abuse of Fizzarolli, we know Cash only saw their value as how much money they could make Cash, and Fizzarolli was always amazing at doing that, making the entire audience laugh, being great at tricks that sort of stuff.

We know that Cash would use coercion and manipulation to get people to do what he wants as well, as seen with him doing exactly that with Blitz in s2 e1, so I highly suspect that Cash was doing similar things to Fizzarolli back in the circus days, using these tactics to make Fizzarolli be perfect in his circus performances because that's what made Cash more money.

Another quote that from my other post where I talk about Fizzarolli being a victim of the golden child abuse tactic is 'putting large amounts of pressure on them to do what’s expected or face losing the love of their parents'

And we know for a fact that Mammon was putting large amounts of pressure on Fizzarolli to do what's expected, as shown by this quote from Fizzarolli:

"But, everything I have is because of Mammon. I have this life. I have security. I have you. Without Mammon I wouldn't be… I wouldn't have… I just… I have to win this."

The sheer amount of pressure Fizzarolli is under during this scene is so plainly obvious, but instead of losing 'the love of their parents', Fizzarolli thinks he faces losing 'this life', 'security' and 'Asmodeus', which just really tells us that Mammon would hold these things over Fizzarolli's head, and threaten to take them away if he didn't do what Mammon expects from him, putting Fizzarolli under large amounts of pressure to do what Mammon says.

And again, I highly suspect that Cash did similar things to Fizzarolli back in the circus, considering this quote when he was telling Blitz to steal from Stolas: "There are scarier things, aren't there, son?", now, this could mean a lot of different things to Blitz, but it shows that Cash put a lot of pressure on Blitz to do what's expected, in this case that being stealing from Stolas, and if he did that for Blitz, there's nothing stopping Cash from doing similar things to Fizzarolli, which could be something like, taking away his 'love' for Fizzarolli if he doesn't do what Cash expects him to do to, which naturally would put Fizzarolli under a lot of pressure to perform well in the circus.

tldr: I believe that Mammon's abuse of Fizzarolli in some ways is extremely similar to Cash's abuse of Fizzarolli.

If you want to learn more about Fizzarolli being the golden child, just look at this post: