#the chaotic and aggravating energy was iNSANE

[gamelpar]

had a dream last night about the bad batch and the only thing i remember is that wrecker said or did something that was so absurd or ridiculous it drove echo up the wall. like it had him so Done™ and so mad i mean absolutely infuriated and the scene that followed was literally the two of them like this

for 1.5 seconds right before echo pounced on wrecker and beat his ass

[forteafy]

seb x reader with prompt " kissing their helmet for good luck before the race" any seb era (you choose) i hope you like the prompt :) <3

♡ Helmet Kisses [1.1K] I couldn't decide which era of Seb I wanted to do; so here's all three!

♡ Red Bull Racing Era

Back in his Red Bull Racing days, Sebastian was known for having a string of lovers; different girls would show up to the race every so often, but never in the Paddock.

Until of course, you came along.

You were the rationality to his chaotic energy, the calm voice in his head before he’d scream down the radio on a particularly bad race. 

Also, the first girl he had in the Paddock. 

Let’s start by saying the team adored you. Finally, Sebastian would show up on time to meetings and wouldn’t start causing chaos during one of Horner’s speeches. 

On the race evening, prior to his second World Championship, he’s all smiles, before walking onto the grid, hopping into his car. 

You at this point, were shyly standing alongside some of the other garage guests; you weren’t too sure what the media would think of ‘Vettel’s new lady, the one who’s stuck around.’

Until there’s a sudden motion from one of his mechanics, motioning at you. 

For a second, you don’t think to move, until he shouts your name, waving wildly for you to come over to the car. 

You can feel your heart race, feeling like the eyes of every driver, mechanic and fan were on you. The only solace you had was Lewis and Mark, having been introduced to Sebastian’s close friends earlier in the weekend. 

When you reached the Red Bull, the mechanic pats your back. You barely notice it, attention drawn to your boyfriend’s helmet-clad head. 

‘You didn’t give me my good-luck kiss!’ He huffed, lifting his visor so his blue eyes could meet your own. 

You can’t hold back the laugh this time. ‘Didn’t you win here without me last time?’ You question the logic. Sebastian simply huffs, not wanting to listen to logic, instead, folding his arms and pouting like a child. 

You end up caving, leaning over the side of the RB7, pressing a kiss to the side of his helmet. 

You don’t miss the cheering from the rest of the grid as you duck your head, cheeks blushing from the interaction as you walk off the track.

You also don’t miss Sebastian’s shout of ‘I want a proper one when I win!

♡ Scuderia Ferrari Era

You hadn’t been able to attend the opening race of Sebastian’s first year with Ferrari; something you’d felt awful about, knowing it was his dream to race for them. 

So here you were, clad in red, engagement finger resting on your left hand, ready to support your husband-to-be. 

He’d been aggravated, Lewis and Nico finishing 30 seconds ahead of him in the opening race had driven him insane. 

He knew he could do better.

So, when he came into to garage, clad in his red fireproofs, (ones you could have fantasies over,) his game-face was on.

You knew better than to interrupt the ins and outs of setting up the car. 

Sebastian had barely spoken to you that morning; he’d held your hand firmly when walking to the car that morning. 

Even in the car, your usual chat and singing along to his ancient music was replaced by a silence. 

The only form of comfort you had been able to offer him was a hand resting on his leg as he drove; a silent promise you would be here for him, not matter the result.  

It wasn’t until one of the mechanics walked past, holding Sebastian’s helmet, that you spoke up, asking if you could give it to him.

He obliged; in his mind, anything to cheer up their driver before the race would be a good thing. 

You had held out the helmet, his eyes widening when he saw that it was you handing it to him. 

Before handing it to him, you lifted the helmet to your face, kissing the part of the helmet where his lips would usually be on his face. 

You grinned, handing him the helmet, winking as you handed it over.

‘That’s your good luck kiss. Go out there and get that win.’ 

There was a massive cheer around the garage as they finally saw Sebastian break into a smile, the first one of the day.

Even Kimi had started grinning, knowing how in love his teammate was. 

After the win he scored that afternoon, the mechanics insisted you joined them for as many races as possible. 

♡ Aston Martin Era

Of course, you were there for Sebastian’s final race. The day had been overwhelming. 

Even though you hadn’t been by his side for the entirety of the day, you had been around the Paddock; your three-year-old daughter clad in Aston Martin merch.

The whole family had to be there for Sebastian; it was his last race after all.

It had been more emotional for you that you’d realised. 

Charles had come up to you, tears in his eyes as he thanked you for looking out for him all those years, even after Sebastian had left Ferrari. 

You didn’t expect the warm hug from Christian, who wished you both the best and had promised the second your daughter got into karting, he would be signing her to Red Bull. 

Of course, Sebastian had given both his girls a kiss before stepping into his car, nestling in his seat for the last time. 

You’d sat in the garage, your daughter on your lap as you pointed to where he was listening to his mechanic; her eyes widened upon seeing her father in the cars she’d seen all day. 

His race engineer nudged you, motioning towards your husband.

‘Go on. Give him one more for old times’ sake.’

You laugh, getting up from your chair and scooping up your daughter, walking through the grid. 

She of course, gives her Uncle Mick a wave, having spent most of her afternoon coaxing him to play imaginary games with her. 

Sebastian clocks the two of you coming across the grid, even though he’s strapped in, he turns his head. 

You can’t see the grin on his face, but you know it’s there. 

Leaning over and kissing the side of his head, it’s as if all of them years had been taken back, back to when you and Sebastian were just kids; the first time you’d ever been seen with him. 

You seem to fly through the years with that one kiss, before leaning up, ready to walk away, until the wiggling girl in your arms whines. 

Giving her a questioning look, she leaned down, arms guided by you, as she pressed a sloppy kiss to her father’s helmet. 

Sebastian’s heart melted.

His girls on his final race, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

☽ [If you have a headcanon/drabble idea, thought or request, feel free to send it here!] ☾

[gothamite-rambler]

I love your Rose and Raven series so much omg. I'd love to see one where they have to interact with Trigon after they've been having to deal with Slade

Answer to owjo39842jfs's ask (I take prompt asks and love answering stuff like above)

I love this suggestion so much! I will do that one, but it gave me the idea to write a prompt based off if one of them asked Slade which of them is worse. I feel like Slade is the type who knows he's a bad guy and wears it as a badge of honor. Thank you for the suggestion :)

This is: If Deathstroke was asked 'Which one of you is eviller?"

Deathstroke stood before the Titans, reaching for his gun, ready to shoot any of the heroes and deliver yet another poorly memorized monologue.

Deathstroke (voice deep and commanding): Today—

Raven (casually, waving her hand for the one-eyed man to see her): Hey, Deathstroke or Slade, whatever you go by, can I ask you a question real quick?

Deathstroke looked around, thrown off by the interruption and surprised that Raven of all people wanted to ask him something. It made him feel special, in a twisted sort of way. He raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

Deathstroke (with condescension): A question for me, the resilient mercenary? Go ahead, child.

Raven (with defiance): Don't ever call me that. It's a simple question about a feud Rose and I can’t agree on.

Rose sighed, lowering her gun. Nightwing and the other Titans exchanged confused glances. Nervous energy crackled in the air.

Rose (frustration in her voice as she talked louder): Raven, step back over here!

Raven (determined, keeping eye contact on Deathstroke): Hey, he’s here; we might as well ask him since he’s part of the topic. Beast Boy, move!

Raven shoved her boyfriend aside, who was trying to protect her but ended up knocked to the ground instead. His expression turned from concern to exasperation as he stayed on the ground, crossing his arms in aggravation.

