#who is. also the direct source of Really really bad day

[inadragon]

so

You adding context after someone responded and replied to you is not a victory. It's just obnoxious.

And I looked at that source you said we should REALLY read and it's bad.

Like

Laughably bad.

I don't have the time of day for such an obviously weak essay but lemme highlight some stuff from the first section.

"This exemption allows them to wield transmisogyny against trans people who are transmisogyny affected (TMA)"

That's not how misogyny works. That's not how transmisogyny works. Anyone can be transmisogynystic or use the power of transmisogyny against a trans woman. That's not a TME exclusive power.

"TME trans people represent to the system the affirmation of the very rules that TMA people break and are severely punished for."

You could basically rewrite this as "TME trans people are rewarded for being masculine or becoming men." This is "femininity is always punished and masculinity is always rewarded." It's a radical feminist take and not consistent with reality. I shouldn't have to explain that queer masculinity isn't rewarded. It's queer. It's deviant. It's rejected by society.

"But the binary nature is a direct result of how transmisogyny works in society. It is to a large degree based on the binary of the “assigned sex at birth” (ASAB, either male (AMAB) or female (AFAB)), so naming and describing it cannot avoid binaries, lest we cease to talk about it altogether."

Talk to an intersex person. The intersex community invented AGAB language and it certainly was not so you could use it to enforce false binaries on their existence. Also even among perisex trans people, you'll find many people who do not fit cleanly under a TME/TMA binary. By relying on this oversimplified binary, and further than that, insisting that that binary reflects the reality of every lived experience, you are actively erasing intersex people, nonbinary people, and any other experience that does not fit cleanly into these definitions.

"The bulk of criticism leveled against transmisogyny theory (TMT) is not driven by good faith or actual flaws in the theory, but by a specific interest to discredit it and suppress its discussion, because it directly threatens certain privileges afforded to TME trans people."

That's a cute way of unilaterally discrediting anyone who disagrees with your theory. No theory is perfect. No theory is immune to criticism. Even good ones. If we want better theories, we need to have conversations about their merits and/or lack thereof.

But I don't really expect you to give a useful response to this catt. Since you apparently don't understand the theory you're arguing in favor of well enough to actually argue for it.

Maybe you shouldn't actually try to argue for it then? Just a thought.

What I see every time a terf starts talking about "sex based oppression". Or the term "sex based oppression" is mentioned by a non terf who got convinced into that nonsense.

Terfs want trans people assigned female to be forcibly assimilated and pretend they don't have serious issues separate from those of "normal women". They also want to obscure the amount of privilege they have as cis people. That's what "sex based privilege" is about.

[pigeon-butch]

I certainly have my own concerns about the treatment of moo deng but um. well i think some of you may just be racist

[clockwayswrites]

Fresh Birb! Part 32

masterpost

“Thanks for the excuse to get some fresh air,” Danny said. He sounded grateful enough that Jason felt a little bad for using the ‘stroll around the yard’ as an way to gather some intel.

“Hey, trust me, I get how overwhelming the manor can get,” Jason said, “and there are a lot of us in house right now. It’s easier in small doses for sure.”

“I could see that,” Danny agreed. “But there’s also something nice about the full house. It’s all very… alive feeling.”

The words were more melancholy than they should be. They were more like how Jason, who knew the feeling of death all too well, might say them. It brought troubling thoughts to mind.

“Yeah, that can be nice about it. Sure is quieter if I’m not here or at Roy’s,” Jason agreed after maybe too long a moment.

“Is Roy that much more talkative when it’s just the two of you?”

“Oh, no. Well, yeah, but it’s more about his little girl, Lian. She’s three and a half and an absolute handful most days. She’s also at that age where she’s pretty much narrating her own life in half understandable babble so there’s just a lot of constant noise.”

Danny chuckled. “I bet. Stayed with a friend for a bit when I was between jobs and stuck there for a few months by a non-complete clause. Her one kid was that age at the time and the oldest five. I didn’t know just how much everything there was when having kids that age. It made me actually feel a little sorry for my parents.”

“You the youngest, oldest, or middle?”

“Youngest. I’ve got one older sister, Jasmine,” Danny said. “You could sorta say there’s a half a sibling too. I basically grew up with my best friend and there were some weeks I spent more time at his house than ours.”

“That close to him?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. That and it was easier, sometimes, to not be at home.”

“Oh.”

That implied some unfortunate things that Jason hadn’t quite been expecting. Danny seemed pretty well adjusted. He was even good at handling Damian, but Jason supposed that maybe part of that was because Danny had been through his own issues.

Danny just shrugged. “I have a life long friend out of it. We don’t see each other in person much these days since we’re on other sides of the country, but we still talk plenty.”

Jason gave a soft hum and, a beat later, asked, “What made you end up in Gotham of all places?”

“Wayne Enterprises, actually,” Danny said. “The rep in the industry as place to work is unparalleled really, especially for what I want to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Help people,” Danny said, honestly and with a crooked little smile. “Which I know sounds cheesy, but I really wanted to create things that help people. It’s not like I mind making a better cellphone battery or anything, but it’s nice to know that I get to work on things that help not just with the little, everyday issues but also the big, life changing ones. The fact that those things get to help the city I live in too is a real plus.”

“Gotham has a way of getting to you like that,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” Danny replied softly, gaze in the direction of the Gotham sky line.

And then a scream split the air.

Not a human scream, thankfully, but a repeated screech that had both of them starting and looking around for the source. The screech turned to a warbling clucking as Jerry emerged from behind the landscaping. His tail was high and spread, his wing tips brushed the ground, and he was looking almost shockingly colorful.

“A turkey?”

“Damian’s.”

“Damian has a turkey,” Danny said slowly.

“And a cow,” Jason said. “Cat, dog, a few snakes. He tried to keep a rat but Alfred stopped that pretty quickly.”

Danny rubbed at his temple. “This is why he knew how to take care of wings, isn’t it?”

Jason tried not to smile. “That came up, huh?”

“He’s been sending Bruce information about it,” Danny answered.

Jerry made another loud warble and struck what Jason could only describe as a pose.

“So… does he do this often?”

“His name is Jerry, and nope,” Jason said and pulled out his phone.

Jerry strutted closer to Danny, tail feathers shaking.

“Oh… oh,” Danny said with the tone of someone for who horrible realization was dawning. “Can you, ah, talk him down?”

“I’m afraid I’m morally obligated to film this,” Jason said somberly. He couldn’t hold back his smirk any longer.

Danny shot him a withering look and started to back up towards the Manor. “Really.”

“Really. Good luck.”

“Well, fuck,” Danny said and then took off running.

Jerry followed at top speed with a scream.

Jason sent the video to Bruce. ‘You have competition.’

