#the absolute gall of this man omg

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

When Steve Huxter - former head of animal care and training at the infamous SeaLand of the Pacific - calls you a “pro cap shit stirrer” for sharing very real facts about Ric O’Barry beating a dolphin, killing dolphins through irresponsible release ect….

I mean… Like…. damn dude at least I didn’t abuse killer whales for a living and leave one traumatised so badly that he killed 3 people.

[magicxc]

Sizes

Pairings: Survey Corps - their dick sizes

Word Count: 857

Warnings: none

A/N: this is so self indulgent, it aint even funny lol. Please enjoy what I think the bois are packing.

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren - 9.5 inches

Phew I mean, this doesn’t take too much explaining…at least for me. Eren legit had the gall to wipe out 80% of the population so I can only imagine that he has the balls to match. It’s safe to say our boy is all bark and bite cause he’s absolutely backing up whatever the fuck he says. Needless to say, you need to be PREPPED before penetration.

Levi - 6.5

As my personal favorite of the bunch, daddy Levi is absolutely still working with sumn, okay!!! Let's not count our short king out the race. Matter of fact, I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar that Levi is giving you THEE best seggs. As fun as size kinks are, let's be real, it hurts before it pleases. And 6.5 is like the perfect length to comfortably kiss your cervix. That stamina? His insomnia? The low, sultriness of his voice? Yeahh, you can kiss a good night's rest goodbye and your pussy will absolutely thank you for it. It’s been said that Levi is one of the best in terms of ODM use because of how quick he is while maneuvering the gear and the way it’s used is by the wearers shifting a lot of their weight to their pelvis for movement. Once again YOUR PUSSY WILL THANK YOU! 

Erwin - 7.5

Though the Commander stands tall above his peers, he has some muscle mass to him and therefore I consider him a girthy fellow. Keep in mind this is the same man who stared down Reiner in his armor titan form, all the while being short one arm. It's been said that the horses that the scouts ride are bred specifically to outrun titans but what they leave out is that Erwins horse is bred specifically to carry balls as heavy as his. Lmfaoo this man is BRAVE, just daring a mf to try some shit. And he absolutely carries that trait into the bedroom as well. 

Connie - 7.5

Connie has always given me goofball vibes. That “huh” ass mf was sorta the comedic relief to the show and it’s like omg you brought dick too?? Funny men be getting me ngl jksjsks. It’s been said that Connie views the Scouts training almost like a summer camp and while he made the top ten his competitive edge doesn’t really set in until he sees someone doing better than him lol. I genuinely don’t think dick size matters to him all that much so when he becomes sexually active and gets so much praise, it’s like ohh wow - new kink unlocked.

Jean - 10 inches

I'm willing to physically debate this lmao. This is probably the only thing he’ll beat Eren in, but I whole heartedly believe that Jean is packing a SCHLONG. He’s always stood above his peers throughout the show and as he ages, it’s more prominent. Tall and skinny men are literally always packing and those pencils wanna write in every book. Mans would absolutely put Mikasa through a mattress if given the chance.

Onyankopon - 8.5 inches

Even though Ony doesn’t get a whole lotta screen time, I can safely assume his length here. This is the same man who fucking DARED Floch to kill him AFTER witnessing him kill a few others for refusing to fall in line. You wanna talk about standing on business? Ohhh Ony’s your man through and through. Mans is always fighting for the greater good and even willing to sacrifice his life for the cause; it’s safe to say you’d bark if he asked you to. 

Reiner - 7.0

Ok hear me out, mans is GIRTHY. And 7 inches isn’t a bad place to be at all. Very rarely do those beefcake ass men have length, but that doesn’t mean they're lacking. In fact, I’ll take it a step further and guess that Reiners smeat curves left. CHANGE MY MIND. Any man strong enough to wield that heavy ass armor titan is absolutely knocking the cobwebs off that pwussy. Needless to say, prep is still a must.

Armin - 7.0

Its certainly the quiet ones that shock you the most. Have you ever interacted with a chill and laid back man? It's definitely a reason for that and Armin is no exception. Although I consider him the least experienced, keep in mind that he is a QUICK learner. Every contort of your face and shift of your body is all the notes he needs to take to properly learn how to work your body over. And soon, you’ll be able to mold him to your perfect sex partner. That, coupled with his sweet attitude and sincere personality; sigh that bitch Annie really struck gold with this one. 

Floch - 8.0

If you look up unhinged in the dictionary, you’d literally find a picture of Floch. Many can make the argument that he may be overcompensating for something, but I di-fucking-gress. Even though he can be a bit off the walls, it truly was for good reason and all in the name of his country and THAT, my friends, is big dick behavior.

[midgardian-witch]

Idk if you're accepting like, prompts, rn. But I got this tooth rottingly sweet fluff idea from a post by @sokovianfortune . She got this Wolf Man plush. And my instant thought (after 'I want one') was Jack gifting his SO one to cuddle whenever they can't be together bc of the full moon, or whatever. I guess my love of Wolf Boy 🐺 and stuffed animals brought out the (deeply buried) sap in me. 🥺

Omg that plush is so sweet! 🥺 I have a bunch of stuffed animals myself so I absolutely get that (and might get that plush 👀)

I currently don't have the energy for full fics from requests or prompts but I can give you this:

you had told Jack time and time again how much you miss and worry about him when he is gone (especially on a Full Moon)

so when he gives you a cute werewolf plush that eerily reminds you of him you're first thought is 'where did he get this???'

the second thought is 'fuck, I love this man' because this might be the cutest thing anyone has ever done for you

"So you don't miss my too much, mi vida," he says and has the gall to look at you with those damn puppy eyes that make your heart skip a beat

you're melting right in front of him and he has the audacity to look worried about wether or not you like the plush

you wrap your arms around his neck (plush still in hand) and pull Jack into a hug

"I'll always miss you. But this? This'll make it a little better."

after kissing your favorite wolfman silly you take a step back and look at him, a radiant smile on your face and your new plush pressed close to your chest

"He's adorable." "Then you should give him a name." "What about 'Jackie'? 'cause he's a little you!"

Jack smiles at you and laughs, nodding

"Sure, Jackie then. Little Jackie will keep you company while I am...otherwise occupied."

[starheirxero]

They've finally given us a break from the angst! :D And have given us so much lore, golly gee-

First of all👆: HELL YEAH SUN, GO OFF!!! Seeing him talk back to Eclipse and the Creator has healed me!

After these episodes, the Creator has officially gained the first place for biggest god complex- WE HAVE A LITERAL GOD ECLIPSE, AND HE SOMEHOW OUT-COMPLEXES HIM, HOW THE HELL IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?? Mfer is taking it to a whole new level! At least God Eclipse stays in his own damn dimension!

As for Ruin…he is so interesting, HELP- How does he know all this??👀 Who is he??? I am very certain now, that he lied to Bloodmoon about his creation! He did say he "suffered one", which can have a lot of implications. Of course there's the obvious, which is what he did to their dimension, but there is also the possibility, that Ruin was never a daycare attendant at all. Maybe he was created for the virus, and was kept around by his creator?🤔 Maybe their relationship was a lot more personal??

There's also the dimensions in general! We know Stitchwraith's origin now, or at least the reason for it. There are only thirteen in all the dimensions combined👀 It really makes me hope for a deeper look into the multiverse in general!

But there's also Eclipse. And then there is Lunar. Both of them actively defy fate.

Most Eclipses die, be it still in Sun, or shortly after. Yet our Eclipse keeps on dragging himself out of his grave. He dies and keeps dying, yet he won't. stay. dead. He actively laughs in death's face. And that is so intriguing!

And there's of course everything surrounding Lunar. For one, the Creator wants to use them. It's so ironic, to be honest. They were created to be used, and now that they finally want to move on, want to leave this part of their life behind, there's this giant, looming threat, wanting to use them again. And unlike other villains, this one cannot be stopped! This one is on another level, and not even Moon knows what to do about him!

There are also their powers. This wasn't supposed to happen. And the way Ruin worded it, it seems that Lunar is the first of a kind! And it makes me wonder why. What makes our Lunar different? What makes them so special? Was it really just a cosmic storm? Or was there a higher power involved? I an literally shaking in my seat about it!

Also, on a side note: the amount of angst possibilities Ruin has opened up by talking about what the creator council would do to Lunar, Jesus christ-

-Stardust

RIGHT LMAO back to your regularly scheduled external horrors!! 😁

GHOD YEA SUN JUST CAME OUT GUNS A-BLAZING THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY WILD 2 ME. My man is at his LIMIT!!!

AND GHOD YEA THE CREATOR. THIS MAN HAS SOME GALL. Honestly tho the fact that he wants to use Lunar's star power is a sign to me that Ruin probably wasn't at all lying or exaggerating about the Creator Council's motives. Honestly, he was probably the one who gave them the idea in the first place 😭

AND RUIN,,, HONESTLY YEA I'VE BEEN WONDERING THE SAME THING. If all of this is so multiversal, it raises SO many questions as to how Ruin knows about things like their plans and motives. MAN if it turns out that Ruin was basically a living weapon made to stand next to the creator, I will go INSANE. (Smth smth Lunar n Eclipse parallels too.....)

ANS AUAAGAGGHHH YEA THE WORLDS OMG. The fact that most Eclipses die is smth both insanely tragic and insanely ironic to me. Like it's so sad to think that so many of them didn't make it past our Eclipse's point and just,, died alone and bitter in a body that wasn't their own. But also it's almost unfathomable bc like u said, that man does NOT STAY DOWN.

AND LUNAR,,,, GHOD YEA LUNAR. It makes sense if they're one of a kind because honestly, if there were others who had star power literally threaded into their being, the Creators could have easily gone for that person instead, yk?? But that fact is simultaneously horrifying and intriguing tbh HDJAHAJS BUT ITS LIKE U SAID, WHAT MAKES THEM SPECIAL HERE.

THERE'S SO MICH FUN STUFF REVEALED FROM THOSE TWO EPS LIKE AOAUAGAHGHHH EXCITING!!!!