Beast Boy (irritated, but reassured that his girlfriend could protect herself): Hey, babe, seriously?

Raven (stepping forward, but keeping her distance): Shush. Now, Slade, out of you and Trigon, the literal demon lord, who would you argue is more… chaotic, vile, corrupt—

Nightwing (frustrated, hands thrown up): Raven, you paused for this?!

Raven silenced Nightwing with a sharp hiss. A flicker of annoyance danced in her gaze. Rose shook her head, holding her arm up to signal him to stay back and be quiet. She shared the same aggravation as Nightwing but let this happen, knowing where it would go.

Raven's voice was steady, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes as she continued.

Raven (hands behind her back): As I was saying—vile, corrupt, chaotic, capable of leading a cult of large followers—which one of you would 'win'?

Deathstroke smirked, almost reveling in the attention.

Deathstroke (prideful and unhesitant): Me, obviously. I trump that charlatan every time. What? Did you think I'd say Trigon was stronger? That's adorable.

Rose (frustration boiling over): I told you he would say that! He’s not going to say someone else is worse, and that makes him evil!

Deathstroke (holding up his hand with a cocky tone): Well, "morally wrong" is the better word.

Nightwing (enraged): You took advantage of a mentally damaged teenager, and you couldn't care less that she died!

Deathstroke (defiantly, arms crossed): And again, last I checked, the age of consent is a thing, and she wanted it!

Rose raised her gun hand, itching to shoot her father in the chest, but it wasn’t the right time. Her hands trembled with a mix of rage and resentment as she lowered her arm. Plus, she was definitely being proven right.

Deathstroke (smug tone): Remember, daughter, I can do something far worse than shooting you back.

Rose growled softly, falling silent as fear gripped her. She couldn’t risk her insane father revealing that she was with Jason. She knew he would do it—his spitefulness had hurt her too many times before.

Nightwing: Does he purposely try to not remember your name?

Rose nodded with a sigh of aggravation.

Rose (to Raven): Every time he speaks, I get a point, and you owe me lunch! Now bring your ass back over here! — I can tell her that, right?

Nightwing nodded, sharing her exasperation.

Raven (clenching her fists): Dang it! Thanks a lot, Slade. Disappointment to life. Resume your plagiarized monologue!

Deathstroke (smug satisfaction evident in his tone): I shall, and this time I wrote it myself with only two quotes used. Don’t worry, Tulip; I’ve got your back on defending my honor.

Rose (voice rising an octave, a desperate plea for acknowledgment): It’s Rose!

Deathstroke shrugged as if the wrong name was perfectly valid.

Deathstroke: They’re both flowers.

Nightwing (calm but firm, placing a hand on Rose's shoulder for support): Let it go, Rose. He's not worth the bullets.

Other related fics:

Rose and Raven: Trauma Bonding Buddies

Raven and Rose being best trauma friend

Rachel “Raven” Roth and Rose Wilson debating over who had the suckier dad pt 2.

Rose's advice for the day

"This is an original monologue I came up with on my own!"

[altocat]

Sephiroth but somehow all three remnants still exist and keep trying to find new ways to kill him. They are persistent and annoying and getting on his fucking nerves. What would they come up with? How (without killing, he tried that, they grow back or some shit) would he deal with each antic? For "plot's" sake can be assumed on the planet Sephiroth wants to colonize or Gaia whatever's easier.

I'd appreciate the joy/angst/any of your writings if you have the energy right now.

The tale of the angry catboy and the annoying kittens that keep chewing on his leg.

-Sephiroth already is not a big fan of "kids". It was mostly due to old insecurities and hangups about his own rough childhood but here it's because it's just aggravating.

-Doesn't help that nothing they do really does anything to him. He constantly has to swat them away and ignore them. Constantly getting ambushed, constantly having his concentration broken because the little gremlins want to spar. He's the only one really communicating with Jenova and having them constantly bother him over her pretending like they're valued in her eyes irks him to no end.

-Kadaj is the worst of the lot. He reminds Sephiroth of... someone else. But he can't quite remember who. Either way, between him constantly giving chaotic speeches and Loz boo hooing every two minutes, Sephiroth has tried SO. MANY. times to evade them.

-Yazoo is okay. Yazoo is at least quiet most of the time. That is, until it turns out he's been plotting behind everyone's back and is the closest of the Remnants to actually entrap Sephiroth and do some serious damage. So FUCK Yazoo too. All three of them can burn.

-They have tried rounding on him, pranking him, outright attempting to shank the hell out of him, constantly stalking his every move, constantly taunting and demanding to see Mother. An endless loop.

-Sephiroth is in hell. How is he supposed to cultivate a shining future for this new planet with his newfound divinity with these three snotty, obnoxious little brats tailing him? Is this punishment? Does Mother think him unworthy?

-Worse still, they're eating up his time and attention. Between Mother hissing into his ear and the little wrigglers constantly challenging him to spar, Sephiroth for all his calm control and insanity, can't concentrate. It's too much at once, and all with no Cloud around to make for a pleasurable bit of recreation.

-Over time, Sephiroth finds that he's more than often forced to have to converse with them. This brings about... interesting results because while they ARE independent, they're also pieces of him. Of his psyche. Of his memories. He is, in theory, beginning to engage in cathartic discussions with aspects of his own ego and internal insecurities.

-Lowkey in the dumbest fluff ending tfw Sephiroth is slowly bringing himself back to sanity by way of being his own therapist/simultaneously becoming a dad. Happy ending??? Gaia is probably still in pieces rofl

[crystalelemental]

Unit Viability Speculation - Sygna Suit Steven

No intro this time.  My computer, for the first time in eight months, lost its screen visual again, and I had to shut it down to get it back, losing all progress on this incredibly complicated unit.

Steven and Deoxys is a super weird sync pair that uses every single form.  If you expected them separate, think again.

Base form starts out with four trainer moves.  The first sets Psychic Terrain, then gives +2 Def/Sp Atk/Sp Def/Speed.  This is base form, which gets Pinpoint Entry, Entry Freebie, and Downside Up.  Its stats are terrible because of that last one, go figure.  Base Form isn’t great, and should be considered more about the application of Psychic Terrain, which has to be right at the outset of battle, so...not a fan.  He’s not good for Terrain.  Psycho Boost and Zen Headbutt are the attacks in every form.  It gets Recover and Cosmic Power after the trainer move to lock in normal form, which isn’t too bad.  After using the trainer move, its passives change to Fuel Economy, and Aggravation 2.  This form is utility and almost nothing else.

Attack form!  This thing, is fucking insane.  Attack Forme, true to forme (hee hee), has like 450 offenses.  Its moves are Psycho Boost, Zen Headbuff, Protect (?), and Cosmic Power (???).  The effects are what’s nuts.  All forms keep Downside Up, but Attack gets Power Chain 2.  No, not that one, a new one that gives a 30% chance to increase both kinds of move up next when a move is successful.  Can we just change all Power Chain to that?  No?  Fine.  The other is Expanded Sync.  It’s Expand Reach.  But for sync.  Deoxys is a Tech.  That has AoE sync.  By default.  Gee Mr. Stone, how come DeNA lets you have two EX abilities?  Would you like to double the stat bonus as well?  This feels insane.  Oh, and the Attack form is Anni Lillie.  One click, full offensive benefits, 450 special attack.  Mm.  Thanks for this.

Defense Form gets Stat Share 9 to make all self-buffs benefit the party.  It also gets Team Mind-Bracing Infliction 2, so +2 Sp Def for the party when it uses a status move.  Moves become Recover and Iron Defense.  Interestingly, the trainer move for Defense Forme gives +4 to both offenses for the party, and applies damage guard next, so this is pretty choice party-wide buffing.  This isn’t bad as support.