[mercy-burning]

Father Figure (1/2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer becomes an unlikely source of comfort after his son breaks up with you. (PART 1 of 2) Category: Mature (18+) Content: Adults w/age gap, perv!Spencer strikes again, masturbation, drinking, kissing. Word Count: 6.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Pushing the hot old man agenda once again, I'm not even sorry about it. Smut will be in Part 2, which I'm almost done with--I just have to workshop the end a little bit. And remember, pals: If he wanted to, he would. And if he won't, then his dad will (AKA the quote I saw on TikTok that inspired this fic lmao) Also, I apologize if adding a real song with real lyrics in the middle of this is cringey, but I had A Vision, and I needed it to be realized, okay? Let a girl have some fun!!!

---------------

...THE COFFEE SHOP

Spying on his son was never exactly a pastime of Spencer's, even less so now since the kid is not really a kid anymore. Still, when that kid breaks up with his long-term girlfriend of four years and then goes on a first date a day later, a father is left to wonder...

He feels bad especially for the ex-girlfriend, who had been nothing but an absolute joy; always bringing gifts and snacks to the house, celebrating the Reid boys' birthdays with extra love and care, and bringing a warm and happy energy that demanded love and care right back.

He can't imagine how you must be feeling.

Your face dances in flashes behind his eyelids as he pokes around the corner of the coffee shop, wondering what could possibly be so enticing about this other woman that his son would throw away something so extraordinary.

Even as he spots Cameron, beaming and eagerly listening to the beautiful young woman in front of him, it pains Spencer to imagine the other side of the coin.

He sighs and turns away, wondering what could have changed his son's mind, but understanding that ultimately it's not any of his business. From what he knows about the breakup, Cameron had been kind and forthright through all of it, offering his father the simple explanation of, "I don't dislike her at all, she's a nice girl... I just don't love her anymore. That's all."

That's all...

When you've spent the first half of your young adult life with the same someone, that logic isn't impossible; Inevitably you'll meet new people and feel bright, new feelings, and old feelings can dissipate just as quickly.

On every logical level, there's nothing inherently wrong with this situation, and still, Spencer can't fight off the uneasy tension in his chest as he sits with it.

As he turns the corner and begins to try and place where exactly that feeling might come from, a loud gasp stops him in his tracks.

His eyes take a moment to look you over, looking to anyone else like he might need some time to process that it's you, but really, his brain knows it right away. Admittedly, he's just glad to see you. Though right now you're visibly shocked and perhaps a little embarrassed, you still radiate that undeniable warmth that brings a slow smile to his face. The tension he feels doesn't fade so much as it shifts, from uneasy to something more electric. More problematic.

What the fuck is your problem? his inner-voice barks, so loudly he almost thinks he's said it out loud.

Spencer shifts direction quickly, reminding himself how to act like a normal human being, and more importantly, how to act when faced with his son's ex-girlfriend, who is clearly doing the same thing he's doing.

"What a pleasant surprise," he beams reaching forward to offer a hug, which you take. Perhaps a dumb move considering the funk he just had to snap himself out of, but if he can carefully guide you in the other direction to save you the spiral of spying on your ex-boyfriend's new date, then so-be-it.

You pull away and he does too, his hands lingering but not touching you. Still, he feels you just as vividly.

"Doctor Reid, what are you doing here?" you ask, trying to hold his eye contact but ultimately succumbing to the urge to glance at the window behind him.

He sighs, offering a sympathetic smile. "The same thing as you, I'm afraid..."

The horror on your face makes his stomach churn, but then it's gone in an instant, replaced by an eye-crinkling laugh that takes him by surprise.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about!"

You're trying so hard to convince him, and probably yourself as well, and it unfortunately amuses him. Your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, not bright and genuine like he's always known, but it's still beautiful. His gaze lingers a little too long on it before he meets your eyes again, watching them flash with something petrified as he grins.

"Clearly..."

You cross your arms, jutting your chin out and attempting a new tactic. "Look, I'm not that pathetic, okay? I don't like what you're implying. Besides, why are you spying on Cam, huh? It's not like he broke up with you to be with your best friend..."

The smile slowly disappears from his face as you speak, that sharp sense of unease creeping back into his system and curling up through his lungs like cigarette smoke. "What?"

You don't bother trying to hide it anymore, a sad shrug weighing down your body as your face softens into something melancholic and distant. Your voice is barely there when you speak, the sound of nearby traffic nearly drowning you out. "Guess he didn't tell you that part, huh..."

"No, he didn't."

You sigh and tighten your arms, seemingly holding yourself together as not to fall apart at the seams. "Did you see them? Did they look happy?"

Spencer's stomach churns again, and he shakes his head incredulously. "Hon, maybe you should—"

"Did they?" you ask again more desperately, your voice cracking between words. He can hear the sadness in it, the devastation and the confusion, the need to understand...

An irrational anger starts to brew somewhere in the depths of his being, even though he knows he doesn't have the whole story. But he firmly decides that he can grapple with Cameron and his choice of a girlfriend at a more appropriate time, and probably even have a man-to-man conversation with him about the whole thing... He also firmly decides that the arrival of these indescribable tense feelings should also be dealt with, though preferably in his next therapy session and not right this second.

Because right now, there's a bright young woman on the verge of tears right in front of him, her sparkle dulling with each passing second, and the best thing to do is to get her away from the problem at large—Not to do anything that will only make it worse.

Spencer rushes to you and gently scoops you into another hug, your body nestling into his with an exhaustion that he fears he knows all too well. As you squeeze his shirt and start to cry, he leads you away from the building and down the sidewalk, wondering if you can hear how loudly his heart is breaking for you.

Eventually he leads you away from public eye, a small clearing about three blocks away and beyond some trees. Being late August, they've started to change color, but not by much. By now you've removed yourself from his full embrace, but still cling to his arm as you find the room to calm down, looking up at the trees.

He walks silently beside you, giving you the space to breathe and think. To rest. The sun is high in the sky, bright beams poking through the leaves and limbs, and when you finally stop walking, one of them catches your eye. It glistens with tears that haven't fallen yet, and when you stare up at the sky and close your eyelids, a small droplet finally strolls down your cheek.

Your arms tighten around Spencer's and he fights the urge to wipe the tear from your face with his free hand.

"I'm so sorry," he says instead. "I wish I knew what to do."

You open your eyes then, a small breeze picking up and rustling the trees. He can hear wind chimes in the distance, he thinks, or maybe it's just a figment of his imagination—a manifestation of the dulcet, melodic comfort you've brought to his life over the years. In a strange way, he supposes you do somewhat feel like home to him. Normalcy. Softness. Beauty.

He hadn't even realized it until your sadness had overwhelmed him.

"Thank you," you tell him, pulling away finally to look him dead-on. You smile again, and though it's sad, and still beautiful, this time it finally reaches your eyes. "You're a good man, Doctor Reid."