[fanficfanattic]

💙: How do they show love when they’re busy, drained, or otherwise unable to show it to the degree they usually do?

?? Regale us with your wisdom please!!

OMG. THIS WAS NOT MEANT TO GO TO THIS LMAO. IT’S FINE. I’M FINE. Lolol.

Roy Was Never Loaned Out (and what that means for season one)

Ask

So I have been kicking this around for ages in absolutely self-indulgent terrible Call Out Post style conversational vignettes. But the missing piece to that puzzle just occurred to me.

Ted knows so little about Football that I am fairly sure that he doesn’t actually know what On Loan means. Let alone what that means for Jamie. And we obviously have no idea the background history for most of the players. But we know that there is no way in hell that Roy was ever loaned out.

So feasibly there is no one there who really gets what it means. Probably Cartwright did for how little that’s worth. But the general idea is that Richmond is not Jamie’s club. He might actually still be getting paid through them rather than Richmond. Man City is his home club. If he’d still been at Richmond, he wouldn’t have been able to play the relegation match.

Ted doesn’t seem to fully grasp the specifics of Jamie’s loan contract. Rebecca certainly wouldn’t have gone out of her way to get Ted up to speed on HR shit. So he was pulling from his existing coaching experience which was at the collegiate level. With students.

He doesn’t know what he doesn’t know about the dynamics of it all. And he does not give much evidence to indicate he sought that out before barbecue-saucing his way in. Like jfc Ted. What the fuck?

Was Jamie a prick and a little shit? Yes, absolutely. (I love him, your honor).

But was he probably confused as fuck about why Ted kept trying to integrate him into a team he wouldn’t be with a few months later? YES! Absolutely!

And this fits into the greater Mind Games concept. Like obviously Jamie’s dad gave him the strongest foundation for that trauma issue. But I’d put money down that he didn’t think Pep was doing that with him. And Roy was straightforward so he didn’t have anything from that end.

Just mysterious Beard. And mental Lasso. And score the goals but pass so others score the goals. Like his contract wouldn’t say Score X Amount of Goals. But the Man City reason behind the loan would suggest scoring goals is the quickest way to moving up the ladder at his home club.

Anyway I have a lot of thoughts, thanks!

Some snippets of the self-indulgent nonsense under the cut.

Multiple Snippets from the cleverly titled Mind Games

“I know how to physically pass a ball. It’s how we get to the box. But I don’t just magically find meself standing there! I put meself in position to take the shot. You know, on purpose! If I’m where I’m supposed to be, with the ball, why am I passing? For fun? To manipulate someone else’s stats? To risk possession switching?”

“No! I’m not done yet, Roy, cause you don’t fucking see it yet, do you?

Not passing to me is more important to you than scoring goals. And you have the gall to act surprised that I don’t rely on you to get me the ball? That I take it from midfield to the box all on me own?

I’m doing everything I can to put points on the table so y’all don’t get regulated! A team I’m not even really on! Why do I care more about that than you? The captain!

Where you stand at the end of this season shouldn’t matter to me because at the end of it, I go back to me actual club. Man City. You might be familiar with them? You play against them in a couple of weeks. Which I am contractually not allowed to play during. Since Man City is me actual club! Remember that?

And I don’t tell anyone where they should be for me to pass to. That’s what you’re supposed to do instead of pretending there are only 10 people on the pitch.

You won’t visualize and tell us where to be. So we have to do that ourselves. And if I am the one telling me where to go, I’ll always choose to go do me fucking job. Which is score!”

It’s frustrating as fuck and Roy’s the only other person who can tell how messed up this is. And you aren’t listening to him any more than me, cause he keeps telling you to stop making me your playmaker! Do you know how fucked it is that the two players who hate each other most are the only two actually in sync?

[ghost-proofbaby]

“You didn’t do anything wrong, alright? I… It’s me. My problem, I’ll deal with it. Please just… let me deal with it, okay?” 

Oh Eddie honey, he likes her so much he really can’t handle it. Does he honestly believe she hates him at this point?? The boy is an idiot.

“Amongst the quick back and forth, you have to bite your tongue. You want to scream, no. No, I don’t want to sleep, because if I sleep, I’m missing this. I may never get this again; I can’t risk this. “

🎶I don’t wanna clooose my eyes, I don’t wanna fall asleep cause I’ll miss you baby, and I don’t wanna miss a thing 🎶

“You shrug, and stand as his arms fall from around you. You miss that weight – you always miss the fucking weight of him.”

Real talk, the fucking weight of him is just delicious. 10/10 would cradle Eddie in my arms.

“Stop?” he laughs, fingers momentarily slowing but not quite stopping, “Have I made you yet, baby?”

Your laughs die silently. All the air finally leaves your lungs, and you officially can only breathe in him. 

Baby.”

Oh fuck me.

“Wide, brown eyes meet yours. He’s close enough to kiss. One impulsively lurch forward, and your lips would be back on his. His tongue in your mouth, his hands on your hips, his own hips settled between your thighs – all of this is so, so palpable. And all it would take is one movement.”

OMG STOP BEING SILLY COWARDS

The absolute GALL you had to call this hour boring, Ghost, even as a joke. The sexual tension is out of this world. They better make proper love SOON

hey man listen in retrospect all they did was tease each other like little kids, say some silly nicknames, and both internally panic a whole bunch.

they could be making much better use of their time.

like sleeping, obviously. get y'all's minds out of the gutter

[taegularities]

Im sorry but the hate YOU got on that website is the most unreasonable one to me. they hate you for writing only for jk and tae ? saying that this isnt artistic and that you have no vision bc you only can write for two members ? WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTT listen, HOW bored can ppl be ? can y‘all author not even choose the members y‘all write for 💀

apparently i can't choose who i write for cos i gotta produce stuff for entitled anons who act like i don't write fics for free and till 3am into the night 🤣 but yeah, i guess i’m bland, boring and not creative

[why-am-i-here-someone-save-me]

I saw that your requests are open so pls hear me out! (Only if you want to)

Sagau where the characters saw that god!reader has tattoos about a certain bard or anemo boys. Like their back is full of anemo themed and venti themed tattoos + on the chest and on the thigh they have the same tattoo as venti's!!

I'm sorry but i'm having a Venti brainrot. I love him so much i want to cry!

Went with some Headcannons rather than a full fic! Hope this is satisfactory for ya!

Creator has Anemo themed tattoos!

Oh lord.

Oh no.

Oh archons you have no idea what you’ve just enabled.

Venti is a menace.

The absolute EGO of this manchild after hearing of this.

The absolute GALL.

As a wise man once said, The FUCKING AUDACITY.

He’s like a little kid on their birthday. Practically vibrating he’s so excited.

Meanwhile the rest of the Archons are arranging a group therapy session on Thursdays.

Zhongli and Ei: 🗿

Kusanali: 🥺

Tsarita: 😒

All of Mondstadt is popping off because “omfg the creator favors our god?!”

People with Anemo visions are immediately the center of attention, because “did you hear the creator favors Anemo?” “Omg no way!”. (Rip Xiao)

Venti has basically attached himself to your side.

He goes everywhere with you.

Also drags you to Angel’s Share with him.

Diluc still charges him for drinks though.

Yours are on the house. 😉

Diluc will probably not be quite as harsh on Venti when your there with him, cause like. He’s got decency; he’s not gonna give his lazyass god shit with the creator hanging out right there.

Bonus points if you have an Anemo symbol near your heart. Venti will probably be so happy he’ll cry.

Expect hugs.

Like. A lot of hugs.

A loooooot of hugs.

He’s very physically affectionate.

Also it helps him to remind himself that no, he’s not hallucinating, you actually have his symbol on your body.

Overall very excited; and very very veeeery smug.

Radiating ‘Smug Bastard Manlet’ energy 24/7

[comradepingu]

I hate those br*tish conservatives/patriots and also all the people making such a big deal of the queen dying so much. Dipshits unironically getting pissed that people whose countries were exploited, colonized and raped by the British empire (quite a bit of which during her reign) are happy that she died. Literally shut the fuck up.

That system that she represented and knowingly participated in killed and maimed so many and yet the thing that makes you go "oh the inhumanity" is people being slightly mean online??? Fuck you man. Oh yeah to think that JEFF FUCKING BEZOS had the gall to make a tweet shitting on a black woman activist for celebrating the queens' death and saying that she was not making the world better. My guy you literally sit on a mountain of undeserved wealth and treat your workers like dog shit you don't get to criticize anyone's morality literally kill yourself omg

Oh yeah why are these ppl so vehemently defending the monarchy and queen like their life depends on it anyway bitch she doesn't even know you exist you mean absolutely nothing to her. Literally jackshit. Your tax money is gonna be used to pay for an extremely lavish state funeral when so many ppl in your country don't even have proper heating and insulation in their houses??? (Oh yeah now that Russian gas imports have stopped this is going to be an even worse problem than it already is) Literal brainless dick riding literally go get a life istg

[safarigirlsp]

I love the opening!! I’m always partial to witch trials and witch hunters and the allegory is great!

The sight of Flip with that evil book sends Prescilla’s mind racing, flashing back to moments she had only heard and read about. Stern magistrates, cruel in their cassocks and tall black buckled hats, wielding similar evil books and using them as a sword and a shield to send her sisters into the swallowing maws of flames and waters.

You do such a great job with all the red signs and imagery. I really love that. Especially from your hot redhead OC!

This is such a perfect description! And so in character for one of those women 🤣

Maddy herself has long been one of those women, prepared to sell the heart right out of her chest for the accidental morsels of affection that fall from a man’s table. Somehow, she still had the gall to look down on them. Perhaps it was the only way to live with herself.

I love this!

“The stupid look on his face. Only one thing makes a man as smart as him look that dumb. Despite everything, I’m kind of jealous. That’s the thing we all live for, what we all hope to find. The fireworks.”

I love the paragraph! Your writing is so gorgeous in this story!! Much much better than Hoffman. You’d do better with everything in the PM series, especially not nose diving it!