Speed Form is weird.  The trainer move to change to it reduces sync countdown by 2, raises user’s speed by 6 and evasion by 3.  It gets Afflictors Fervor, which reduces sync countdown by 2 again, and Catalytic Infliction, which is move gauge acceleration.  Both are first time it uses a status move, so I find the latter really underwhelming.  It gets Recover and Double Team.  So it’s evade tanking.  Just regular tank if that’s your goal.  The reason to use Speed Forme is the rapid sync cooldown to end a match fast.  Otherwise, I find it worse than the others.

With all that out of the way...grid.  Furious Brain is...good.  Soften Up 1 is good.  Recover actually just got MPR so eat shit SS Dawn.  Critical Odds+ 9, which gives +2 crit rate when its trainer uses a move, is absolute insanity to me, because now he’s pretty well self-sufficient.  He got Disarm for some reason.  And his...his sync only gets power tiles.  SS Steven, a Tech unit...doesn’t have an almighty sync nuke effect.  God that’s refreshing.  Finally, a Tech unit that focuses on weird bullshit but isn’t just about a heavy sync nuke.

I’m gonna be honest.  This is a contender for my favorite sync pair, at least by playstyle.  This is downright clownshoes.  I am in love with the chaotic energy of this alt.  Pick a form, get specific weird benefits from each, Attack has no sync multipliers, Defense is actually really good as a support despite being Tech, and Speed is just the epitome of fast-ramping sync nukes, while normal form is just...bizarre.  Not even bad just bizarre.  This one’s fun.  I love it.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (side pairings Morcia, WillxJJ, others in flirtation)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: Now posted on tumblr and Ao3, Click Here

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: This is pretty tame, Emily is just a little intense and eager because Spencer is... well, Spencer, and when she realizes all he can do? Oh she is chomping at the bit. Some trance-like things and witchy stuff and Hotch being territorial without being able to admit it.)

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: this takes place in chapter 02, what you will all see on Saturday evening, and this version is insanely unpolished (I’m about to go through and fix it up and give it a good make-over) but basically this is the first time Spencer is meeting Emily Prentiss and it makes... an impression. Also, Emily has been at the BAU for about 0.2 seconds and Hotch is already done with her. The sibling energy I love to see. It’s also hella long, as an apology for missing last week and being a day late. All you’ve missed is Spencer about ran into Emily turning a corner and she saved him from spilling his case files and coffee all over the floor. Now they are talking)

–

.

“I apologize, I thought you were an intern or still in the academy.”

“It’s alright, everyone does,” Spencer says without taking offense. He wouldn’t have gotten where he was or lasted very long if he did; however, if he had a nickel for every time someone had been surprised by his age, he’d be as rich as Father Rossi. His full hands actually aids him as he mentions, “I don’t usually shake hands with people, so don’t think me rude. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He offers her a smile in exchange, and it is mirrored on her face just as her surprise kicks up another notch. 

“Doctor, my my I am in for a trip on this team, aren’t I?” she laughs, and it’s a melodic thing that stretches over an expanse of time and history. Ballrooms in Russia and palors of France, Elizabethan and the roaring 20’s and everything in between all rolled into one. He’s not sure how he sees it, an impossible thing, but he can read it like a book and that must have something to do with what she is. “Emily Prentiss, it is a remarkable pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. Now, I have to ask--” her tone is so charming and playful and probing he barely notices the nuance, “And I’m sure it’s taboo around here, but I have to know -- your regeneration process. Tell me what it is or what you do. You look so young.”

“I am young,” he states simply, finally stunned by a question he’s not usually asked. 

“Yes, yes, we all can’t be a thousand years old like your fearless Vampire leader,” she waves off and Spencer’s eyes widen because… he hadn’t known Hotch was that old. Sure he’d said he’d been alive for the better part of a millennia, but he always said it like a hyperbole. A turn of phrase that’s off by a couple centuries. But --

 A thousand years old. 

That would put him… 

God, that would put him alive, as a human, just before the start of The Crusades. 

“Oh, did he keep that to himself? Oops, my bad. Pretend you don’t know. Anyway -- so are you a Shifter? Or use a particular spell? Oh, or is it a curse? I’m fascinated by curses, I don’t use them often myself but the rigidity of terms using a power so chaotic is just such a fun juxtaposition that I--”

“No, no, I’m… normal, human,” Spencer interrupts her, still the smallest bit shell-shocked, but now connects a few dots himself as she speaks. Realizes very suddenly that Ms. Prentiss appears ageless because she is ageless. She’s also a Witch. One of the broadest terms for subspecies categories, which really doesn’t do it justice. A Witch could be a number of things. Someone who uses magic and science and the very Earth itself paired with the spiritual planes to do impossible things. Witches are beings so powerful they should be uncategorizable. Something Spencer is fascinated by as well. He’s never met anyone like Emily. “I look young because I am young. I’m 27, I’ve only been with the BAU for the past three years. I’m a little excited to not be the newbie on the team any more,” he tries to joke, but Emily’s gaze has gone distant and sharp all at once.

“You’re only 27? And you’re a doctor?” She asks in clarification, Spencer nodding along each time. “You’ve been a doctor, since becoming an FBI agent?” 

“Um, well -- I’m not a medical doctor. I do have three doctorates, though; in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering,” he finds himself shrinking a bit under her intensely interested gaze. “What?”

“Chemistry?” she asks, vaguely more distant.

“That was my first doctorate,” he murmurs back, not sure what has her looking so contemplative. 

“You’ve achieved all of this: three doctorates, FBI agent, BAU -- in 27 years?” she questions, a grave yet wondrous sound.

“Technically I did all of that in 15 years. I graduated high school when I was 12,” he manages to do more than mumble, and Emily’s wide-eyed stare has him spewing forth information like it requires an explanation. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can read 20,000 words a minute, and my IQ is 187 so by human standards yes -- I’m a genius, and borderline on the advanced brain developments scale. But I’m still human. Nothing paranormal or extraordinary.”

The pause that follows is palpable.

“Oh,” she says in an exhale, “Oh, you young soul. You have no idea, do you? What you are capable of...” She tilts her head as she steps closer and Spencer is very suddenly aware that he’s not sure she’s blinked since they started speaking about his qualifications. What he can do, how he got to where he is. No one usually shows this much interest, he makes them uncomfortable for reasons he doesn’t always understand. 

Emily doesn’t look uncomfortable, she looks… hungry. 

“You are so very, very extraordinary. Exceptional, really. Look at all of what you’ve accomplished with just 15 years of life.” That astonished sound again, like she can’t believe her luck--

And then she’s in his space, gaze boring into his, and Spencer can see galaxies in the depth of her eyes. His breath stolen from him and feet rooted to the floor. So he doesn’t step away as she leans just the smallest bit closer, words resonating with echoes across ages.

“Imagine what you could do with a thousand.” 

“Prentiss,” the deep voice of Hotch’s monotone (edged in something vaguely aggressive, and more than a little aggravated)  breaks through their moment. The trance fading like a fog from Spencer’s eyes. “No recruiting. It’s in your contract.”

“You have such a gift, it’s a shame to waste it,” Emily whispers in a rush as Hotch approaches them from down the hall. More earnest than intimidating, now.

“Prentiss!” 

“Think about it,” she winks, and then turns to give Hotch a smile that’s all teeth so sharp she resembles a shark. “Oh, what a sour face. What’s wrong? Were you planning on asking him first? You snooze, you lose.” 