He certainly doesn't feel like a good man.

Not when you reach up and hug him with your arms draped over his shoulders. Not when his hands feel right at home at the small of your back. Not when he can hardly breathe as your mouth murmurs another, "thank you," into the crook of his neck. Not when you start to pull away, sliding your soft hands down over his shoulder blades and tilting your head. Not when your thankful lips make contact with his cheek, featherlight and heavy all the same. Not when, even after you pull away completely, your presence is still with him, making him warm and fluttery and stupid.

Not when he misses you, hours later, still buzzing from your touch...

And when Cameron comes home that evening, practically walking on clouds and beaming with lovesick stupor after his day out with your best friend, that tension and irrational anger starts to grow stronger, muddled with confusion.

No. Spencer Reid is convinced that he is not a good man.

If he was, he wouldn't be laying awake at night, absentmindedly caressing his face where your lips had been hours before, staring at the photo on his bedside table of the three of you just a year ago.

Right after you and Cam had graduated college, you all took a road trip to the Grand Canyon and a stranger offered to take your photo. You were happy and in love, holding on to Cam's arm the same way you held onto Spencer's earlier today. The sun was shining on your face, though back then it wasn't illuminating drying tears. Your smile reached your eyes, but it wasn't masking profound sadness.

If Spencer Reid was a good man, he would be letting it go and moving on instead of vowing to spend eternity trying to mend a heart he didn't break. He wouldn't be exacting his own twisted form of vengeance under the covers, stroking himself to the thought of you—to the thought of treating you right.

If he was a good man, he certainly wouldn't be staring at your photo on his bedside table as he did so, calling out your name in a hushed whisper—a prayer.

And yet, here he lays, the thought of you bringing him to completion.

"He didn't deserve you, sweet girl," he confesses breathlessly, right at the precipice. He comes in hot ropes over his bare stomach, visions of your bright eyes and warm, beautiful lips helping him right along.

His first exhale of breath as the high subsides comes out as a form of maniacal laughter; Not only is he now stuck with a mess he has to clean at almost two in the morning, but he's also devolving, clarity smacking right into him like a freight train.

Spencer swears, wishing he'd simply ignored the feeling that urged him to follow Cameron on his date earlier that day. He wishes he'd let it go.

He looks at your picture again and sighs, laughing to himself. "I don't deserve you either."

...THE BAR

Two weeks and two therapy sessions later, and Spencer doesn't feel any better, really.

He hasn't seen you since that day at the coffee shop, but it's like he sees you every day anyway. You're there when he sleeps, mostly. He meets you in dreams, wiping your tears and kissing you better. Each time, you gladly return the favor, kissing him back and subsequently healing some deep part of him he hadn't even realized was ailed.

But obviously that's just a product of this strange, pathetic, fucked-up obsession he's spiraled into, and not anchored to the truth in any way.

That's what he tells himself, at least... no matter how badly he wants there to be truth in it.

Still, it's hard when even the time and distance between you can't seem to shake your effect on him.

Though, perhaps Cameron's role in all of this could be the key to this lingering feeling. He is a common denominator, after all, and the knowledge that he'd chosen to be with your best friend instead of you so soon after breaking it off still rubs him the wrong way. Which, in all honesty, is a conversation he doesn't want to have just yet; It would probably be best if he had a clear mind, one not constantly plagued by daydreams of railing you under the trees in the clearing where you last touched him.

Spencer sighs and takes his glasses off, tossing them aside. He presses his palms into the sides of his face, squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he can until he sees stars, and promptly decides that he needs to leave the house.

Fresh air usually does the trick, but for whatever reason, this long walk to the park is not doing him any favors. The way the leaves rustle in the wind only brings him back to that fateful moment with you in his arms, seeking comfort, and quite frankly, the August heat is making him more irritable.

So, he wanders off to uncharted territories: a random bar that should be pretty dead on a random Wednesday mid-afternoon. He's not exactly sure what it is he hopes to find, but as long as it's a good enough distraction, or even some peace and quiet, he'll gladly take it.

The place isn't very busy, or bright. Neon signs and dim table lamps are about the only sources of light, but compared to the sun outside, Spencer finds it more than comfortable. Some Country duet he doesn't recognize booms over the speakers, low-tempo and sad, but not horrible. The melancholic melody swims nicely through his brain, setting the scene as he sits down at a random table somewhere near the back.

A hostess is quick to ask him what he wants to drink and offers a menu, but all he orders is a glass of water. Whether she questions it or not, he doesn't pay attention. But when she returns about a minute later with his glass, he does notice that the song has finished and started over.

"Hope you don't mind the song," the hostess says with a sigh, noting his quiet curiosity. "Poor thing over there requested it on a loop until she got drunk enough to forget about it..."

Spencer's eyes follow her head-nod towards the corner of the room, where a girl sits slumped over the table with her chin in her hand, the other hand tearing at a napkin.

His heart sinks and skips at the same time as recognition strikes him like lightning.

The hostess has walked away by now, and his still gaze can't seem to wander anywhere else. The odds of him going somewhere random to distract himself from thought of you, only to be graced with your presence, feels too coincidental. It's too good of an excuse to just ignore, consequences be damned.

Right?

Should he say hello? Should he offer to get you home before you truly do become too drunk to be aware of your surroundings?

Regardless of how he feels about you, that would be the responsible, parental thing to do, right?

Jesus fucking Christ, he sighs to himself, downing his water before getting up to see you.

As he gets closer, he hears you humming along to the song, sighing dramatically in between breaths, until you look up to finally meet his eyes and it becomes a gasp.

"Doctor Reid!" you exclaim, sitting straight up and thrusting your arms out in welcome. Your smile is tired, but life has ever-so-slightly begun to creep back into your features. The thought of being a familiar face, and a pleasant one at that, to bring you that life does more to him than he should admit out loud.

A warmth settles into him as your eyes rake over his figure, half-like you can't quite decide if he's real and half-like you might be checking him out.

Don't be weird, he scolds himself, though he's still unable to keep the amused grin from his lips as he greets you gently. Cautiously. "Hello again, sweetheart."

"I'm not spying on Cameron this time, what's your excuse?"

It doesn't entirely make sense, but he understands what you mean. Still, it's not like he can tell you that he was trying to distract himself from thinking about you, so he simply shrugs. "Felt like a change of scenery. I don't get out much."

You giggle a little and slump back down, resting your chin against your hands, still smiling. "Yeah, I know. Are you sad about something, too?"

Spencer shakes his head. "No... Just... bored, I guess."

"Well, you're welcome to join me! I'm not much fun like I used t'be, but the company'd be nice."