They sit in the quiet kitchen, like two deposed queens, having incurred the wrath of an irascible king, waiting for their executioner with a grim resolve. Courage Tea, a blend of currants, spices, and thyme, made for protection and healing, makes clear one should never hide who one is. It provides bravery and grit, and reminds the drinker only two things matter, left at the core when all others peel away. Truth and love.

This is such a beautiful description and perfect image! I love getting inside Flips head like this! And I love what we see.

He can feel himself embedded in her, just as he feels her. The knife he turns inside himself.

Flip gives a smoldering smile and can’t stop his eyes from raking up and down her body anymore than he can stop himself breathing. It seems the privilege of taking his breath away resides now only with Prescilla.

I absolutely love their tension and chemistry in the hothouse! That’s another thing that’s hard to capture in writing and you do it perfectly! I can feel it as I’m reading!

“So you’re saying there is a craft? That you’re a witch?” his eyes sparkle and go comically wide at the word he has yet to believe in.

I especially love this exchange! 😈

“Yeah. We dance naked under the moon as bonfires burn, and kiss men under blossoming trees after midnight.”

“I’d have to wait until midnight?” Flip asks in a low, deep voice and feels how little air is left in the tiny garden.

Omg the smoking porn is so hot and on point as always!

Flip runs a hand through his hair, smoothing the inky waves away from his face as he bites a cigarette out of the pack.

This is such a great line!

“I have a lot to do still, and I need to check out in the morning…” he rattles off excuses as if he’s trying to flee her bed after seducing her into it. Only all his clothes are on and no one’s stopping him from leaving.

And omg the goodnight kiss was beautifully written and sensual!

She’s smoldering like a red piece of coal, searing him where she touches, and he digs his hands into her hips. The sting of pain makes her gasp out and part her lips for him. Then he’s breathing in her fire and everything goes red.

I love this story! This is really what I’d hoped to get the first time I picked up a Hoffman book, but where she was a let down, you kill it every time! You write much better than her and are able to create an image and a feeling much better, plus you write men a hundred times better than she does, which is something I always found lacking in her writing. I really love and appreciate manly men, and it’s rare to find a woman who even knows wtf one is! You always nail it with them and it makes it so nice to read! I really just can’t with the wimpy little pencil neck nerds (even when most women describe men as big and tough, this is still what they are 🤦🏻‍♀️), but that’s never a concern with you and the hot cocky bastards you write! 💗

[flip zimmerman x practical magic] 3

CW: all the angst, mentions of prejudice/bullying/misogyny, messed up family dynamics, and a lot of pining

WC: ~6.1k

*

The sight of Flip with that evil book sends Prescilla’s mind racing, flashing back to moments she had only heard and read about. Stern magistrates, cruel in their cassocks and tall black buckled hats, wielding similar evil books and using them as a sword and a shield to send her sisters into the swallowing maws of flames and waters. While she doesn’t believe deep down Flip has any such intentions, she can’t seem to catch her breath for the rest of the day. She goes home early, leaving a disgruntled Carla in her wake, moping at the loss of her company. She understands Prescilla has good reason to go, but she is still miffed and mutters under her  breath that the Colorado detective came across like a real dunce at several points.

Prescilla whirls into the house like a storm, stomping loudly up the stairs as she ignores Maddy’s greeting and subsequent barrage of questions. She topples to her knees on the wooden floor of the attic and whips furiously through the Hallewell women’s secret book. Prescilla leaves through the pages like a tornado, hardly caring if she rips any of the thick grainy paper out.

All she lands on are iterations of love spells and a hundred different ways to call love to you. Mix henna with limes, roses, tea, and eucalyptus and let it simmer overnight. The hue of henna reflects the strength of a woman’s love for a man. The thicker and deeper the shade, the more powerful the love. Prescilla’s steaming cups of tea had shifted from clear reddish brown liquids into thick opaque brews, as black as strong coffee all day. She slams on.

The book offers her instruction on how to fashion amulets with apple seeds, the fruit which signifies the heart in all its delicious redness, meant to bring the wearer love. Her eyes well up in frustration and she rocks nervously above the book splayed open on the floor. A tear falls on the coarse page and stains the paper red. It’s there only for a moment and then it’s absorbed as if it never fell.

The salt of her anguish grants Prescilla temporary reprieve and the book next opens on a page dedicated to those who seek to gain willpower and say no to a lover who would bring only heartbreak. Prescilla knows it’s what she’s been looking for all day. A bath of rosemary and lavender oil. Some of these protective, healing ingredients are found in their black soap. There isn’t time for a bath, but Prescilla marches out of the attic and blows right through Maddy, who’s been banging on her locked door and shrieking to be let in. Maddy careens into the wall and immediately upon finding her feet again follows Prescilla into the bathroom. She enters on her heels without missing a beat and sits on the edge of the bathtub, chewing on what remains of her nails as Prissy undresses behind the curtain and throws her clothes on the bathroom floor.

The bathroom steams up quickly, more, it seems, from Prescilla’s flushed skin than the hot water and the cloying scent of black soap perfumes the air. Maddy takes a deep breath of it and the darkness behind her lids becomes thinner and less daunting. Goddess, that stuff is good.

“If you’re not gonna leave me to shower in peace, at least make yourself useful and grab me a towel,” Prescilla spits and takes aim through the curtain to shove at Maddy’s shoulder. She slips off the edge of the tub and pokes a bony elbow through the screen separating them in retaliation. But then a minute later, she’s back with a large fluffy towel and a cigarette between her lips.

Prescilla wraps the towel around her dripping form and steps out, not even looking up as she yanks the unlit cigarette from between her sister’s glossy bowtie lips and breaks it in two before throwing it down the toilet.

“Prissy,” Maddy grumbles and sticks her thumb into her mouth again, looking for anything she can gnaw off.

“I just, I can’t believe you,” she shakes her head in disappointment, as if she has any leg to stand on. Prescilla is counting to ten, and then to one again, feeling herself lose the battle to irritation. “We only just barely got away with it last time, and you have to go and invite him back!”

Prescilla is surprised when she doesn’t snap. Instead, she just gets sad over Maddy’s ignorance. “Do you really believe that? Even a tiny bit? Maddy, wake up! We did not get away with anything. He didn’t buy a single word you said and maybe you’d have noticed if you weren’t too busy—“ She cuts herself off, but the damage is done.

Maddy knows how she’s perceived. How not? Hasn’t she been told, time and again? By the gym teacher who kissed her and put his hands up her shirt in grade school, exactly what she was and what she was worth? By the girls and women that were dating or married to the men who took her out and bought her the expensive things her pretty eyes landed on and coveted? By employers and sneering neighbors, and even by her sister?

She gives the sister a contemptuous smile. The kind that says she has not forgiven the comment and Prescilla will be reminded of it the next time they argue and Maddy is losing. “So you can read his mind now?” she scoffs and crosses her arms.

“No, but I don’t need to,” Prescilla sighs and walks towards the kitchen with a defeated tread.

“It’s so dangerous!” the admonition sounds hollow coming out of Maddy’s mouth, who barged into the house not six months ago with a black eye, an empty wallet, driving a corpse in a stolen car. “How can you do this to me?” she stomps her foot when Prescilla doesn’t react and calmly sets about brewing some Courage Tea. “To Jet?” she demands next, none of the former childish panic in her tone remaining.

Prescilla’s hackles rise and she slams two cups on the table, glaring at the varnished wood. If she looks up, she knows it’ll come to blows. Jet is as much a part of her as Maddy is, and she has done everything to protect her. Even bury her father in the garden so he’s always in their sights, but they’re forever out of his reach.

“Are you going to become like one of those women?” Maddy fires off the last hurtful question she has in her arsenal. After that, she’ll resort to hair pulling and tears, but she can see the final shot found its mark. What passed between Prissy and that hunky detective that made Maddy’s spine tingle was undeniable. Although she wanted that for Prescilla – hell, she wanted it for herself too if she was perfectly honest – nothing mattered more in this moment than keeping Jet safe. And to do that, she and Prissy had to stay out of jail.

Prescilla’s heart squeezes. She knows exactly who Maddy is talking about. She doesn’t point out that Maddy herself has long been one of those women, prepared to sell the heart right out of her chest for the accidental morsels of affection that fall from a man’s table. Somehow, she still had the gall to look down on them. Perhaps it was the only way to live with herself.

“I saw it, Prissy, okay?” she relents as she takes a cup of tea. “The stupid look on his face. Only one thing makes a man as smart as him look that dumb. Despite everything, I’m kind of jealous. That’s the thing we all live for, what we all hope to find. The fireworks.”

Prescilla takes a sip of scorching tea. Maddy doesn’t know how right she is. If she hadn’t invited Flip back, those same fireworks very well might have burnt their house down.

“But please…” Maddy starts again emphatically. Prescilla stops her.

“I know. I know.”

*

They sit in the quiet kitchen, like two deposed queens, having incurred the wrath of an irascible king, waiting for their executioner with a grim resolve. Courage Tea, a blend of currants, spices, and thyme, made for protection and healing, makes clear one should never hide who one is. It provides bravery and grit, and reminds the drinker only two things matter, left at the core when all others peel away. Truth and love.

The tea gives Prescilla not courage, like she hopes, but madness. The madness of truth. She knows she’ll tell him everything if he only asks.

When they hear his tires crunch up loose gravel in their driveway, Maddy runs off like a frightened hare. Prescilla stands and takes the old iron key that hangs by the back door. She’s aware she’ll need it and she no longer bothers to question why.

*

Prescilla crosses the hothouse and stands in the open doorway, back straight, a pleasant hum in her ears.

Jettie has found Flip first. She flits over to him like a butterfly, in a puffy jacket zipped all the way to her lips. Her boots are red and her black ringlets stick out from under her woolen cap. Jet has inquisitive green eyes that sparkle as they zoom this way and that, and is unself-conscious as she examines the tall man her mother warned her would be coming today.

“Do you have a gun?” she chirps her question happily, excited to see one in person after only seeing them flash on TV.