“Conference room,” he instructs, pointing the way Spencer had just come. “Team meeting in 20 minutes. Try not to summon anything between here and there.” She sticks her tongue out at him childishly as she leaves, and sends a quirk of a smile Spencer’s direction that shifts her whole expression into something comically entertained. He’s never seen Hotch interact with someone like this, like they were… familiar, even exasperatingly so. The closest in comparison is probably Father Rossi. But this is less like old friends and more like sibling rivalry. 

The space Emily had just vacated is suddenly filled with Hotch, an overwhelmingly welcomed presence and it eases the tension out of Spencer’s spine and shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, low and quiet. They’re the only ones in the hallway, but secrecy is a hard habit to break.

Spencer nods, still gaining his bearings once more. “I think so. That didn’t feel like hypnotism. I don’t know what that was.” 

“Prentiss doesn’t manipulate minds or the wills of other people,” Hotch tells him, which is soothing if not for the foreboding question of what just occurred. “She doesn’t need to. She can do a lot of things: change her face, her voice, make illusions and talk circles around anyone -- even you.” Spencer looks up to him at that, aware that his level of intelligence is the only thing that keeps him safe from JJ or Hotch’s influence. His mind can’t be bent, or tricked.

“Then what was she doing? I felt compelled but… not against my will. What was that?” he asks, also quiet but much more high in pitch as his confusion turns his voice to a winded sound.

Hotch’s thin, stern frown does nothing to alleviate the apprehension caught up in his chest like a bad cold. 

.

“Possibility,” he states, grim and not liking that Spencer had fallen prey to such a short moment with Emily Prentiss and her promise of what her craft could do for him. Hotch is well aware that Spencer’s gift of soaking up every speck on information he’s given like a sponge isn’t something to let wither and die like so many before him. There’s so much he could do with an infinite life, such as his and Emily’s, but the curse of living forever alone is not something to be taken lightly. And not to be decided by someone who still has so much more life to live unaided by other forces.

However, Emily was right about one thing. Hotch can’t deny that he’s thought about it. More than considered it as a definite possibility. 

An offer, all his own.

–

Tagged list so far: @physics-magic​, @thaddeusly, @ssa-noa, @ssa-sarahsunshine, @tobias-hankel, @reidology, @mintphoenix

[curiouserandthatmuchcuriouser]

I don't talk a lot about this on social media, but two years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Next month is Bipolar Awareness Month, and even though it's not here quite yet, I'd like to share my story. We all fight secret battles, and the first step to breaking the stigma of mental illness is starting a dialogue and finding compassion for others as well as ourselves.

Around December 2018, I started feeling... different than I normally do. I didn't understand what was happening at the time: I'd never had so much energy before, and at first it was exhilarating. I was running around, talking a mile a minute, suddenly completely free of the social anxiety that's plagued me my entire life, completing chores & errands in record time, and feeling on top of the world. My mind was overflowing with creativity, ideas for poems and essays and songs and even a full musical of my own design (in hindsight, it's all nonsense of course). My appetite slipped away and I suddenly felt free from the constraints of sleep, even though I'd never been more productive. I barely ate or slept, but I wasn't hungry or tired. I lost so much weight and I barely noticed.

At the same time, my moods were swinging all over the place -- I was irritable, I was ecstatic, I was angry, I was morose, I was playful, I was paranoid. I was charismatic, I was churlish, I was ambitious, I was friendly, I was sullen. I was crazy. Naturally I was too busy with my newfound productivity and "creative genius" (lol) to even notice the mood swings. I was an artist! With an artist's temperament! And there was so much to write! I started carrying around yellow sticky notepads in my pockets so I could write down my "brilliant" epiphanies (hint: it was more nonsense) wherever I went. I filled them up within days. My handwriting changed, became sloppier, messier. So many thoughts, I couldn't get them down fast enough.

My thought process, my inner monologue, became fast, then rapid, then downright muddled. It was like a movie playing at warp speed in my head, all day, every day, and most of the night too because who needed sleep when there was so much to think about? I developed a horrible sense of grandiosity. It was my newfound purpose in life to help people, personal cost be damned. I gave the coat off my back to a homeless man begging for change at the dollar store. I impulsively blew through what little savings I had on… I don't even know what. On useless crap that I didn't need.

Paranoia overtook my psyche. I was certain that some of my friends were conspiring against me in various ways, and I wouldn't (couldn't) shut up about it to anyone who would listen. I was suspicious of the world at large. I started walking around with a knife tucked into my boot (thankfully I never used it). I drove too fast, recklessly, getting lost on familiar streets (that's not poetic license, I actually found myself getting disoriented in familiar neighborhoods and needing the GPS to find my way home). I was crying while driving, sobbing and squinting at the cars ahead of me. Everything I experienced was fast and bright and sharp in the most confusing ways.

I still thought I was invincible. I was not invincible. In fact, I was 24 years old and I was experiencing my first manic episode, and it ended up being the scariest period of my life thus far.

I couldn't focus on my job anymore, a job that I loved, a job that I had worked hard to get. I would sit down to read an email and the words would swim before my eyes like a school of fish. If I tried typing anything, at least half the words would be misspelled and I'd have to start over. I wasn't getting any work done, not really. I couldn't sit still. I started pacing around the office every chance I could get and taking long walks at night in the winter chill (which I barely felt). I was feverish with mania. I was aggravated by random things and I would lash out at random people, even family and friends (perhaps especially family and friends). No one understood what I was going through, least of all myself.

Finally -- I don't even remember how I realized something was off since I was so far gone at that point -- a lightbulb went on in my head amidst the chaotic movie screen of jumbled thoughts and I realized: I'm not usually like this. I feel... sick. And when a quick Google search of my symptoms suggested "bipolar disorder," I knew I had to get help. One thing led to another, and in January 2019, I ended up moving back into my mom's house and taking medical leave from my job, the job that I loved, to do outpatient group therapy five times a week for several weeks at a nearby hospital… only to quit that job, the job that I loved, almost immediately upon returning to it because I didn't realize beforehand just how long it would take for me to recover.

I was so ashamed about quitting that job, and I still carry some of that shame around to this day, but the circumstances were completely untenable. I was on three different kinds of antipsychotics, which were expensive and caused me to gain close to 100 lbs during the time I was on them. The other side effects of those meds, like the drowsiness and the brain fog, were awful. After five-times-a-week group therapy, I graduated to once-a-week individual therapy (so proud, I know). It took me weeks to regain the ability to read more than a paragraph at a time, which was torture for me, an English major and avid reader. Television became a crutch, an easy way to pass the restless hours. I slept as much as possible during the day because I was so deeply ashamed of how far I'd fallen.

Eventually, I did recover. Considering the state I was in, I am *exceptionally lucky* and I think about that everyday. The meds, the therapy, and time did their job and helped me get back to myself. I still occasionally struggle with symptoms of depression and mania, and I always will. I'll never be the person I was before my diagnosis, but that's okay. I know who I am now, even the dark parts, and I know how to take care of all of me. That's the most important piece of the puzzle: self-awareness and self-care in equal measure.

Looking back, it truly feels like a different person inhabited my body during those awful months. An insane person, one I'd be embarrassed to know, let alone be. My brain became a snapping turtle, and no one was safe. I lost friends, people I trusted who just couldn't see past the actions and harsh words that my illness caused, even after I sought treatment and tried to make amends via heartfelt apology letters and frantic explanations. There is a fine line between accountability for past mistakes and reckoning with mental illness, and in some ways I still feel like I'm walking that line. But at least now I know I can let go some of that shame.