How could he deny your invitation, when you're exaggerating a toothy, tipsy smile and batting your eyes like you want something? It charms him almost as much as it scares him.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true," he tells you, pulling up a chair across from you and sliding in. His leg accidentally bumps into yours, and it sends a chill through him. He tries to keep himself calm and collected, but wonders if he looks spooked, because you give him a look.

Turns out, it's just an inebriated look of disbelief. "No, I really am pathetic these days... You don't have to be nice to me, I know it's the truth."

He knows better than to argue with a woman, especially on a subject so sore, so he takes a different approach. "Well, pathetic or not, I still care about you anyway. So I'm more than happy to sit with you for however long you need the company."

You consider his words and then pout, finishing off your drink before you loudly wave your desire for another drink. "And bring one for my new best friend, too!"

Spencer can't help the laugh that leaves him, though you're too caught up in your own little world to notice it.

The same hostess brings over two drinks, eyeing him suspiciously, but before she walks away, you laugh. "It's okay, Anna! That's Doctor Reid, he's my best friend now. My old best friend is out screwing my ex-boyfriend."

"Who happens to be my son," he offers as a more clear explanation as to why he's taken to 'befriending' this drunk woman in a near-empty bar.

Anna looks between you two and nods, amused but not questioning the drama. "Gotcha. If you need anything, just holler."

The song has started over again by this point, and though Spencer's had a bit more excitement than anticipated, it's not enough to forget about it. He recalls Anna's words and the pitying tone in her voice, and tilts his head, watching as you take another sip of your drink. "How many times have you heard this song today?"

"Dunno," you sigh. "Lost count. Cam and I used to sing it together all the time. Not very well, but it was our thing..."

"Hmm, I didn't know that... I don't think I've heard it until today."

"Yeah, well you don't get out much."

A laugh bubbles up out of him involuntarily once again, your charm—even influenced by alcohol and misery—a natural harbinger of joy. The fact that you probably don't even know it only adds to the experience.

Even the way you laugh at his laughing is infectious, until the two of you are mutually giggling and sipping your drinks, and while the song is not forgotten, it's at the very least drowned out by the sound of laughter. Alcohol still may be involved, sure, but where you'd been tired and lost before, the weariness has been lifted by his hand, if only for a moment, and so for now that would have to do.

Eventually, there's a rather quiet moment between you, a lull in conversation that isn't driven by awkwardness or boredom, but by something else that Spencer can't quite put his finger on. He's not entirely convinced that you've sobered up at all, but the hazy look in your eyes isn't so much drunkenness as much as it is mystified. By what, he doesn't know, but it's making him warmer inside than a singular ounce of any alcohol could ever accomplish.

The thought makes him set down his glass; Perhaps he's had enough.

"What's that look for, sweetheart?" he asks quietly, a little too afraid that he should have omitted the nickname. Where it'd been intended innocently before, this time it comes out entirely different, his enamored, lust-drunk curiosity getting the better of him before he can think differently.

His stomach twists.

Still, that look on your face intensifies, and your head tilts thoughtfully, eyes studying him again. Their trail winds everywhere, from his mouth to his hands to his neck... When you finally meet his gaze again, you lean back in your chair. A smile unlike any other he's ever seen adorns your face and sends a jolt through his nervous system.

"I like when you call me that, you know..."

"Yeah?"

Stop it, Spencer...

You nod slowly, never taking your eyes off of him.

If he were a good man, he'd blame it on the drinking and tell you to get home safe, being on his merry way, considering the fact that you're probably just hurting and desperate to get back at Cameron somehow, and that he's a convenient means to a sweet, revengeful end.

He lets the moment hang in the air for a while, holding your stare and feeling his resolve start to crumble beneath the weight of it. That damn song still drawls out beneath the sharp, distant clatter of dishes and late-lunch conversation, and your pretty eyes are easily the brightest source of light in the whole place, begging him to make a move and singing just as loudly, too. They're waiting. Eager. Hungry... All of it is almost too much to take at once.

And then...

"Let me take you home, sweetheart."

He knows it's mean. He also knows that it's going to hurt. But if he doesn't, he knows he'll end up regretting it.

Spencer helps you out of the building and gives Anna a twenty-dollar tip on the way out.

You're more stable than he thought you'd be, walking in a straight line and not stumbling at all as he takes you to your car. He holds his hand out for your keys, to which you oblige without problem, letting your touch linger. As he helps you in the passenger seat and buckles your seat belt, he notices your eyes are closed, but that you're smiling.

"Something funny?" he asks, getting the buckle in place. Still he remains there, arms trapping you into the seat.

You shake your head and open your eyes, searching the features of his face and sinking further into the upholstery. Your smile softens, but doesn't waver in its genuine joy, which is why it breaks his heart when you reply, "Nope." The word is quiet. Serious. The moment is everything he wished it could be, your eyes swimming with some form of devotion that calls to him like a sirens' song.

Only, he can still smell the inebriation on your breath, potent and grounding him to reality, and so he must continue to be mean.

He smiles at you before pulling away and closing your door, then walking to the drivers' side while taking the deepest breath of his life. It's courage and disappointment and humor all in one fucked-up intake of oxygen, but it gives him the push he needs to finally open the car door and begin your journey home.

The ride is mostly quiet, though, save for your humming. The haunting melody will stick around in his head for weeks, he's sure, just another thing to constantly remind him of you, and another thing to break his heart every time he sees his son's smiling face.

Even though he can feel the fury and confusion and lust swimming around in his body like a whirlpool, Spencer manages to walk you up the stairs of your apartment, and to your door, without losing any ounce of control. He leads you gently through your home until you've reached the bedroom, and even then he doesn't falter.

It does make him nervous though, feeling your hands on him. You're a little more unsteady now, though he attributes that to the soon-to-be broken, unspoken promise of sex. It pains him, knowing he used your influenced in-the-moment attraction to him as an excuse to get you safely home. But had he simply left you there to suffer alone, at the mercy of substances and strangers who might not have been so kind, he would have felt worse.

He helps you take off your shoes and puts your belongings on the bedside table, feeling your eyes on him and hoping you won't remember enough of this later to hate him or hate yourself after the fact.

When Spencer turns around, you're already sitting on the bed, and while the sight of it entices him more than words could accurately say, he refrains. He puts on his most fatherly face, crosses his arms, and braces himself for the blow.

"Come on. Under the covers."

"It's only like noon."

Not quite the response he was expecting, but he can work with it. He smiles, just a little. "It's almost Three-PM. You should really get some rest. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Your eyes drop to the floor, and Spencer can feel his heart drop there, too, when you say quietly, "I haven't..."

Against his better judgement, he steps forward and catches your attention again, your head lifting to meet his eyes.

"I know, sweetheart. Sleep."

Your response is a shaky breath and big, watery eyes, the last few weeks of sadness catching up to you. Watching it unfold in real-time is utterly heartbreaking, so much so that when you ask him an unexpected question, he doesn't have the heart, or the brain, to say no.