“Mhm,” Flip’s lips thin out into a line as he places his hands on his hips and looks down at the fairy child whose pompom doesn’t even reach his navel.

“Can I see it?” she is impish, like her mother, well-aware that what she’s asking for is not allowed - but. But that never stops a certain sort of Hallewell.

His eyes are drawn to Prescilla’s form, haloed in fiery red as she leans against the hothouse door. She is tall and stern in a black sweater and a long skirt, arms crossed patiently over her chest.

Her expression is clear and Flip snaps his head back at Jet obediently. “Uh-uh.”

Jet deflates momentarily. It was a long shot, but she deems it worth it. Then her mood lifts again and she hops off in the direction of her aunt. “He’s here, he’s here for you, aunt Prissy!” Jet announces as she skips past her and sheds her cap and jacket, running inside the house.

Flip’s mustache twitches with a small smile and he finds he’s beginning to understand Prescilla’s eschewing of outer layers. Suddenly his sheepskin coat is oppressively hot and he runs a cooling hand over the back of his neck, already dewed with nervous sweat.

“I’d like to talk to you some more. Prescilla,” he adds and it’s a coy prayer to her, to open up to him.

She nods, looking none too happy. He’s a bullet that needs extracting before she can start to heal. He can feel himself embedded in her, just as he feels her. The knife he turns inside himself.

Prescilla bends over to pick up Jet’s discarded clothes and Flip’s throat works hard as he swallows at the sight. He has to shut his eyes, hard, or he’ll forget what he came here for in the first place. As she dusts off the jacket and folds it over her arm, Flip cranes his neck, trying to see inside a section of the hothouse that is separated by an additional pane of glass and a narrow door.

“Is that…henbane?” he asks curiously. He had only just read about it for the first time today, and now he was seeing it – not as a drawing in a book, but a real plant. Like learning a new word and then suddenly hearing it everywhere, he wonders if this was a common weed he had overlooked a thousand times or if there was something to all those stories he had been hearing all day about the Hallewells.

“It is,” Prescilla admits as she walks to the door, taking out the old iron key from her deep pocket. The keyhole in the narrow door is slightly rusted and could do with a replacement, but she’s always preferred the keep this section of the hothouse as it is. The smaller section houses dangerous plants that arrive to the Hallewell home from an old farm in Rockport Maine, she explains to Flip as they negotiate two bodies inside the space meant for one. You never knew when adventurous teenagers might confuse wolfsbane for marijuana. Alongside it grew other things to be handled with care, curative in small doses and disastrous when handled carelessly. “Where did you hear about henbane?”

“I read about it in that book you saw earlier,” Flip confesses sheepishly. He understands from the way she opens the door silently and moves with reverence, that he has been admitted to an inner sanctum of the house and he acts accordingly. There is barely enough room for two people to be standing inside as Prescilla is usually the only one to enter the sequestered area.

“What did your book say?” she doesn’t need to sound derisive, Flip is aware that its contents are nonsense.

“A lot,” he huffs a small laugh and she turns to face him, standing chest to chest in the cramped space. “I read that entry again, though, because it reminded me of Jimmy and that kid… The book said henbane caused giddiness, delirium, and then collapse. Delusions, like being able to fly, and sometimes convulsions.”

“If ingested, I suppose, in high enough quantities,” Prescilla concedes pensively. “But it’s not meant for that. Henbane leaves soothe inflammations and gouty joints. They’ve been used in folk medicine for centuries. A decoction of henbane seeds kills lice. You can make a black hair dye out of it as well.”

“But you can brew it and give it to someone to drink too?” Flip asks with a raised brow. Unlike Maddy, he doesn’t let Prescilla skirt around his questions.

“Sure,” she shrugs and picks up a pot to hold it between them. The henbane flower is in bloom, with its white petals spotted and veined purple, nestled in fleshy green leaves. She takes a whiff and offers it to Flip. He does the same and his face twists into a nasty grimace. “It doesn’t smell any better when cooked down,” she remarks. On the rare occasions she needs to handle it, the kitchen smells like rotting flesh all day, sometimes even longer. Good luck getting someone to drink it willingly, or slipping it to them secretly.

“What about that?” he angles his head down, closer to her and points with his chin behind her. Without turning, she knew he was pointing at the belladonna.

She doesn’t take her eyes off him as she speaks and she doesn’t flinch as the Courage Tea still warms her belly from the inside and cracks her tongue like a whip. “The genus you see behind you is the Atropa Belladonna, named for the Greek goddess Atropos. The oldest of the three Fates, known as the one who cuts the thread of life.”

Flip observes her shrewdly and doesn’t speak. Only a tiny twitch of a muscle under his eye betrays the whirring cogs working hard and fast in his brain.

“It symbolizes silence to old Victorian floriographers. Romans used it in poisons, to keep secrets and silence enemies.”

“All it does is kill?” he challenges, already knowing the answer. He rarely bothered posing a question to a suspect otherwise.

“No, naturally. It powerfully relieves pain and convulsions, it’s an excellent sedative… But they don’t call it Devil’s cherry for nothing. I wouldn’t take more than one,” she confides, her eyes swallowing him up in an unblinking chasm of obsidian.

Flip gives a smoldering smile and can’t stop his eyes from raking up and down her body anymore than he can stop himself breathing. It seems the privilege of taking his breath away resides now only with Prescilla.

Before he ever moves his eyes to the hemlock, she knows where they’re going. She only wonders if in his sweep of Jimmy’s car, he’s managed to find traces of the two poisonous plants that snuffed out his life, or if he truly is so strongly driven by his medial nature that it points him to all the right places. He intuits far too many things with a horrible precision and she gives up entirely on trying to conceal anything anymore.

“Hemlock,” Prescilla preempts him and he narrows his eyes, reminded briefly of the fact he is standing almost nose to nose with a woman who can surely kill him a dozen different ways before he ever gets a single accusation out. “It’s used for breathing problems, like bronchitis, whooping cough, asthma, or for swollen and painful joints, cramps, teething in children…”

For once, Flip flinches at the idea of administering this deadly plant to a child. “And too much of it has been known to kill a philosopher or two.”

“True. But too much of anything can kill you. Too much coffee. Too much water, and you’re nearly 60% water. Even more in your brain, and lungs, and heart,” she whispers in their stifling proximity.

A lazy smile spreads across his long face and he shifts, splaying one large hand on the long table that holds a row of deadly plants. He’s on eye level with her now. “You know I’ve been hearing all sorts of outlandish things about your family.”

“Like what?” she sticks out her chest defiantly, but a smile she’s holding back illuminates her face. They are skirting dangerously around the truth, so close now that their bodies thrum from it.

He leans his head to the side and watches through his dark lashes as she flickers like a flame. He drinks her in as though he has all the time in the world. All the patience to draw her out. His eyes are full of affection. He is kind even when he’s not speaking and Prescilla can feel her heart weeping from it.

“That you sell baby placenta and fly off the roof and worship the Devil.”

Her smile falters at the end. “There’s no Devil in the craft.”

“So you’re saying there is a craft? That you’re a witch?” his eyes sparkle and go comically wide at the word he has yet to believe in.

“Mh.  I guess you found me out, huh?” she looks at him intently and he can’t look anywhere else.

“Guess I did.”

“You should stick around for Walpurgis night. You’d really see something then,” she suggests with a wicked little grin.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. We dance naked under the moon as bonfires burn, and kiss men under blossoming trees after midnight.”

“I’d have to wait until midnight?” Flip asks in a low, deep voice and feels how little air is left in the tiny garden.

“No,” Prescilla says simply and he feels a shudder run up his spine.

He smiles the smallest smile, just a tick at the corner of his full lips and she could almost swear it was never even there. But it lights up his face and it’s enchanting. Prescilla can only smile back, even as she tries to remind herself what danger she’s in.

“Why are people so afraid of this place?” he asks earnestly. His perception is admittedly skewed by the fact he’s been dying to return to Prescilla all day, but he can’t detect anything especially ominous about the place itself.

“My family have been known to meddle with love, and hate. People’s memories are long when it comes to that.”

They talk in confidential tones, like they’re sharing one pillow, and Flip is not sure he won’t lean in any second now and cut her off with a kiss.

“And what do you do?” he shifts and is so close now that her long skirt brushes his jeans. If they take a deep breath at the same time, there won’t be enough room for their chests.

“Do I do?” she repeats absently and leans in, devouring him with her eyes. He’s pleased that she’s as dizzied by him as he is by her.

“Mhm,” he breathes, and he’s not even listening. They’re teetering on the ledge, waiting to see which one slips and falls into the other’s arms first.

Prescilla can’t find it in herself to be cautious. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of telling him everything freely, floating through the air and dancing with him like a dandelion scattering gently on the wind.

“I tend my garden and keep my family safe,” the thought sobers her and suddenly she’s no longer swaying with him. A darkness crosses over her face and he pulls a few inches back.

“Do you have any idea how I feel?” he asks and it sounds like an accusation. “What am I supposed to think when you say something like that?”

“I can’t tell you either of those for sure, but I can take a guess.”

He swallows in anticipation.

“You already know everything you’re going to find out. And it’s not the first time you’ve known. People have explained this ability in various ways, and tried to study it since ancient times. My family call it the medial soul. The strong-sighted and deep-hearted self who lives simultaneously in the world of light, the corporeal daytime domain, and in the world of dark, that hidden realm of potential, with the worms roiling in the deep mucky soil. People try to straddle the two with different disciplines - esotericism, theosophy, shamanism… Kabbalah,” she names the last as if it’s supposed to be the most familiar to him.

“Why did you say it like that?” he frowns.

She points at his chest and her abyss-dark eyes follow her finger. The Star of David that rests on his chest grows suddenly hotter until it feels like a scorching cattle brand. It’s a thin, subtle pendant concealed under several layers of clothing, but she looks right at it.