I am forever grateful to my wonderful network of family, friends, and mental health professionals who supported me every step of the way and saw me through to the other side. I love you. I wouldn't be myself without you. Thank you.

If you or someone you love struggle with mental illness, don't try to sweep it under the rug. Know the signs, and seek treatment. Help is available. Getting better is possible.

We all fight secret battles. Let's lead with compassion.

[bigdrchief]

I... Am Cape Kuroto Dan - Enter the Next World (Worm/Kamen Rider)

The multiverse was a place full of life and wonder, each universe holding their own defenders of justice.

A world of pirates who fight against an evil empire.

A world of warriors who fight in an everlasting mirror world.

A world of magicians who use the power of courage.

A world of doctors and games fighting against the Bugster virus.

That last world sounds interesting, doesn't it? Not exactly a common combination, doctors and games, but there are certainly connections between them.

In that world, there existed a mad genius who created a game capable of changing the world, for the purposes of showcasing his own genius. He would fight against the "protagonists" to create a game capable of granting immortality, and would soon form a alliance with them to prevent his father from destroying any chances of stopping the Bugster virus (and in turn his game). After these events, the mad genius would continue his work, eventually succeeding in his goal of a game capable of resurrecting the fallen, but would soon finally face his end. A dangerous and insane foe, comparable to a cockroach in a mech suit, he is an enigma in its most chaotic form.

For a while, it was presumed that this mad man had finally died, no more continues left for the so-called god. But as he has shown time and time again, he will continue appearing in worlds using as many 'continues' as needed for the sake of his goals.

Of course, all of this did not matter for the inactive Vassal Manager, a Shard that used to work for Eden but was now waiting for a potential candidate to connect to. Its mastery over hard-light projections, in human terms, was what gave the Entities their forms that they would use when interacting with civilizations. With Eden currently offline, however, the Shard was left to its own devices, forced to wait for somebody to meet its requirements in order to connect once more to the Shard Network.

While currently calculating the best type of 'power' to distribute, it felt something poking and prodding at its network ports. It was clearly attempting to hack into its interface, which while somewhat surprising, would ultimately prove to be a futile gesture.

To the Shard's alarm, however, as it attempted to deconstruct the invader, it soon quickly spread across the various connections it had. No matter what guards the Shard placed, the virus was somehow able to circumvent it.

The Shard began to panic as it attempted to preserve its data in a last resort, only for the virus to begin quickly consuming it just as quickly, corrupting anything it came across. Its functions fading fast, the Shard was unable to put up a resistance against the virus, and slowly felt itself succumbing to it.

The last thought the Shard had before it fully degraded was not one it would normally think, but was indeed a result of the virus that had infected it. Those two words?

GAME OVER

*Line Skip*

5 weeks later...

The Merchants were currently on the run from the Heroes, having successfully made it off with various bags of money, most likely to use to buy some drugs (AGAIN)!

Armsmaster was gaining some leeway on the group, but Skidmark had decided to be a colossal dick and had Squealer configure a bunch of auto-turrets of sorts on their getaway vehicle, which was currently firing multiple rounds that Armsmaster was forced to dodge and serve through.

Skidmark grinned as he quickly rifled through the cash he had gathered, already calculating the amount of drugs he intends on buying and then selling to the poor sops of the city. WIth this much cash, they could probably make triple the amount of money then the usual amount they scam off of the losers of Brockton Bay. At this rate, they'll be rich in no time!

Armsmaster brings out his halberd, and attempts to fire a grappling hook at them, possibly in some sort of attempt to try and slow them down, but Skidmark quickly redirects it to a nearby lamp post, causing it to latch onto the steel pole and forcing Armsmaster to slow down temporarily in order to quickly unattach the hook.

Skidmark grinned viciously at this clear victory, and turned to count the money once more. Had he paid a bit more attention, he would have noticed Armsmaster radioing in information, presumably to other Protectorate Heroes. For now, however, he was more focused on how to make use of his money to profit.

It was quite unfortunate then, that something proceeded to slam into the car, causing it to stop much to Skidmark's irritation.

"What the fuck, Squealer?! Why the fuck aren't we moving!?"

"I-I don't know, so shut up and let me fucking fix this!" Squealer yelled out in anger as she pressed the gas pedal in an attempt to make it move to no avail.

Already aggravated at how this clear chance of victory was cut short, Skidmark imploded when he heard somebody chuckling at their misfortune. Jumping out of the vehicle, gun in hand, he growled as he quickly surveyed the area.

"Who the fuck is laughing at us!?" he yells out. "Come on out you little shit! Or are you too chicken and would rather cry to your mommy?!"

He let out a vicious grin when the perpetrator finally revealed themselves, appearing from a nearby alleyway.

It was some guy in cosplay, wearing some sort of purple and black suit with white highlights and white leg armor. The person wore purple shoes and purple shoulder pads, alongside purple cuffs, and some weird green machine thingie on their waist with a purple object inserted in it. On their chest was some weird armor, with four colored buttons on the left side of the armor and some sort of gauge on the left. The helmet was the weirdest part, however, as it had some spiky black hair and a weird white-edge visor with red cartoon eyes printed on it.

Skidmark and his fellow Merchants laughed at the fool. If this person was a Cape, they sure were a horrendous one! Who even wears something like that anyway?

"-HAHAHAHAHA! I can't believe you're wearing something that shitty-looking!" Skidmark said, pointing his gun at the figure. "So how about you go and die or something and let the big boys work, huh?"

Skidmark fired, then grunted when the bullet barely grazed the armor. Of course it couldn't be that easy, could it? The Parahuman was clearly a Tinker of sorts. Whatever, they could still take the asshat down.

As his men prepared his weapons (and Squealer finally getting the car to work again), the Cape finally spoke up.

"It appears that the beta testing has started." he spoke calmly, but with this bizarre tenseness mixed with an underlying chaotic energy that just screamed danger to Skidmark. Unfortunately, he makes love with drugs, and so he grabbed the mental warning sign and threw it at the Cape in rage and confusion.

"What the fuck are you talking about!?"

"I'm saying that pests like you aren't even worth the full use of my capabilities." the Cape continued, raising his hands in a grandiose manner. "Your sole purpose is to help with the calibration of this vessel, to ensure that it is functioning properly for use in this backwards planet."

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about." Skidmark flatly replied.

"You needn't need to remember. Once I'm done with you, the only thing you'll need to remember is your crushing defeat at my hands, Genm's hands." Genm said arrogantly.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!" Skidmark exploded, his fragile pride unable to handle Genm's remarks, and throwing his gun at the Cape in rage, he used his power to overlay multiple layers on the gun, causing it to slam into the Cape at in intense speed, letting out a small explosion due to the few bullets still remaining inside. To his ever-growing frustration, Genm remained unharmed by the attack.

"HAHAHAHA!" he laughed at Skidmark's efforts. "Was that all you could do? I think it's time that I show you how a real CEO does it. I can easily crush you all, even if I have to use continues!"

Quickly rushing towards the group, Skidmark's underlings quickly fired onto the Cape, the bullets failing to slow him down. Genm quickly ran up to the group of goons and smash his fist into one of the goon's faces, slamming the poor fellow into the ground before quickly roundhouse kicking another goon. Genm then threw a few punches at a goon stupid enough to attempt to bash their gun on Genm, before swinging said goon around and throwing them into the crowd.

As the vehicle's engine purred, Genm turned towards the capes before raising his hand up.