"Will you sing me to sleep?"

"Of course."

You lie down then, shuffling your way under the covers as Spencer sits down beside you, helping you settle in. His hand instinctively reaches out to gently massage your scalp, something that had always put Cameron to sleep when he'd wake up with nightmares.

Though, he never sang to him. He never was good at it...

Still, because he can't seem to resist your charms, he tries anyway, singing the only thing he can think of at the moment. A newly familiar smoky tune that he now knows every single word to.

"Every woman deserves a moment of weakness. Last night with me was yours, I guess. I must have whispered what you wanted to hear. And when I asked you, you probably said yes."

Softly, you hum along with him on the next part, a duet of desperation and longing that definitely sounds better over the bar speakers, but feels more accurate in this small, sorrowful bedroom.

"Cause it sounds like something I'd say, in the midst of lonely and the Marlboro haze. It sounds better in the dark than in the light of day, but it sounds like something I'd say."

With your eyes closed, you smile, breathing a small laugh through your nose. "You're better at it than he was."

Spencer is surprised by your words and how much they twist this serrated, beautiful knife. They only remind him of the gravity of the situation at hand—at how badly he shouldn't be here right now... He shouldn't care so much, he shouldn't revel in the fact that you're actively feeding into this fantasy where he's healing you and fixing the mistake that his son made...

He shouldn't be falling in love with you.

Of course, he refuses to even consider that possibility, even though he's feeling things around you that he's only ever felt for a few others.

Still, it rattles him enough that after you've finally fallen fast asleep and he walks home, he schedules an extra session with his therapist and takes a long, hot shower, hoping to wash away any lingering trace of you.

Naturally, no amount of scorching water, soap, or steam seems to do the trick.

He wonders if it ever will.

...THE CLEARING

Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest, and in your brain, and in your fingertips... You can practically feel it thrumming in every part of your body as you sit on a log and soak up what small rays of sunshine manage to find their way through the trees.

Thank you for bringing me home earlier... I'm sorry if I made your day weird or inconvenient.

The world around you is beautiful, bright, and lively, though something nameless is missing. You know whatever it is will appear with vivid recognition when he shows up, but there's a small lick of fear creeping up the back of your neck and finding its way into your brain that wonders if he won't... That somehow you've fabricated this whole thing—plucked out imaginary moments of warmth from a desperate place in need of comfort, and neatly placed them in the massive hole left in your heart by Cameron and Danica and their betrayal.

It's not a problem at all. I'm glad you got home safe. Rest, and remember to take your time. These things don't heal overnight.

You hadn't expected Spencer to text you back right away, given that it was just after midnight and you'd never really known him to be much of a night owl. Not to mention you probably should have deleted his phone number after the breakup in the first place. Sure, he had been kind to you after everything which was a relief and a comfort, but there had to be some unspoken rule about late-night texting your ex-boyfriend's dad and expecting a response, much less right away.

But then, your phone lit up with his message almost immediately, and there was an odd clenching in your stomach that refused to subside even long into the early hours of morning.

Your fingers moved in response before your brain had a chance to think it over.

Did you sing to me or did I make that up?

There was a bit more time after that until he responded, and you swore you'd fucked it all up. You threw up and downed a glass of water, but when you picked up your phone again, his name was there. You were suddenly nauseous again, but at the mercy of something else, something familiar and foreign all at once.

I don't know if I'd call what I did "singing"... But sure. Ha

God, you hadn't smiled so hard in... Could you even remember how long it had been? Even now, you think on it and can't even come up with a ballpark answer, which should sadden you but only makes your heart flutter once more. In that moment, reading his words, memories came flooding back. Flickers of your drunken afternoon with Spencer started to string together, feeling more like a movie and less like a silly revenge fantasy.

Without even thinking, you texted him with the truth, even if you didn't quite know what it meant yet.

Either way, I like hearing your voice. It'd be nice to hear it more often.

His response made you laugh so hard you almost threw up again.

Are you still drunk?

You weren't, and you aren't, but you may as well be. Merely the thought of him has you dizzy, and every day it grows worse and worse as you text and talk on the phone like you're best friends.

This morning's message still sings in the back of your mind as you wait for him, melodically bright and filling in the gaps of silence where the trees don't rustle.

Is it weird that I really want to see you again?

You replied, Is it weird that I don’t think that’s weird at all?

And since then you’ve wondered, is it even weirder that you’d go so far to say you’re so incredibly flattered by his words that your entire body pulsates with a violent wave of heat just thinking about seeing him face-to-face again?

The gentle breeze does nothing to cool you down, the sweet, damning effect of Spencer Reid burying you alive even hours later.

When you spot him, the world stops rotating. He’s bright smiles and warm eyes and long, fluid limbs, and as he makes his way towards you, you forget how to stand. Your ass is completely glued to its resting spot on the log, and your legs are of no help. All you can do is stare at him and feel your heart flutter rapidly in your chest. You’re not even sure if you’re smiling, though the thought of being caught just staring at him with your tongue practically hanging out is embarrassing enough to pull one from you anyway.

Only when his hand extends to help you up do you finally snap out of whatever dream-world you’ve put yourself in and clear your throat with an avoidant laugh.

“Hi,” you greet him stupidly, still too overwhelmed by him to try anything more interesting.

Spencer grins down at you, your gaze trailing softly upwards along the length of his face until you meet his eyes, and only then does he reply, “Hi.”

The word is infinitely more interesting coming from his well-spoken, experienced lips. They even go the extra mile, twitching up into a larger grin at your silence.

You’re lovesick, he’s amused, and this is entirely fucked.

“What were you up to today?”

Thankfully, even your poor attempt at small talk is merely a small embarrassment scrawled in sand and violently washed away by the tides of his voice. When he speaks, it cleanses you. Clears your mind. Offers a clean slate.

“Nothing special… Read a couple books, made some lunch… If I’m being honest, I mostly just tried to occupy my mind while I waited to come see you.”

Despite the clear setup for him to be cheeky or smug about it, Spencer’s words only exude comfortable honesty. He doesn’t tell you this to get you blushing or to take advantage of this situation. No, every word is spoken without an ulterior motive at all. Though, his sparkling eyes seem to tell a different story.

“Same,” you confess through a small laugh. “I know I joked about you being my new best friend at the bar, but these days it really does feel like it.”

“So you do remember that day…”

“Most of it, yeah. Kind of embarrassed about that to be honest…”

Spencer doesn’t say anything, only hums consideringly as he squeezes your hand. The small gesture suddenly reminds you of his physical presence, and a rush of warmth pulses at your fingertips.

“Truthfully, I am, too.”

This takes you by surprise. “How?”