When he stretches back up to his towering height, Prescilla flips her hair over her shoulder and follows his gaze. “You know the Star of David supposedly combines the symbols of the blade and chalice. The male and female principle, fused as one. Yahweh and Shekinah, in the Holy of Holies. Everything about you is like that, you see through the veil, and you know. And you don your talisman, even if you don’t share it with the world.”

Why would you bring that up, he asks in his head. He is all of a sudden ashamed, as he remembers the ugly things about himself he wishes he could forget. The faces of Jewish kids who got bullied at school – he remembers every feature. And that he didn’t do anything to stop it. Worse than that, he was quietly relieved. He could hold his own in a fight as well as the next boy, but he didn’t want anyone to glean this fact about him. Didn’t want to be called the same ugly names, and didn’t want to agree, in some shameful place, that he deserved to be treated badly because his heritage somehow marked him. The way she looks at him, he has a cold, unnerving feeling she knows this too perfectly well.

“I don’t know,” she surrenders with a sigh, “why would I?”

His hands are clammy, shaking slightly as he fishes deep in his pocket for what remains of his pack of cigarettes. Flip runs a hand through his hair, smoothing the inky waves away from his face as he bites a cigarette out of the pack, buzzing in anticipation of that first, slow, luxurious inhale. The flame of his lighter burns a bright cherry into the end of his cigarette and he shoves the lighter into his coat pocket, standing straighter to fill his lungs to capacity with the thick white smoke.

It’s his end-of-day cigarette and, as he grunts out the smoke, all the bullshit that has accumulated since he got out of bed comes out with it. Prescilla watches as his whole body relaxes with this release of tension. If she looks closely enough, she can see all the evil, the imps and demons roiling in a cloudy puff of smoke as he casts them out.

“You can’t smoke in here. It’s bad for the plants,” she warns only after she’s allowed him the deep pleasure of the first drag.

“I did yesterday,” he challenges and holds her eyes as he brings the cigarette back to his full lips. She watches them curve into a plush O around the yellow filter, puckering and finally releasing as the end stops glowing bright.

“I hated it yesterday as well,” her jaw clenches and she stares more demandingly this time.

The sound of that word makes his heart sink, but it’s thrilling to see her like that. Her eyes flashing, her expression uncompromising. It’s a pleasure to give in.

He makes a show of taking the cigarette out of his mouth, pinching it between two thick fingers and demonstratively dropping it on the floor, crushing it under his toes until it’s a gritty brown stain.

*

The conversation resumes in the kitchen. Flip shows the two sisters the awful photos of Jimmy’s crimes. He makes sure to include the slashed neck of the woman who had just borne him a child, angry and swollen and held together by ugly black stitches. A reminder to Maddy in case he’s wrong and Jimmy is alive against all the odds. If anything will keep her from going back to him, it’s this.

He warns them in advance that what he has to show them is gory, so Jet is relegated to the adjoining room to play. His eyes flit over to the little girl as Maddy gasps and covers her mouth, looking up at Prescilla with tearful eyes, as though she is only now exposed for loving a terrible man and she needs to be reassured Prescilla still loves her. The red-headed sister stymies whatever reaction she might have had in favor of remaining the dark-haired one’s anchor. Jet doesn’t look up from the half-circle of her toys, all gathered for her to hold court.

Prescilla’s eyes fly to Maddy’s elegant swan neck and she can’t stop the image of a red slash opening it. She begs forgiveness in her head for every time she was short-tempered, angry, jealous of the attention her beauty inevitably attracted. As she sat to write her letter to Maddy, she wondered if she really wanted to invite her back into her life. Now she’s thankful beyond words. She never could have forgiven herself if she had not beckoned her desperately back and one day been the one looking at her sister in photos such as these.

"I was really so in love with this one,” Maddy’s large eyes are rimmed in smeared mascara. She visibly shakes as Flip lodges one of his cigarettes between her fingers and lights it. He places an ashtray he spied yesterday in front of her before Prescilla can think to.  “I loved him… exactly as much as I shouldn’t have,” she looks from Prescilla to Flip and both give her solemn nods. “It's so sad, really. It's pathetic. I felt like I had to be crazy or something to act like that. Like I was one of those women," she finally admits to Prescilla and hides her eyes with her free hand as she dissolves into mute tears.

Prescilla places a hand on Maddy’s shoulder and she can see them, a ghostly procession in their kitchen, at twilight. Those women would get down on their knees and beg. Swear up and down like children they'd never want anything again in their lives, if they could just have what they wanted now. They were willing to give everything, and take whatever they had to, for the men they wanted. Prissy and Maddy promised they’d never let anyone turn them inside out like that. They called the women stupid and detestable, sure they would never find themselves on their knees, as if desire were a matter of personal choice.

Flip and Prescilla exchange looks. She’s not mad at what he did, he’s relieved to find. “I’ll give you a minute,” he announces and pushes his chair back.

Prescilla stands too and Maddy looks up at her with a panicked expression. Her thumbs wipe back and forth under Maddy’s eyes as she cups her cheeks, and she lets go.

“Come with me,” she asks Flip and heads for the stairs.

*

Prescilla had taken the attic before Maddy and Jet were invited to stay at the Hallewell house. It had always been the most coveted room in the house, especially among the young Hallewell girls. They would light candles and examine odd paraphernalia strewn around forgotten drawers and locked chests, tell each other spooky stories, or look out at the starry night as they felt the first stirrings of magic crackle under their skin.

It was Prescilla’s message to her sister. She would open the door to Maddy, and of course to her beloved, innocent niece, but claiming the attic for herself was her small assertion that this was her house now. The homestead she had kept safe and standing at great personal cost while everyone else was raising hell and having fun, would not be taken from her and handled carelessly.

Maddy feels more comfortable having Jet in her bed, in her arms, so it works out just fine. Perhaps a renegotiation will take place when her paranoia subsides and Jet grows more into her stubborn Hallewell and Hawkins genes.

But for now, Prescilla takes Phillip Zimmerman into the space that is unquestioningly her own.

He closes the door behind her and leans on it, waiting for her. She hugs her arms around herself and comes slowly together from all different directions. As she turns to look at him again, to try to spot something she had missed before, that could shake the convictions she’s already formed about him, she finds nothing. Hands in his pockets, he rests against the dark wood of the door and takes her in until she feels like she’s disappearing into him.

He inhabits himself fully, as so few people do. Like a glove snug around a hand. She can feel it when he talks, in the way he poses his questions. There are no cracks or fissures in him, no place behind his own back that could admit a lie and not spot it at once, like a jagged pebble in his shoe.

“Tell me more. About what you were saying before.” He can see her thinking the thoughts, so he figures he might as well enjoy the rasp of her voice as she tells him.

“The reason you can’t be lied to,” she starts and he inclines his head, out of some old habit, indicating his innate suspicion. It’s a good strategy for a liar, to flatter him like that, and play into his own vanity of being a good reader of people. To behave like a brazen, even indignant, truth teller. But she is right and he can tell a lie from a truth as plain as the nose on his face, which he’s been informed is as plain as it is prominent. “…is your medial nature. You rely on things even you yourself want to scoff at. Because you’re too intellectual, too rational to listen to something as mindless as your gut. But you’re full of this wet, primal, animal instinct. You soak up the dark, moist earth through the soles of your feet, and you feel it crawling with susurrations, murmurs, screeches, and they speak to you. The liminal space is more comfortable than you admit. Two spirits inhabit every body and in you, both are awake at the same time. All of you fills you up, from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. There is no room to let in lies. People try and you know it as soon as it starts. You knew it yesterday with Maddy, and you know it now, that I am telling you the truth.”

“Are you this way too?” Flip doesn’t accept the words straight away. He is far too eager to jump at them, to take comfort from feeling like he’s a peg that’s finally slipped into the right slot, and that’s dangerous.

“I’m something else,” Prescilla closes her eyes, as though she’s exhausted from the admission she’s only started to make. He barely knows himself yet; to get to know her will take a lifetime. “But I have known, from my earliest days, that when a soul is empty, cracked like a dirt road in the summer, it gapes for everything and anything. It will take in lies, and empty promises, and bad faith, anything to find a center outside of itself. A soul that is whole doesn’t do that. It lives as strong, and as wide, and as deep as we promised to do before we ever dwelled on earth.”

“Is that the only reason you can’t lie to me?”

“No,” she sighs.

“Do you want to?”

“About some things.”

He’s quiet then, for a painfully long time. At last, his face changes and he looks, of all things, pleased. He nods and leaves his sentinel position by the door, crossing the low-ceiling room to her with his head slightly bowed.

“Do you need help, Prescilla? Can I help you somehow?” he asks as earnestly as he is able to. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

She bites her lips between her teeth and throws her head back at the ceiling, exhaling a strangled laugh.

“I just really wish you didn’t have to ask me anything. It would be so much easier if we didn’t have to talk.”

“Okay. We don’t have to talk,” his voice is small, but it vibrates through her. He watches her, lids heavy, with a dusky look. No sounds come from anywhere and it feels like the earth is standing still. Her dark eyes catch the low light, like a feline, and they sparkle. She doesn’t look away from him. Flip raises one hand tentatively and touches a fiery wave of her long hair. The tips of his fingers follow its curl from the top of her head, down to her cheekbone, and he tucks it gently behind her ear. Her skin is burning hot when he touches it and he traces the shell of her ear, gliding his fingers over to her cheek. It’s just as hot there and his fingertips hover over her red, red lips. He looks at his watch. “It’s getting late.”

Her lips part in surprise as she sucks in a hissing breath. She is disappointed to see him leave and he can tell. “I have a lot to do still, and I need to check out in the morning…” he rattles off excuses as if he’s trying to flee her bed after seducing her into it. Only all his clothes are on and no one’s stopping him from leaving.

She nods and steps aside to let him pass, but he catches her wrist before she can step out of reach. His touch makes her stiffen and give him a wild look. She doesn’t like to be toyed with and he is too close to crossing the line from teasing to infuriating her.

“You should kiss me goodnight.”

Her expression softens and he tugs at her delicate wrist, satisfied when she takes a small step into him.

“Kiss me goodnight, Prescilla,” he demands and doesn’t breathe as he comes closer.