"G̵̖̩̳͊̀̊A̷̻͊Ş̶̙̔̏̐̋̈̍͝Ȟ̵̢̜̙̪͈̯̓̓̄Á̷̝͇͉͙͎̈́Ć̸̦̾O̶̧̘͛͋̔͗N̴̘̝̳̜̖̼̦̅̈͠ ̷̢̣̯͓͊̓͌̽͐͘S̵̗̒͒W̶̛͓͇̳̰̍̈́̋͛̑Ó̸̹͉͇̪͔̑͐͊͜Ŕ̸̤̼̲̾͂̈̉͌̀ͅD̷̫̜͛̀̐̆̂̍͘!̴̨̗̖̩̟͊͌̓̽̚"

A distorted voice resounded in the area as dark violet pixels manifested around Genm's hand, before dispersing to reveal a simple sword with a silver hilt, a blue crossguard with a red A button and blue B button, and a red flaming serrated blade.

As Genm approached the Capes, Mush finally decided to intervene, using the various rubble that make up his body and flinging them towards the Cape, Skidmark enhancing the projectiles and causing them to move at speeds fast enough to be set on fire towards Genm. Genm simply swung the sword side to side, easily destroying the rubble that was flung at him.

Realizing that maybe this was a waste of time, Skidmark quickly jumped back into the vehicle and yelled at Squealer. "Step on it, ya bitch! Hurry up!"

"I'm fucking doing that assshole!" Squealer replied.

"Ko Chīn!"

However, just as the vehicle began backing up, the vehicle just as quickly stopped. As a confused Squealer tries the pedal once more, Skidmark looks over the car and sees to his shock ice had formed on the car's wheels, slowly inching upward like a caterpillar on a plant. Looking back at the cape, he saw the armored Tinker had stabbed the now cyan colored sword into the ground, freezing the area.

As the figure walked towards them, Skidmark grabbed a nearby machine gun that was stashed in the car earlier, and in a fit of desperation began firing the bullets at the Cape, using his power to enhance the power of the bullets. The bullets merely grazed the figure, and as the Cape began sprinting towards him, for a second Skidmark feared that he may have misjudged his victory.

A truck suddenly slammed into the figure from the side, slamming the Cape into a nearby building. Acting instinctively, Skidmark used his powers on the vehicle, enhancing its velocity enough that when it slammed into the nearby wall, it exploded. As the fire slowly receded, Skidmark saw Mush slowly moving away from a nearby parking lot, and quickly deduced him to be the cause of the vehicle crash.

"...Hahaha, serves that bitch right! Did he really think he could stand up against us!?"

Skidmark let out a definitely not nervous laughter as he looked over the wreckage, seeing no sign of the Cape moving. A pity, it seems like they killed the Tinker. Then again, if he had died from a mere explosion, than would he have been a good asset to them.

"Merchants. Cease and desist immediately."

Skidmark turned around, and growled when he the miltary hero pointing a gatling gun at him. Miss Militia, a Cape that Skidmark never really liked. If she was here, than the other Protectorate Capes would not be too far off.

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

"Come on Squealer!" he barked to the Tinker. "Hurry the fuck up and get us out of here!"

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

Squealer quickly nodded, but paused to Skidmark's confusion.

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

"Squealer, what the fuck are you doing!?" Skidmark yelled, only to freeze when he began hearing the noise she had.

"*Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep*"

Suddenly, a purple warp pipe with the word "CONTINUE" in rainbow colors appeared from the ground, and from it ascended to the Capes shock Genm, unharmed and untouched by the explosion earlier.

"*Doot-doodoo-doot-doodoot!*"

A small jingle played as the Tinker slowly stepped out of the pipe and onto the ground, cracking his neck as he stared at Skidmark. At that moment, he was pretty sure that were it not for the mask, he would've seen the stupid ass Cape smirking at his confusion.

"What the-!? How the fuck did you survive!? You were fucking blown up, you piece of shit!?!?" Skidmark yelled in confusion.

Genm simply shook his head as he removed the strange purple device from the green machine attacked on his waist, the machine letting out a "Gashun!" as a holographic indicator appeared beside the Tinker, displaying the words "GENM Life Points" and a red heart with the number 99 inside it.

"As I said, you are merely the beta test to my vessal's abilities. And one of those abilities includes the ability to 'respawn' after death." he explained pointing a finger up, as the number went down to 98. "You've managed to kill 1 of just 99 lives, which is definitely impressive for scum like you."

"Ni-Ninety-nine!?" Skidmark said in shock.

"Didn't you hear me earlier?" Genm remarked as he began spinning the violet device around. "I'll clear this game, even if I have to use continues!" He then proceeded to slam the device into some sort of holster on his right side before pressing a button.

"Kimewaza! MIGHTY CRITICAL STRIKE!"

Purple and blue energy slowly began to form around Genm's right leg as he slowly walked towards the dazed Merchants, the walk slowly turning into a dash as the Cape ran towards the Merchants. In a panic, Skidmark attempts to jump ship, quickly exiting the vehicle, but at that point it was too late. Genm threw a roundhouse kick at the vehicle, striking at the engine and causing the entire vehicle to explore in an orange glitchy fiery explosion. The various drugged Capes flung across the floor, shrapnel flying and striking them in their limbs, giving them wounds and intense pains throughout their bodies, while Genm simply stood there unharmed.

Smoke eventually filled the area, and Miss Militia whom had been watching the whole thing in shock, quickly comes onto the scene in an attempt to reach the new Cape that had devastated the Merchants. However, once the smoke faded away, the purple Tinker was gone, no trace of him ever being here except for the damage he had done to the Merchants.

As fellow Cape Armsmaster soon arrived on the scene, Miss Militia walked towards the wreckage of the truck to examine the area, most of the flames having now died out.

As she walked closer to the area, she noticed something poking out of the wreckage of the area. Morphing her weapon into a shovel, she used it to move away the rubble out, to reveal a charred body in the wreckage. Standing down next to it, there were no signs of there being any sort of modifications to the body, or of any sort of symptoms indicative of illnesses, so it was likely that the body was not trapped. Said body resembled a 30-year old Japanese man with a basic grey suit with a violet undershirt and black jeans with black dress shoes, the fire scarring most of his face.

While normally one would have marked this individual as dead, considering the Cape's remarks earlier, it was possible that he possessed some sort of Breaker like Alabaster with the ability to 'revive' himself a set amount of times, though this was merely speculation on her part.

"Report Miss Militia?" Armsmaster asked, having finished tying up the downed Merchants and currently waiting for the PRT Vans to arrive.

"A new Cape dubbed Genm had entered a scene, wearing some sort of violet armor." Miss Militia explained. "I've given him both a Tinker rating and a Breaker rating due to his ability to seemingly create a new body upon death, which the Parahuman has claimed to only occur a limited amount of times."

"Hmm... Any other possible information?"

"Yes, assuming this claim to be accurate," she continued as she pointed towards the wreckage, "then this body may possibly be indicative of his true appearance, though that's assuming any new body his power makes is a exact duplicate like in the case of Oni Lee. If this claim is true, then this may be troubling. While I am unsure of the Cape's standing, he possesses Tinkertech capable of altering the landscape and of knocking Parahumans unconscious with ease without needing to fatally damage them."

"Very well, I'll take this into consideration." Armsmaster said as he looked over the scene. As he did, he could not help but wonder as to what kind of genius would have been gifted with a Power such that they could not only create effective armor while evading capture for so long, if they were new, but with an ability to come back from the dead a set amount of times?

The mad genius grinned as his computer displayed the fine handiwork his Critical Strike had done to the Merchants, the Bugster virus slowly prorogating throughout their body.

A fitting end for such scum was the thought that ran through his head, though fortunately for them he had no intention of letting those Merchants die.