He seems to regret saying anything, a quick flash of panic in his eyes before he sighs and squeezes your hand again. “Knowing it was my son who did that to you, and not understanding why… You have no idea how much I… I hate that I can’t figure it out.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s not your responsibility… I guess that’s mostly why I’m embarrassed about the whole thing. You shouldn’t have to fix something that you didn’t break.”

“Didn’t I, though? In one way or another?”

The intense emotion swirling in his eyes takes over you like a tidal wave, and suddenly you’re heartbroken for another reason entirely.

“Don’t get all philosophical on me over this,” you say firmly, squeezing his hand back. “Cameron made that decision, not you. You’re not him.”

“But he’s part of me.”

“So? You didn’t break my heart, he did. And I don’t care what you have to say about that. You are a good man and a good father, and you shouldn’t doubt that.”

You aren’t sure what you expected as a response, but it surely wasn’t the bitter laugh that tumbles from his lips.

“What?” you ask sharply in desperation, grabbing his other hand and practically begging him to listen to you. “What’s so funny?”

Spencer sighs, pulling you flush to his body and taking your breath away in one second flat.

“I doubt those things every damn second I’m with you…”

Not only is your breath gone, but now the ability to think has gone with it. All you know is Spencer. His eyes are pulling you in and daring you to look away. His hands are sliding up the expanse of your arms, and chills erupt in their wake. The world around you has faded to a nothingness that isn’t even scary. It’s just forgotten. Irrelevant.

The only thing that feels natural is the way you tilt your head to brush your lips over his. Just lightly, barely even a touch at all. Still, the intimate contact shocks you at first, bringing you to life in a way you hadn’t thought possible. Slowly, you lean into it, and he does, too. With each second that passes, this one press of your lips against his becomes stronger, the two of you drawing more and more near until it’s all there is.

And then, when his mouth parts, inviting you deeper, it’s like he swallows you whole. Your body melts into his as he welcomes you into his entire world, hugging and kissing you at the same time. Behind closed lids, your eyes flutter to the back of your head, a soft whine escaping your throat and feeding Spencer’s desire until it becomes heavy.

A slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue into your mouth and the sudden press of his erection to your thigh is what jolts a sense of reality into you, and as much as your body is screaming at you to indulge, you know there will, in fact, be consequences.

You pull yourself away from him, just enough to disconnect your lips and remove yourself from the world of lust he’s opened for you. Still, his arms embrace you, loose and comforting and ready to conform to however you see fit.

Spencer stares at you, waiting, studying your kissed-out, panting lips and the panic settling in your eyes as the reality of the situation catches up with you.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp, still clutching onto his shirt and then letting it go to smooth it out. “I… I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

When you meet his eyes again, they haven’t changed. A vibrant chill runs through you again, but you’re still cognisant— Still worried about how fucked it is that you’ve just made out with your ex-boyfriend’s father. Still praying to whoever or whatever is listening that you didn’t just ruin this beautiful friendship you’ve started to form—the one thing that was beginning to pull you out of the darkest period of your life thus far.

You’re scared, you realize, as you stare into Spencer’s eyes, charged, unresolved need hanging thickly in the atmosphere around you. 

You’re terrified, and yet something urges you forward.

Whether it’s insanity or stupidity or desperation to feel something, you don’t know, but the way he practically catches you and welcomes you back without stumbling is satisfying enough to quell the need for answers.

Besides, his lips are the only answer you want, frankly.

You lunge and kiss him with a fervor that makes you question everything about your previous relationship and this new bond you’ve started to form with Spencer after the fact, but only for half a second before his own fervor only rivals it. In fact, the way his mouth possesses yours—coaxing your submission from you with just a few meticulous strokes of the tongue—has you wondering if perhaps he’s going through a similar dilemma.

How long has he wanted this? Has he dreamt of it? He sure as fuck kisses you like he has, but how much of that is truth and how much is merely a product of your unspoken, deep-seeded desire to get Cameron back for what he did to you?

And would he actually be willing to offer you that satisfaction, if you asked?

Perhaps you’ll ask him these things another time, but at the moment, your brain is more than ready to grow numb at the mercy of Spencer’s kisses.

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

because i liked a boy - spencer reid x fem!reader

somehow a reporter finds out about reader's relationship with none other than her coworker, dr spencer reid and shames her for it during a press conference

genre: flangst wc: 1355 warnings: medialiaison!reader established relationship, slut-shaming, feminism talk, upset spencer, morgan mention, mentioned case involving children

"This is a rough composite sketch of the UnSub. If anyone sees him, please call us using the number on the screen. Any questions?" you speak clearly, eyebrows raised and back straight.

It's a tough case this time, not that any are easy. The ones involving children–like this one–are the worst. You know that. It’s yet to hit you this hard, though. You're used to being in front of a camera all fake smiles and airbrushed to look porcelain but you're struggling to hold it together today. It’s never been easy to see grieving parents begging for their kid’s life on national television.

It also doesn't help that you haven't seen Spencer much these past two days. Ever since HR found out about you two, he’s been trying to keep his distance for professionalism’s sake. You appreciate it, of course, but you wish everything could be normal again. You miss working alongside him, sneaking tiny waist pinches every little while. Maybe you’re codependent.

One of the male reporters holding a microphone asks plainly, like it isn’t rude, “how do you expect this case to go to trial with your ongoing relationship within your team? Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest?”

Now, how did they find out about that?

Luckily, Hotch steps in before you need to form a response. You’re left flushed and out of sorts, needing some water or something. It’s not like you’ve never had a bad press experience but nothing that came after you specifically. Why do they even care in the first place? Are you really that interesting? Is your love life really that interesting? His mustn’t be.

To Hotch, he spits, “it’s a valid question, Agent, you can’t expect no one to comment on one of your unit’s members sleeping her way to the top or… sleeping her way to getting a case dismissed.”

You want to stay, fight, cry, maybe even guilt him into apologizing, but, to your dismay, you’re pulled away by Morgan who looks just as upset as you do. If there weren’t a room full of people stopping him, you’re sure he would’ve hurt the guy. You don’t want to be dragged away by the action figure that is Derek Morgan so you try to pour your feelings into words. “The conference– the case–!”

Morgan stares at you in a way that very clearly says are you done? And, yes, you guess you are. You sigh, nodding reluctantly.

“Hotch will figure it out,” he assures softly but firmly.

You’re escorted to the break room where you watch the television only to see that very same reporter, spewing his nonsense again. Low and behold, he’s still stuck on the topic of you.

“An anonymous source discloses the identities of two FBI agents with the Behavioural Analysis Unit that are in a relationship of hidden rendezvous.”