She smiles and he can see the curve of it in the dark, her luscious mouth full of pearly teeth. She stretches like a cat, slow and warm, creeping up his body. Her lips make his head spin.

She’s smoldering like a red piece of coal, searing him where she touches, and he digs his hands into her hips. The sting of pain makes her gasp out and part her lips for him. Then he’s breathing in her fire and everything goes red.

*

@in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather @safarigirlsp @lumberjack00fantasies @queeniebee @vedavan @house-of-cadwyn

[akkivee]

hyped up was a lot of fun which means i have a lot i wanna gush about lol:

to the absolute surprise of no one, jiro is the best dancer out of his bros lol

ichiro’s the one you’d watch when you’re learning a dance since he sticks to the basics and saburo is the awkward one lol like he has rhythm he just doesn’t know what to do with it lol

saburo was really cute in this live tho lol??? he just looked really happy and excited to be performing up there and i’m not used to a happy saburo for long periods of time lol 🥺

but seriously jiro yessir 😩👍

the utter delight i experienced watching ichiro beatbox was comparable to the first time i saw kimura beatbox so thanks hyped up for giving that back to me lol

sasara leg

it’s very entertaining to watch samatoki do his bad boy squat with essentially a six foot pole in his hand lol

it’s just the nature of juto’s mic lol but he really did strut around the stage like those rich wine moms that carry their purse in the crook of their arm lol

RIO BIG HE STRONB BIG BOY MAN HUGE 🥺🥺🥺

the above is me anytime rio was in frame lol

rio: *salutes as mtc finishes their turn* me: 😭😩😩😩😭💞💞💖🫶💙💙😭💖😫😫😫😫💕💕💙💙💖💙

leggy sasara

DICE WAS SO PUMPED I LOVE IT LOL

and ramuda was so kawaii wtf????? the way he walked and moved to everyone’s songs omg 🥺

and lol during the leaders talk ramuda pissed off kuukou and fluttered away from him, only to piss off samatoki and wind up back where he started lol

it was really nice to see clear inspiration from their seiyuus’s lives in everyone’s performances while maintaining a character spin on it but it was a little odd to see fp very animated during stella lol

also gentaro being the most animated during stella is hilarious lol

twig legged sasara

HES BEAUTY HES GRACE ANYTIME SENSEI WAS ON SCREEN I FELT THE URGE TO PUNCH MYSELF IN THE FACE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH—

*sobbing* how can i go on in life knowing that jakurai’s that pretty how do i still go on in this life while knowing this for four years and being constantly reminded of it—

*sobbing even harder* and he has the gall to be adorably weird still like overthinking sasara’s pun during the leader’s talk and clapping shapes and doing the angler move hayami-san does in hangout and gently bowing at the audience after mtr finished 🅱️LE A SE HE L P—

hifumi’s dancing is so delightfully dated lol!!!! like his moves are just an era older than he is so it stands out while suiting his host persona!!! and hifumin’s energy was so cute lol

sometimes hifumi was standing in the third position in ballet so here’s a new hc—

lol doppo

was absolutely dying when jyushi did one of his flourishes and doppo, tucked away behind sensei and jyushi, had to actively dodge jyushi’s arm LOL

ahhhh watching shinjuku style again made me miss watching shinjuku style live 😭😭😭

sasara all leg all day

nuru-dem legs

the string leg theory as presented by nurusara—

lol no but i liked how sasara was timing the beat with his legs

sasara can never miss an opportunity to mess with samatoki lol respect

the way he bounced around to everyone’s verse was a lot of fun too lol!!!!!

if you had any questions as to rosho’s past as a comedian, lay them to rest after watching hyped up lol

DRUNK ROSHO WAS ADORABLE LMAO

also rip @ rosho for getting caught up in gentaro’s lies lol like it was a good distraction but at what cost lol

rosho: yumeno-san

rei mr ‘boogie oogie oogie ‘til you just can’t boogie no more’ lol

BOOGIE!!!!!

his mic was somewhat unsettling lol like that eye of sauron actually follows you around on that pimp stick

kuukou sure had his feralness dialled up this live lol

LIKE THE WAY HE FLAT OUT GROWLED AT JYUSHI LMAOOO I WAS SO STARTLED KUUKOU PLS

heh heh heh kuukou growl 😳

you can tell by the way kuukou moves he’s got a good core and balance and he’s very in control of how he moves like no moves wasted

AND THE WAY HE LET HIMSELF GO LOOSE IN HOODSTAR➕ GET IT KUUKOU LOL

jyushi introduced himself as bat kicked off and then again unnecessarily during the 2gumi talk lol he’s so funny

we all agree that strike-a-pose-mid-song-jyushi’s a jojo character in disguise right lol

the way he was kinda like ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ while the rest of his team were clapping to the beat during rip lmao

hitoya on stage in front of thousands of viewers: vroom vroom mfers

me: AND HOW CAN YOU NOT JUST LOVE HIM LMAO

it’s always fun watching hitoya get his groove on lol

after kaigen was the 3gumi talk so bat was exiting stage right and hitoya paused and spun on his heel right back around lol what a cool cat lol

hitoya: there a two things that i— *the audience is already clapping lmao*

the audience was half the fun too shoutout to that one obvious bat stan that was waving their wand to the exact manji pattern bat does in rip lol

[krabmeat]

vent under cut, dont feel obligated to read or respond!! :]]

i feel guilty for not trusting my friends more. im not too sure how to word this or if im even saying this right, but to at least put the situation into perspective i took a break from almost all of the servers im in on discord and i told absolutely no one except for maybe one person i believe. i took a break because i felt like i was being overlooked and side-eyed by my friends. ive gone on a break before and every time i came back from my break its always

"OMG YOURE BACK WE MISSED YOU!!"

"WELCOME BACK!!!"

its frustrating that i have to take breaks from my friends to not be overlooked by them as of recent. and while i do understand that other people have their own lives and arent obligated to talk to me, how the FUCK are they gonna treat others better than me and interact with them more while actively ducking under my existence yet still have the damn gall to call me their friend?

its too many times i could count of having to start conversations with my friends because they never do. and this is for the majority. but ohhh, once im not on discord for a fucking WEEK is when you decide to "check up on me and see if im okay" WHEN OF COURSE IM NOT FUCKING OKAY!!! WHEN THE EXACT PEOPLE YOUVE BEEN TURNING TO AS A FORM OF ESCAPISM BECAUSE YOUR ACTUAL LIFE CONSTANTLY FEELS LIKE A HELL YOU WANT TO DISSAPEAR FROM, WHEN THOSE PEOPLE YOU TURN TO DONT EVEN MAKE THE EFFORTS AND PROMISES THAT THEYVE MADE TO YOU YET ACTIVELY ENGAGE WITH OTHERS THE WAY THEY PROMISED TO TREAT YOU RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU? WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT IS THAT MAN?

but when i return, theyll tell me they missed me, right? theyll fill me in on how well everything has been and ignore how much theyre rubbing it in that they dont need me, right? theyll be on that high of giving me attention when in reality itll be gone in a week or two. because apparently thats all the attention i need.

maybe im being too attention seeking or something. maybe theyre ducking under me for a reason? i wanna know what i did wrong, man. just please...keep your promises if youre gonna make them

[shouta-aizawow]

This fic was so good but I had to stop reading (for now, hopefully) cause it made me so angry

Like, all’s fine and dandy. Kiribaku, Supernatural AU, Katsuki has no friends, is being sabotaged in his job, accidentally saves Mina, and becomes friends with her and Kiri, SPOILERS FROM NOW ON

Great, right?

WRONG!

Because after he resigned from his job after turning into a demon

He applies to another researching company that’s run by Todoroki, another supernatural being that hires many of them

And at the meeting with Todoroki, Katsuki sees Deku!!

And that would be fine EXCEPT

UGHHHHH

Okay, so towards the beginning of the story, it’s revealed that Katsuki used to have a friend, Deku, but then he had a mental breakdown and left, Katsuki thought he died

BUT OMG NO UGHHH

Deku, the absolute asshole, didn’t die, he got turned into a supernatural being BECAUSE

And here’s the part that infuriated me

HE MET TODOROKI AT A CONFERENCE HE WENT TO IN KATSUKI’S STEAD AND WANTED TO BE WITH HIM BUT COULDNT BECAUSE TODOROKI WASNT HUMAN AND DEKU COULDNT TELL KATSUKI ABOUT THE SUPERNATURAL WORLD AND THE COWARD DIDNT WANNA LIVE A DOUBLE LIFE

SO HE BASICALLY FAKES HIS FRICKIN DEATH TO ABANDON HIS CLOSEST FRIEND, BROTHER IN ALL BUT BLOOD, SO THAT HE COULD RUN AWAY WITH SOME STUPID MAN

UGHHHHH

And then, AND THEN

Katsuki pissed

Like, pissed pissed obviously

And Deku’s like “I thought you’d be fine!”

AND THEN KATSUKI LISTS EVERYTHING THATS HAPPENED TO HIM, INCLUDING HAVING HIS LAB BLOWN UP BY SOMEONE, LOSING HIS JOB, GETTING STABBED, AND BEING TURNED INTO A DEMON AGAINST HIS WILL

And he screams “Do you think I fine?!”

And Deku’s like “you have auntie and uncle”

BUT NO

BECAUSE APPARENTLY AFTER DEKU LEFT, MITSUKI AND MASARU GOT KILLED THREE MONTHS LATER AND INKO LEFT KATSUKI TO MOVE AWAY

Oh my godddd I got so pissed at Deku

But I would keep reading. I would

Except...

Katsuki lunges at Deku (Kiri wasn’t fast enough to hold him back) and they start brawling. Punching, throwing out windows, the works

So, valid of Katsuki

BUT

THEN THATS IT?????

NO ONE IS PISSED AT DEKU????

They’re just like:

Katsuki; You aren’t mad I threw your mate out the window and punched him?