No, with his specialized 'finisher', the virus should reach a point in the near future where eventually the Bugsters will manifest from the bodies, which he can then use as test subjects to test his newly developed Gashats on.

Already, he had determined a candidate that he could have use the particular Gashat he was working on, "Beastmon GO". He grinned as he saw that his plan was coming to fruition.

This world, this Earth Bet... It was clear that without geniuses like him, the world has in a sense regressed to an era of strife and conflict, and that these Shards that fueled their powers have merely further enhanced the chaos of this world.

These so-called villains running amok, these so-called heroes failing in their duties to protect the people, it was clear that the planet needed a wake-up call.

Were he like any other Kamen Rider, then his main reason for doing this would be because its the right thing to do. Unfortunately, that wasn't it at all.

His only reason for helping this world was very simple really.

"As the one that will herald a new era," he said to himself, a constant reminder of his new quest. "I shall soon bring forth a new age of life, one that must be unhindered by these low-level players incapable of seeing the bigger picture. Once I rid this world of its filth, I can truly revolutionize it into a new era! That is the path chosen by I, DAN KUROTO"

[darkwalk]

Oh the nuttiness....

To clarify and put a warning label on my Together au; It is halfway to a shattered glass dimension. 

Which means the Autobots are NOT as nice as the normal versions, but not as insane and evil as their opposites. Generally they are chaotically neutral, some chaotically good. Many are criminals, escaped/rescued slaves, running from the law in one form or another and their best description is “mad-max styled urban ninjas”.

Jazz is the worst because I don’t know for sure (and many characters don’t know either) if he’s really insane or if he’s just playing the long game with a goal in mind. OP probably knows but isn’t telling. Optimus himself is perfectly sane (most of the time) but finds great amusement in harassing Megatron to see how long it takes the Con leader to lose his patience and try to punch him. He enjoys aggravating others far too much. Bumblebee is a little shit who looks innocent but could definitely kill you. He steals things on a regular basis because any who don’t know him would never suspect that he would. And he’s not even from the Darklight, so I don’t know what his deal is. 

Ratchet, Prowl, and Ironhide are definitely like their normal versions and put up with (to varying degrees) the nonsense of the others. The rest of the Autobots fall in a general scale from that trio of officer’s calmness/responsibility to the Darklight craziness. Few are actually crazy, they just have a lot of energy and enjoy causing mayhem. 

The Decepticons overall are lawfully to chaotically neutral. Megatron is a tired mech who thinks his life and the rebellion would be much simpler without the Autobots interfering and making trouble. While he’s not “nice”, he’s fair and tries to keep things in order while single-mindedly getting ready to try and take Iacon to force the Council to change. A goal made harder by his allies who love to be random. But at least they’re helping..... in their own way. 

The Autobots also want change and are working against the government, but not nearly as much. Unlike the Decepticons, who number in the hundreds and have a whole city, the Bots are maybe seventy to eighty people total. They’re outnumbered by practically everyone and don’t have the resources to take on the Council. So they’re biding their time by attacking the slave trade and weakening (harassing) the government’s transport and trade systems. 

And that sums up the Together Au. Will it change? I don’t know, head canons are head canons. This thing has already gone off the rails from practically the start. I’ll just have to wait and see.

(To keep this nonsense and craziness from spreading to the other dimensions, I have now barricaded this au with walls, barbed wire, and a force-field. We’ll see if that will actually keep them in.)

[movieswithkevin27]

Free Fire

After loathing Ben Wheatley's last film, High-Rise, my expectations for Free Fire were quite low. Yet, after watching, it is a film that may lose some steam along the way, but it works. Stylish, strongly directed, and terrifically acted, Free Fire manages to invest us in this brief moment at the end of these characters' lives as they engage in a shootout in Boston. Arising out of a weapons deal where one of the men selling the merchandise recognizes one of the buyers as the guy who "bottled" his female cousin and the wrong guns were provided, this hour plus long shootout in an old warehouse is thrilling, engaging, and often quite shocking to watch. Never shying away from violence or unexpected deaths or unexpected characters, Wheatley's film is one that attempts to re-invigorate the action-comedy genre with the kind of spirit found in the work of Quentin Tarantino, but minus all of that distracting plot. Free Fire gets to the good bits and then let's this attractive cast bleed all over the set instead. Like a lead-infused musical, Free Fire hits the right notes and creates sweet music as the bullets fly.

Though never particularly deep - throw-away lines regarding the place of the sale being an old warehouse that made things nobody wants anymore or Brie Larson's anger regarding the "bottling" of some girl do not count - Wheatley is still able to make this one have great depth due to smart writing. Ditching the obvious and ham-fisted symbolism of his prior feature, Wheatley instead makes an action film that develops characters through bullets. With each shot defining loyalty and each line delivering some crucial element of the character, Wheatley is able to somehow make us care about people who should, given the lack of real plot or depth, be rather unmemorable. Yet, many stand out in their own way and become quite easy to root for. Given the size of the cast and often chaotic shooting in this warehouse, it could be easy to lose track of everybody, but the fact that each character feels distinct and distinguishable from one another is quite the achievement. Though it may seem a bit facetious or a low-bar for a film, it is all too often that even character-driven or plot-heavy films begin to lose track of who everybody is and what they mean for the story. Free Fire, however, never has this issue and instead develops its character smartly, without any kerfuffle, and without out any distraction. Instead, it neatly introduces them all, gives them all motivation, shows their bonds or lack thereof with the other characters, and then gives them a gun to fight their way out. Tight and smart, the characters in Free Fire are exactly what they need to be and that is all that can be asked.

Of course, the acting certainly goes a long way in bringing about this appeal for the characters, as the strong acting across-the-board often serves to breathe life and individuality into these characters. As manic gun runner Vernon, Sharlto Copley brings a real wild card element to this film and plays this crazed lunatic incredibly well. Compared to the more straight-laced Justine (Brie Larson) or business-focused Chris (Cillian Murphy), Vernon's insane gun runner is one that brings that fun and care-free element to the film that often makes it such a joy to watch. For their parts, Larson and Murphy also deliver typically strong performances. Alongside them, Armie Hammer's dapper and charismatic Ord may not be totally out of his range, but it is nonetheless yet another role that he really nails. An incredibly unsung actor somehow, Hammer's laid back charisma is one that makes him easy to believe as a middle man between two criminal organizations, who is responsible for setting up the sale. In a smaller role, Sam Riley continues to scream out for roles akin to the one he received as the lead in Anton Corbijn's Control. Somehow sympathetic - perhaps just because I do like Riley's work - and absolutely insane as scumbag Steveo, Riley gives an unhinged and rage-infused performance that hits all the right notes.

Stylistically, Free Fire is an impeccably crafted film with excellent lighting. Relying upon the orange-tinted lighting of the warehouse to provide all of the visibility in the film, the orange tint is appealing visually, but perfect for capturing the era. Set in, presumably, 1970s Boston, the terrific costume design naturally captures much of this, but the lighting further adds to this appeal. Giving it the look of an old photo or a dimly dreamscape of insanity, this orange hue is what defines the look of the film and what adds much of its visual appeal. Wheatley, additionally, injects style via how the shootout is framed. With tight shots of the characters as they hide behind various obstacles, the film rarely shows where the other characters are in relation to whomever is in the shot. However, when it does give a glimpse of where somebody else is hiding, the impending shot in that direction, and then the quick cuts between the locations gives the film that sense of urgency and frantic energy that is necessitated by the storyline. Similarly, by keeping the characters and the audience in the dark regarding where people are hiding, Wheatley is able to ramp up the tension and mystery without having to actually do any writing about either. Instead, with this vast abandoned warehouse at his disposal, he neatly creates the ominous atmosphere found in the film and the resultant tension as each bullet is fired with a possibly unknown target on the other end is what makes this film such a thrilling piece of entertainment.