The pitter-patter of your heart is louder than usual as he reads out your names along with the loving message, “I guess this proves that women really can’t be trained. What a shame, she’s certainly got–”

With that, you shut off the disgusting noises coming from someone claiming to be a man. You’ve never been good at taking insults but this was something else entirely. Your chest burns. You’re being perceived as a person you’re not. Everything you’ve tried so hard to build could all come crashing down at this very moment if you let it.

All because you liked a boy?

It feels ridiculous, like a step in the wrong direction for all womankind. That’s dramatic, you’re sure, but this is so twenty years ago. What happened to feminism, for fuck’s sakes? You wouldn’t give Spencer up for anything less than solving world hunger, but you wish this whole ordeal could’ve never happened. What if you lose your job? What if you lose this case because you’re too sensitive to male attention for your own good? Unfortunate circumstances led here and you wish it could be simple. It’s a tall order, but you wish UnSubs and all the people who enjoy pinning others down would simply cease to exist. You wish Spencer was here.

As if reading you all the way from canvassing the neighborhood, he’s suddenly visible, walking towards the doorway with quick Converse-sounding steps, Morgan’s hand on his shoulder. He looks worried. What worries you, though, is that he looks guilty. That hurts.

Familiar arms wrap around you as he kneels on the floor in front of the couch. “Hey, I heard what happened. Are you okay?” Spencer whispers, lips pressed into the fabric covering your shoulder.

You ponder the question for a moment before nodding. You’re not quite sure how you feel, if you’re being completely truthful. Criticism was never something you’ve taken well. Not ever. Maybe you deserve it, though. After all, you are sleeping with a coworker. You’re an agent, it’s not appropriate of you in the least. You should’ve kept to yourself, been the good girl the world wanted you to be. Female agents in the big bad FBI are already seen a certain way. You just happened to worsen it with wide-eyed affection.

How he always does, he mutters an explanation, “people like that don’t have anything going for them, you know. They report on others because their own life is insignificant.”

It’s wildly the wrong time to laugh but you do, flushed cheeks plumping from a happy smile. He pulls away and your hands find his face like they always seem to do. “I know.”

He nods. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

He’s so unbelievably pretty that it almost makes you want to cry. Those same somber eyes that you’re sure mirror yours stare deep.

“It just sucks… you know?” you say so very quietly.

Nodding, he chews on his lip. “I know.”

“It’s like… I thought slut-shaming was over,” you laugh bitterly.

You can tell he feels bad. It’s not like this is his fault. You know he believes it is, anyways.

“It should be. It’s ridiculous. This isn’t your fault. That useless guy should be spending the night in a cell for harassing an agent not on the ten o’clock news airing out our personal matters.”

It’s really not often you see him like this, upset and wielding pain-filled threats. It never fails to amuse you. You’re not sure why. Something about the juxtaposition of his usual sweet demeanor and this annoyed ranting one, you suppose.

“It’s kind of funny.”

“Funny?”

You smile and nod, your thumb tracing his lower lip. “A little. We’re the most enthralling news in all of small-town-Colorado.”

While Spencer doesn’t find it quite as giggle-inducing, he mimics the pull of your mouth’s corners and shows his reluctant agreement with a bob of his head. “That is… silly, I guess.”

“We’re basically stars,” you shrug.

In honest disbelief and certainly awe for your ability to brush off the event with humour, he shakes his head, curls falling out of place. Your fingers rush to correct it. The golden eyes you love stay stubbornly put on your own. Breaths mix together in the close proximity despite you not recalling how you got so close. It’s proven difficult to care when his plush lips find yours. Carefully and with love, he kisses you. With no intent, no desire other than to make you feel better. It breaks stickily, the shimmer that once was on your lips now ghosting around his mouth. You grin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Spencer tenderly mutters.

Gently, you answer, “I’m sure. I mean, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

You believe yourself. You’d never doubt your relationship with Spencer. It just sucks that they had to poke holes in your safe place. That safe place being Spencer. Your home. You know because of your profiler-by-association background that he was right about the reporter being not fulfilled enough in his own life that he had to insert himself into yours. That didn’t make it drastically better, anyway. Perhaps your personal life should be kept away from work.

But it’s not your fault that work happens to include Dr. Spencer Reid.

[thankskenpenders]

Thoughts on Sonic 3!

On December 10th, 2018, I was on the last day of a trip to Milwaukee. The night before, I'd attended the wedding of one of my best friends, Jake, who I've known since high school. Even though half of us were sick the whole trip, it was a great time. Derek had asked the wedding DJ to play "One Week" as the first request of the night, and proceeded to lip sync the entire song on the dance floor. On that cold winter morning in a hotel room hundreds of miles from home, Derek and I groggily checked Twitter on our phones and saw the shocking news: Paramount had teased the design for Sonic from their upcoming live action film. Even in silhouette, the shape of his face and the realistic curvature of his limbs made him look like a grotesque little homunculus. This movie was going to suck.

Six years later, I've now seen the third entry in what's become a hugely successful Sonic film franchise. It features Keanu Reeves as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog in a fairly faithful adaptation of his story from Sonic Adventure 2. At the time of writing, it currently sits at a whopping 86% positive rating on Rotten Tomatoes, vying for the title of the best-reviewed theatrically released video game movie of all time. Critics are saying nice things about the emotional journey of Shadow the Hedgehog. Never in a million years did I think I'd see this day.

I, too, have now seen this movie, and... yeah, it's pretty good.

I'm gonna get deep into spoilers here, so I'll just say up front that I liked the movie. It feels like just about the best possible execution of this version of Sonic. But that's also damning it with faint praise, depending on who you ask.

If you're a fan of the games who didn't like the second movie, you probably won't get much out of this one, either, unless you just really love Shadow so much that nothing else in the movie matters to you. It doesn't reinvent the wheel for this film series. It's still got a heaping helping of broad comedy, cheap pop culture references, bad one-liners, and characterization that diverges greatly from the source material. This is not high art, nor is it a direct adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2. If you're the kind of person who hates this portrayal of Sonic and Eggman, or a lore nerd who'll hate that they let Shadow do Chaos Control without an Emerald, then just don't bother with this.

On the other hand, if you did enjoy the last movie, then you'll probably have a fun time here, too. Shadow is very cool. The action is the best it's ever been. There's a bit more focus on characters from the games, and less on human characters invented for the movies—with the exception of Agent Stone, who's in this a lot because everyone likes him. There's a lot of SA2 fanservice. They even play "Live and Learn." It's a fun time! Be sure to stick around through the end credits.

And now, to dig deeper, let's get into the spoilers! I'm gonna jump around a lot and talk about different aspects of the movie, spoiling everything along the way.

Shadow and his reams of lore

Here's the main thing you came for: Shadow is great in this! They really did him justice. Keanu Reeves is extremely solid in the role. He can be a bit flat as an actor sometimes, but I think he did well here. He can be tough and menacing, but he can also be earnest and emotionally vulnerable. Good casting call. Excited at the prospect of seeing more of him in the future.