Todoroki: It was funny, and he punched you too

Katsuki: Sorry about breaking stuff in your club

Kiri: It’s fine. Sometimes violence is the answer with supernatural beings

AND THATS IT

Deku has the gall to say “Bye Kacchan” when they leave (and when it was heavily implied that Todoroki only paid Katsuki any mind bc Deku had smth to do with it, something that Katsuki explicitly thought before that he would not be okay with)

AND THEN THATS IT

DEKU FACES NO CONSEQUENCES

I’m not lying when I say I cried out of anger (yes I was that upset by it. No I’m not embarrassed)

I’ve never gotten that angry at a Katsuki positive/centric fic.

Just ughhh I had to rant bc that was seriously such slimey behavior from Deku and Katsuki was just fine that he was abandoned by his friend for some crush after one (1) fight

Ughhh the fic was so good and interesting but that seriously just ARGH I might pick it up later so that I can still enjoy it but forget the history between Katsuki and Deku

[idunnowatimdoin]

There Are Only Three Steps I Care About and Love Isn't One of Them || Chapter 1 (Snippet)

So I started writing a medical school AU of our two favorite bois. Here’s a small preview of what I’ve got so far. Lmk what y’all think!!

“You’re joking.” The acerbic tone of his voice would make weaker men cower in fear – has done so on many occasions in fact! 

It doesn’t even phase Qui-Gon’s serene smile. “Of course not, my young padawan. Why would I joke about something as important as this?”

“I told you to stop calling me that. We’re not in a fucking movie, Qui. And this is serious!” Obi-Wan growls, slamming his hands down on the table where Qui-Gon sits calmly and flipping the folder he’s holding open and around so the other can see. “When I told you I wanted a non-traditional student as a Little, what in the ever loving fuck possessed you to think that this is what I meant?”

Qui-Gon glances down at the folder as though he doesn’t know exactly what’s inside it – as though he isn’t the (former) president of the Big-Little Club mentorship program and in charge of setting up all the first year medical students with their second year mentors. The bright beaming smile of one Anakin Skywalker shines up at him. The older man takes a few long moments of silence to skim over the file before looking up at the other, fuming, man with an arched brow. “I don’t see what the issue is.”

“The issue,” Obi-Wan snarls, “is that I was looking to get someone more like us non-traditional: older, coming into medicine as a second profession, struggling to get back into the swing of studying after years away from academia. Instead you gave me a twenty-two year old, fresh from college, pretty boy. He skipped grades because he was that smart, Qui. He didn’t even take a gap year! He’s as traditional as you get!”

If anything, Qui-Gon’s brow arches ever higher. Obi-Wan gives serious thought to shaving it off while the man sleeps. “Perhaps if you looked closer, you’d have seen why I picked this one for you. I assure you, my young apprentice, he is far from traditional.”

Groaning, Obi-Wan makes sure to drag his chair back with a loud screech against the tile of the floor just for the satisfaction of watching Qui-Gon’s involuntary wince. Good. He slips into the chair opposite from him and spins the folder back so he can look at it, eyes scanning over the document with new intent. If Qui-Gon says there’s something there, there has to be. The guy may be a right git, but he’s not an outright liar. Most of the time. 

Anakin Skywalker. Age: 22. Hometown: Tatooine, Arizona. Undergraduate Degree: Mechanical Engineering, B.S. from Cal Poly Pomona. Hobbies: Taking things apart and putting them back together again, fixing things, building things, cars, racing ♡♡♡, baking Interesting Fact About You: I built my first robot at the age of nine. He was really dumb, but Mom loved him. His name was C3PO and he shorted out any time you tried to get him to do anything, but Mom kept him around anyways. Why Did You Go Into Medicine: While I was away at college, our house got broken into. Some thugs beat up my mom and stole everything we owned. I barely made it to the hospital before she died. I remember standing against the wall while she coded, feeling absolutely helpless as the crash team tried to resuscitate her. I never want to feel that helpless again. What Do You Want Out of This Program?: To learn how the fuck to study medicine. I have an engineer brain so I feel like all this stuff is a foreign language to me? Like I’m running Python but everyone else is over here using C++. Poor analogy because that’s more c-sci than engineering, but whatever. Basically I need help. Please. The academic advisors didn’t do shit and the teachers and office hours aren’t useful at all. So… You’re my only hope. 

And on second reading it seems less infuriating and more… endearing? Maybe. It might just be because he’s gotten the chance to rage at Qui-Gon out of his system so he can look at the application with clarity and see just how non-traditional this Anakin Skywalker really is. 

For one thing, he’s young. Younger than most applicants. He had to have skipped at least two grades to be here at twenty-two. And he’s an engineering major. That’s about as non-traditional as Obi-Wan’s philosophy major, as Qui-Gon’s MBA. The rest of it builds on his overall image of “non-traditional student,” but it’s the last question that really gets Obi-Wan, that seals his fate. Qui-Gon fucking knew it would, too, the asshole. It’s probably why he picked Anakin to be Obi-Wan’s Little, because he knows Obi-Wan’s weaknesses too well after a year acting as his Big. That bit about learning how to study? And it feeling like everyone else was speaking a foreign language? Feeling completely lost and helpless because all the other resources that were supposed to help you just weren’t panning out and this mentorship program was your last hope? Obi-Wan had been there last year. So he knows what Anakin’s feeling, what he’s going through. And it’s why Qui-Gon knows he’s going to accept, going to take Anakin on. 

He sighs, pinching his nose in frustration before looking back down at the smiling face of one Anakin Skywalker. “Did you really have to pick someone so attractive?” he finally sighs, looking up at Qui-Gon in resignation. 

Qui-Gon – the bastard – just chuckles. “If you’re going to spend the next year mentoring him, he might as well be someone you enjoy looking at. It’s part of why I picked you.” Then he has the gall to wink. 

The poor crowd of first years eating their lunch in the common area really have no idea how to react when Obi-Wan upends the table and launches himself at the third year student, Qui-Gon laughing the whole time. 

-

In the end, it takes Obi-Wan two days to actually reach out to Anakin. Not because he’s scared or anything because he’s not. It’s because Dr. Che’s GI anatomy review lecture had reminded Obi-Wan just how much he didn’t remember from first year anatomy-physiology lab and he’d deep dived back into his old anatomy notes and panic-blacked out midway through flipping through his Thieme “Atlas of Anatomy” textbook, only surfacing back up when Bant literally tugged him by the ear away from the dorm study space back to his room. So two days later, his under eyes are a bit darker than normal (but that’s pretty much a given in med school and no one even spares him a second glance) when he shoots Anakin a text.

[Message: To: Anakin Skywalker] Hello, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. We were paired as part of the Big-Little program. I am reaching out to ask when you would be available to meet so that we could discuss further what you would like to get from this program and how best I could assist you to succeed in medical school. Please let me know at your earliest convenience.

Message sent, Obi-Wan tucks his phone away and makes his way to his locker so that he can grab his other notebook for Professor Koon’s physiology lecture. The man tends to like more… hands on demonstrations and Obi-Wan has taken to storing all his belongings except the essentials in his locker for the duration of Professor Koon’s lectures just in case. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, cutting off a second later to start buzzing anew. This continues again and again before he finally pulls it out and flicks it to life. 

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] Omg!!

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] I didn’t think you were ever going to text me

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] Hi!!

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] Wow your text sounds so formal like an email

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] Are you free for lunch today??

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] Sorry for the rush but like

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] We have a quiz Friday and

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] I have no idea how to study for it

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] So if you could help me that would be 

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] AMAZING

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi

[Message: From: Anakin Skywalker] You’re my only hope!!

Obi-Wan stares for a moment at the veritable wall of texts that completely blocks out his original message. He feels a migraine coming on. This is looking like it’s going to be a very, very painful year indeed.

[kyrrahbird]

Ky’s 琅琊榜 Nirvana in Fire/Lang Ya Bang liveblog experience

EPISODE 3

OKAY EP 3 THE ONE YOU REALLY NEED TO STICK IT OUT TO

if u havent watched this show *please do*!! And maybe dont read this liveblog lmaoo

i forget entirely how much goes into each ep. but anyways to get this show on the road: this one starts with the child being beaten :( ...

Education in your serf class is bad obviously

I admire the gall of the eunuch to say “Prince Jing cant help you now” when Prince Jing is Right There

poetic justice

this is ALSO

dun dun

the first meeting of the DREAM TEAM 

!!

(Jingyan, Mei Changsu and Nihuang)

OOOH BOY THE UNDERCURRENTS

MCS goes straight to comforting the slave boy and i just feel,,, its sincere but there are,,, SO MANY layers of machinations going on here

like its manipulation of Every Person in this scene and i both hate and admire that cold blooded calculation

ESPECIALLY WHEN HE’S MEETING JINGYAN FOR THE FIRST TIME IN TWELVE YEARS ;A;

Just an update: this man is still Dead Inside™. And so distrustful i die too

Quick aside to the terrible princes:

I would also like to note, and its been said before but

Prince Yu is NOT SUBTLE in his aspirations. if i had to say who was the crown prince i might be confused??

and back-

Nihuang and MCS just pulled a mean pincer maneuver on Jingyan and hes being equally pointy back. Stop being mean to my prince :(((

i do wonder if nihuang is clued in, bc if she is, she puts a hell of a lot of trust in mcs. or maybe its all just subconscious, and they’re falling back into their old dynamic 

this scene KILLS ME

bc Prince Jing is trying so hard to protect tingsheng but he really has such limited power and he knows it

(i should read the book)

The first time i watched i did not realise HOW YOUNG mu qing is supposed to be. i love a protective younger bro ;;n;;

I also appreciate the flashbacks to relevant information. just so we know whats important to mcs

MENG DA-GE

-just saved that dude’s ass

Fei Liu was ready to wreck him

This didnt need to be so ominous but i appreciate their dedication to the Melodrama™

EVEN THE TALKING WHILE NOT LOOKING AT EACH OTHER

Nothing sus going on here. look they’re even facing different directions

MENG DA-GE LITERALLY SAID MOVE INTO MY HOUSE

bless

He’s worried!!! His mother hen tendencies are coming out!!