While not the most essential work ever made, Free Fire is a far less aggravating experience than director Ben Wheatley's previous effort, perhaps because it is everything that film is not. Entertaining, not pretentious, terrifically acted, and with excellent characters coming through to-the-point dialogue and writing, Free Fire is a film that may be just about a shootout, but it proves to be mightily entertaining with characters who are hard to part from at the end.

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6 Simple Rules to Keep Your Mind Sharp and Ward off Memory Loss

Do by yourself notice that your intellect progressively loses its pounds soon after your 30th birthday? This mind reduction indicates much less electric power for oneself towards find out and continue to keep your head sharp. Until eventually lately, experts Dementia Care NJ concept this design and style of head reduction was irreversible. The very good information is that researchers had been erroneous relating to this, and presently we notice there is substantially yourself can do in direction of fight thoughts decline. Numerous existence alternatives can maximize your mind plasticity. Head plasticity is the intellect's power in direction of big difference its buildings and features toward meet up with altering predicaments, study contemporary components, and get rid of against personal injury.

Optimizing your mind plasticity might reduce and compensate for the thoughts decline that comes about with ageing. And basically which includes a enterprise that downsizes, the head could possibly boost just after downsizing with considerably superior re-business enterprise and far more efficiency. Inside of this report, we discover 6 primary pursuits yourself can just take toward improve your intellect plasticity. Such will support your self enhance your head electric power, presently and in just the upcoming. It particularly thus transpires that such pursuits too increase your general lifetime good quality as nicely.

Rule #1: Trouble Your Thoughts

For a extended year experts debated a Rooster and egg ponder concerning psychological loss. Is it a absence of participating functions for the thoughts that contributes toward psychological reduction? Or, is psychological loss the purpose americans do not interact their minds? A Really good investigate in opposition to Hurry Professional medical College or university within 2012 furnished the 1st proof for the option and it is Wonderful information for all of us. The research uncovered that it is the absence of psychological engagement that contributes in the direction of loss. Consistent psychological stimulation prospects toward superior psychological doing work. And even greater, oneself do not have to have toward do any extravagant or snazzy actions in the direction of motivate your mind. ANY routines that crank out your self believe, research, or recall will do. The mentally stimulating pursuits in just this analyze integrated reading through the newspaper, crafting letters, and participating in video games this kind of as chess and checkers. As a different reward, preserving your mind engaged additionally creates oneself much more open up, multipurpose, and innovative. This is in accordance in direction of yet another investigation created within the June 2012 subject of Psychology and Growing older.

Rule #2: Be Social

Not simply does a very good relationship with All those deliver pleasure toward your existence, it way too counters thoughts decline. Scientific studies contain detailed that if your self are even more socially hectic, oneself will incorporate fewer psychological reduction within just outdated age, and a reduced probability for dementia and Alzheimer&s. Oneself do not have to have in direction of incorporate 1000 upon Fb toward include a Terrific social romantic relationship with people today. All by yourself will need is accurately a single enriching and maintaining romantic relationship. This can be with a good friend, a lover, a household member and so on.

Rule #3: Pay for Aggravation

Long-term annoyance can hasten thoughts reduction inside of parts of the head concerning memory, finding out, and govt attributes. In the meantime, the identical continual irritation enlarges an Room of the intellect that tends to make oneself excess worried. An very clear strategy toward package with stressors is in direction of eradicate or rid oneself of them completely. Still this is typically not inside of your ability. Luckily for us, even while by yourself are not equipped toward variance a lot of exterior conditions, your self can afford to pay for them for the greater. Oneself can much too difference the course your self appearance at annoyance in just tactics that effort and hard work much better for on your own and your thoughts. For example, by yourself frequently can choose a alternative see by way of conversing in the direction of another person else. Or, getting a crack in direction of do factors that provide by yourself satisfaction may possibly additionally do your “mind” some constructive. Health and fitness can way too be a superb strain buster.

Check out meditation for anxiety reduction. Present experiments indicate that meditation encourages the enhancement of the thoughts locations comparable in direction of focus and govt characteristics. Meditation can be done inside substitute methods and on your own could be Really impressed in direction of understand that absolutely sure styles of meditation are very simple for by yourself. Inside of long run article content I will invest far more insurance policies toward annoyance manage.

Rule #4: Overcome Melancholy

The effects of despair upon the intellect is comparable toward that of continual pressure, yet is additional really serious. At times whenever a apprehensive relatives member or mate of a affected individual suspects that the affected individual consists of dementia, a person of the 1st elements I do is in the direction of produce indeed it is NOT incredibly despair alternatively. There are 2 variations of melancholy. The variation involving them is no matter if or not they allow for oneself in the direction of provide out your day by day pursuits and specific associations.

It is beautifully all-natural in the direction of appear to be down and frustrated for shorter times following some setbacks. In just this circumstance we can afford to pay for the stressors as described former. Once in a while the truly feel of doom and gloom versus stressors, or for no crystal clear motive at all, may well ultimate for much more than a several months. The feel of doom does not search towards be lifting at all. This is what we get hold of primary melancholy within health care educate. For this fashion of serious melancholy, oneself want towards view a knowledgeable. Fortunately, there are productive solutions for despair. All those may well include things like counseling such as cognitive remedy and getting guaranteed medicine. Far more and additional, we are obtaining that People therapies minimize melancholy and assistance confident elements of the head get well versus mind decline.

Rule #5: Try to eat Perfectly towards Improve Head Ability

Do by yourself comprehend that your thoughts produces up merely 2% of your physique fat, yet utilizes up 20% of the electrical energy and nutrition towards your meals? Feeding on effectively for your head is for this reason. Within obtain for your intellect toward repair service injury and produce further more clean cells in the direction of re-Deliver what could be dropped, yourself need to have in direction of offer it with the simplest coming up with content material in opposition to your foods. This indicates feeding on positive protein against fish, insane, legumes, eggs, very low-excess weight dairy products and solutions, and lean meats. Get pleasure from a lot of veggies and culmination. And, consume comprehensive grains in the direction of Deliver your thoughts great contemporary gas in the direction of operate easily.

Rule #6: Conditioning and Dwell Chaotic

Bodily actions include by yourself in just innumerable substitute strategies versus mind decline by way of bettering memory and mastering. A single direction health assists is as a result of optimizing the connections amongst your head cells. One more is by means of selling stimulating electric power for the generation of organic and natural concerns toward produce further mind cells.

Physical fitness boosts the high-quality of other guidance applications within your physique that your intellect is dependent upon in the direction of perform at its great and towards regenerate by itself. 1 of Those courses is your cardiovascular method, which features your centre and blood vessels.Comprehending this aids us produce a extremely simple romantic relationship ― what is Fantastic for your centre is positive for your thoughts.

Target for 20-30 minutes of actual physical match a worAssisted Living NJ

king day. Combining aerobic conditioning, vitality performing exercises, and versatility moves delivers the excellent total work out. Continue to keep looking at toward take a look at the keys for defusing ticking health and fitness bombs that may perhaps be lurking in just your overall body. Exactly where oneself will far too come across Hospice Care NJ further guidelines and Plans for an hectic and partaking daily life that may perhaps do the job least difficult for your self. And check out the professional medical tricks important in the direction of realize hence by yourself can reside a much better, extended, healthy lifestyle.