No he doesnt. No thoughts, only protecc

like a puppy

I also love the fact that despite all her fancy headdresses and pretty outfits, we never forget Nihuang is a martial general. Its the way she holds herself and moves i think

“This person is a mystery” > cut to sir su napping in a chair

Theres definitely comedy here. quite a lot of it!!! and i adore it

Never fear, Meng da-ge is here to join the “Force Mei Changsu to look after himself” gang

Side note - I kind of take it for granted as the kind of person Meng da-ge is, but i do think its symptomatic of the empire that one guy can just rock up and basically suborn the entire royal guard. like. your majesty. u done fucked.

70,000 is a staggering number of your own people to kill in one go. Like. I can’t actually wrap my head around it.

And all those people would have had families and friends and sure, they’re mostly just common but. most likely a bunch of the prominent families were killed too. im just wondering if there were like. riots? Or everyone just kept their head down and were like “guess it must be treachery”  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Consort Yue is so goddamn transparent in her manipulation but also like - there’s layers there

Because I feel like the emperor sees through the first layer (having an interest in who Nihuang marries) but is completely incapable of seeing beyond that

Or he doesnt want to. I mean the man does encourage competition in his court

Anyways we find out that he’s going to choose Sir Su to judge the written part of the challenge

This is great because it means Su-xiansheng is going to COURT :D

why do i keep changing how i refer to him? its whatever fits the vibe baby

Man’s got too many names anyways

gotta keep them in rotation

Oh we just found out Baili Qi might be top of the Langya list. good to know the system isnt infallible

I love everyones reactions like

what

the fuck

SOMEBODY FIX THIS

LMAO

Yujin is here to drop Jingrui’s badass backstory

And why he has the name and surname of a prince

I do wonder what its like, for jingrui. Like sure, hes son of two families... but heir of neither? He’s the oldest child but hes also known his whole life that he wont inherit the title. 

idk must be weird

hes incredibly good natured given all that shit

Lin Shu gege just humouring them by listening to a story that hes totally never head before /s

if only they had a dna test

Who’s My Daddy™ ancient fantasy china

ghufdghuisrgu Mu Qing u cant just SAY that

Update: Mu Qing has kidnapped sir Su

OMG

HES ENTERING THE ROYAL COURT

I REPEAT LIN SHU/MEI CHANGSU IS ENTERING THE COURT

i need to just-

the fkn music man

i die

Like i said the first time, i didnt know the full scope of the big deal but i KNEW. that this was it

These were the stakes. All the way up to the emperor

theres gon be some PARALLELS

“You no longer need to refer to yourself as a commoner”

oof

(i would like to say now that i love Liyang

like, A Lot

Second only to Nihuang)

LMAO mcs giving the crown prince a subtle head shake

His POWER

This ep ends on Baili Qi beating the absolute fuck out of Jingrui while Su-xiansheng just peels and eats an orange smirks like the absolute shit he is

like a beyblade

I’m going to stop putting links in these bc i know tumblr doesnt like them, but ill keep up the tagging. I might not get to one ep a day, but every couple of days or so seems doable! i just love dumping my train of thoughts into walls of text :D

TTFN

[the-desolated-quill]

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds blog - Episode 2

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

Never before have I witnessed something this god awful. I’m actually gobsmacked. I knew Peter Harness was a terrible writer, but I didn’t think even he could fuck up this badly. I was utterly dumbfounded by the end of the second episode. I couldn’t believe what I just watched. Not only does this fail as an adaptation of War Of The Worlds, it fails as a story in and of itself.

The problems with Episode 2 surface almost immediately within the first few minutes. A flash forward to a post apocalyptic Earth where we see Amy taking care of her son as humanity struggles to survive because of the red weed (which doesn’t look terribly convincing sadly, but that’s the least of this series’ problems). From there the episode continuously switches back and forth to the invasion and the aftermath throughout, which completely ruins the pacing, but it’s actually even worse than that. These flash forwards also giveaway the ending of the story. That the Martians end up losing. Harness tries to act all clever-clever with it by having British propaganda claim that the army defeated them, but the damage has already done. Thanks to this reveal, Harness has successfully managed to completely suck all tension from the story completely. The Martians no longer pose a threat because we, the audience, know they eventually lose, and we know that Amy at least survives, so at no point do we ever worry about her safety. I was absolutely flabbergasted when I saw this. I couldn’t believe any writer could be this stupid as to sabotage their own story by completely defanging their villains. As for the red weed slowly killing the planet, not only do I feel this unnecessarily complicates a perfectly simple narrative, it also opens the door for humanity to overcome their Martian oppressors when the whole point of the original story was that we only survived by the skin of our teeth. Our human ingenuity had nothing to do with it. We’ll have to wait and see what Episode 3 brings, but I’m not optimistic.

Meanwhile the invasion itself is still just as stilted and lacking in focus as it was before. Certain scenes stand out, like the black smoke enveloping London and the Tripods attacking the ferries, but because we know the Martians ultimately lose and that Amy survives, there’s absolutely zero suspense. (And yes, I know War Of The Worlds is a hundred year old story and everyone knows how it ends, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build tension). Also because of Harness wilfully reducing the Martians to incompetent fools, he has to resort to cheap shock tactics in the desperate hopes of scaring the audience, like when we see one of the Tripods kill a baby. Or how about the bit where Amy almost gets raped in the post invasion scenes? After all that performative feminist posturing last week, it’s quite galling to see such a sexist trope be used here for a cheap bit of drama. It’s fucking pathetic.

And once again the focus is in all the wrong areas. Instead of depicting the horrifying events of the Martian invasion, Harness is more preoccupied with Amy and Rupert Graves’ character (I’m sure he has a name, but I can’t be bothered to remember it at this point) squabbling every five minutes. Guys! Humanity is being destroyed by fucking aliens! Can this not wait?!

I’m assuming the whole baby killing thing was an attempt to show us the selfish nature of man or something, but George and the Artilleryman barely make the effort to actually look for the baby and the scene doesn’t go on nearly long enough to get us invested in the search and their eventual failure. The baby is practically thrown away just so Harness can have a moment where social media will go ‘OMG, they killed a baby in War Of The Worlds! How edgy!’ And the annoying thing is the book does actually have morally grey and shocking moments that Harness could have adapted if he wasn’t too busy trying to second-guess the audience and show what a dark and edgy writer he is. There are two important characters in the source material that the narrator encounters who offer different points of view on the events of the novel. There’s the priest who we see slowly lose faith in God and become more and more panicked and erratic, and there’s the Artilleryman, who represents British colonial attitudes, believing that humanity will ultimately triumph when the evidence clearly doesn’t support this. Here the Artilleryman is played by Dudley Dursley himself Harry Melling, who does a decent job with the material he has been given, but unfortunately the character he’s being forced to play is just utterly inadequate.

Continuing with his trend of writing allegories to things that have nothing to do with War Of The Worlds, Peter Harness takes the opportunity to comment on military conscription, even though conscription wasn’t introduced to the UK until 1916. So now the Artilleryman isn’t some impressionable nationalist that has willingly bought into imperial dogma, but rather he’s a scared little bunny rabbit forced to fight a war against an enemy beyond his comprehension. Worse still, George gets conscripted into the military for literally no fucking reason. He doesn’t get given a gun or anything and despite the fact that he knows more about the Martians than the soldiers do, none of them fucking listen to him when he tries to explain the heat pulse thing or why it might not be a good idea to shout at a Tripod. Then, when they think they won the battle, the captain points his gun at George and forces him to wade into the marshes and investigate. Again I must stress that George doesn’t have a gun! It’s just utterly contrived!

Oh but don’t worry. Harness finally addresses what the source material is actually about. British imperialism and colonialism. Unfortunately he does it with the subtlety and nuance of a giant steamroller driven by Marilyn Manson. Now admittedly the book isn’t very subtle about it either as the narrator comes right out with the comparisons between the British and the Martians, but the thing is the book gets away with it because it’s told from the perspective of a journalist writing about his own experiences after the fact. H.G. Wells has the licence to draw direct parallels because the narrative form he has chosen allows him to. A TV series however - a visual medium - cannot get away with this. Harness, not having the faintest idea how to address the themes of the source material organically in the visuals or the plot, resorts to sledgehammer tactics to get the point across. In the flash forwards to post apocalyptic Britain, we see Amy’s son reading a book that details how the British defeated the Martians as part of some propaganda initiative. A speech is made about how powerful and unstoppable the British Empire is, whilst intercut with soldiers having their arses handed to them by the Tripods. We see several characters maintain a stereotypical ‘stiff upper lip’ attitude as though the Martian invasion was a minor inconvenience instead of a shocking tragedy. There’s even a moment where the Minister of War is babbling on about how much more powerful the Empire can become if they can use Martian technology before succumbing to the Martian’s black smoke and we see literal bile foam from his mouth. It’s all so painfully on the nose and doesn’t offer any intelligent points or topics for discussion other than ‘empires are bad.’

And that’s not to mention all the other contrivances and annoyances in this episode. Despite Eleanor Tomlinson giving it her all, I still couldn’t give two shits about her character. Rafe Spall’s performance as George is still utterly atrocious, running around with a gormless expression on his face as though he’s just lost his wallet. Rupert Graves is utterly wasted as George’s brother and has no good material to work with. We also have a little girl join the group in a desperate bid to draw some sort of emotional reaction from the audience (it doesn’t work) and we have a sick older woman who serves no purpose whatsoever as far as I can see. In fact she really pissed me off due to the way in which she gets poisoned. It’s clearly meant to be there to establish the Martians terraforming Earth, but good God it’s stupid. How does she get poisoned? By drinking a random cup of water someone had just happened to leave lying around in the middle of a field.

I... I... Harness.... Harness, does your brain work?! How the flying fuck did you ever manage to get a career as a writer?!?!

BBC, I beg of you, please stop using our TV licence fees to fund hack screenwriters’ poorly thought out and unentertaining fanfiction!

PLEASE!