Really, as a Sonic Lore Nerd I'm most interested in discussing the changes they made to Shadow's backstory. I'm sure there will be many fans upset with the changes, but for the sake of streamlining a complicated backstory that was subject to a bunch of retcons and multiple layers of amnesia and fitting it into a 110-minute movie, I think they generally made smart choices.

For one, Gerald didn't create Shadow using Black Arms DNA, because Gerald didn't create Shadow at all! Instead, Shadow arrived on Earth inside a meteor, and Gerald was merely the prominent GUN scientist who studied him after he was captured. (That meteor does have very strong Black Arms vibes, though, so I wouldn't rule out the possibility of them exploring that stuff in the future.) This simplifies things a lot and allows Shadow to be a direct foil for Sonic, kind of a version of our hero who was treated as a lab rat and lost the only human he considered family instead of finding happiness like Sonic has. Then later Shadow hurts Tom and Sonic wants revenge, and it mirrors Shadow's feelings about Maria, and after they fight they can empathize with each other over this, Shadow sees the error of his ways and helps save the world, yada yada yada. You get it. People predicted 95% of this movie's plot from the trailers, but it's effective.

Likewise, all of the stuff about creating Shadow as the ultimate life form who's immune to all disease to cure Maria's illness is completely cut out. Shadow's still called the ultimate life form, but he's treated as more of an energy source than a genetic research project here, playing off of the stuff about Eggman wanting to harness Sonic's natural Chaos Energy in the movies. The original intent behind the ultimate life form project was always hard to explain in the games and doesn't even come up that much, so I don't blame them for cutting it.

Because Gerald isn't doing genetic experiments and creating artificial life, the Biolizard also doesn't exist. It does, however, appear in an old monster movie Shadow and Maria watch in a montage, with Shadow later commenting that he worries he's a monster like the one he saw in the movie. That's a clever way to include it, I think.

The ARK sort of exists. There was no space colony back in the '70s, all of the events of Shadow's flashbacks just took place at a secret GUN base on Earth. Fair enough for a version of the story ostensibly set in the real world. The big space laser in the third act of the film is obviously supposed to evoke the ARK, but it's referred to as simply the Eclipse Cannon. It's still not a full-blown space colony, just a weapon of mass destruction Gerald designed for GUN in exchange for his release (while also secretly planning to use it to blow up the planet in an act of revenge). I am, however, pleased to report that the Eclipse Cannon still has a giant Eggman face on it.

And as for Maria: I like her in this! She's obviously not going to get a ton of screentime, and she's always going to be a very straightforward character, but she's more playful and lively here. She teases Shadow for being grumpy and plays with him a lot. She feels less like this perfect embodiment of everything good and pure in the world and more like an actual kid. She's still not a complex character, but it works.

And the most important question: do they show a child getting shot and killed by the military? The answer is almost. In the flashback, GUN soldiers chase Maria, Shadow, and Gerald and ready their guns, but the young Commander Walters (who's in his 20s rather than being a kid) grabs them and tries to stop them from firing on a child. In the chaos, a soldier fires, missing Maria but hitting a generator that then blows up and kills Maria. So, y'know, close enough I suppose.

So, yes, many of the details change here, but they captured the gist of Shadow's story from SA2. The emotional core is there. I will say, though, I almost feel like Shadow isn't in this movie as much as I thought he'd be? I think he's used effectively in all of his scenes, and they make room for his backstory, and BOY does he get to kick ass in his fights, but for much of the middle part of the movie he's overshadowed by Ivo and Gerald. Though this might be a compromise to leave more screentime for...

Tails and Knuckles

I'm relieved to report that Tails and Knuckles both get a good amount of cool stuff to do in this! They don't feel like an afterthought.

I was worried that Tails in particular would completely fall by the wayside, since even his debut movie didn't entirely know what to do with him. But he's good here. He pretty much just feels like the Tails from the games at this point, especially since they dropped that fawning admiration he had for Sonic with that running gag of him going "Only Sonic the Hedgehog could do that!" He often chimes in as the one who wants Team Sonic to stick together when Sonic and Knuckles bicker. He particularly gets to shine in the Mission Impossible-inspired heist sequence at the GUN headquarters in London that serves as the climax of the second act, which feels like it was tailor made to let him shine as the tech guy of the team. He also gets several opportunities to swoop in and catch someone for a save in an action scene. He's good in this!

Knuckles is... fine. He's definitely fallen into the role of the comic relief dumb bruiser since joining the good guys, but he's at least a little better than he was in his own streaming show. The jokes lean more into him just being really brash about his strength and skill, rather than him being this archaic warrior who doesn't understand anything about the modern world. He also gets a few more serious bits in the back third of the movie where he gets to shine a little more, so overall it evens out to him being fine. They could've done way worse.

As for the relevance of the Knuckles show: Knuckles is now said to be the guardian of the Master Emerald, like in the games, though with no Angel Island this amounts to him hiding it somewhere for safekeeping. It's eventually revealed that he just gave it to Wade, who gets exactly one scene (sorry, Wade-heads) for a joke about him using the Master Emerald as a hockey puck. So, the miniseries explained why Knuckles has a connection with Wade. That's it! Also I think Knuckles might use the Flames of Disaster a bit in fights, but they never called the technique out by name, so I never really thought about it. So, yeah, the six-episode streaming miniseries about Wade bowling has zero meaningful relevance to the Shadow movie. Who could have seen this coming?

Miscellaneous humans

For that matter, the human supporting cast is MASSIVELY downplayed in this one. Tom and Maddie are there for two key sequences (the beginning of the movie and the GUN HQ heist), but otherwise they disappear for long stretches of the movie. They don't go to Japan in act I, nor do they go to space in act III, and there's no subplot for them during those periods, either. There's nothing like the wedding subplot in Sonic 2 where they'd constantly cut back to Hawaii for comic relief with the humans and only reveal why this was relevant to the plot near the end. (There's also no random dance battle in Siberia.) If a human character is here, it's because they have something to contribute to the plot right away. Most people will probably consider this an improvement, and I'd certainly say it makes for a much tighter script, though I have to remind everyone that I thought the wedding being a GUN sting operation was such a funny twist that I'm a defender of the Hawaii subplot.

On the subject of Tom, something funny I've noticed is that they've just completely downplayed the fact that Tom and Wade are cops. Tom being a cop never comes up once. Wade being a cop only gets referenced via the fact that he's practicing hockey on the roof of the police station in his one scene, but he's not in uniform or anything. They clearly got the memo that we don't want Sonic to hang out with cops.

Here's something else funny: Rachel and Randall got character posters, but they're actually not in the movie! Not technically, anyway. During the heist sequence at GUN HQ, Tom and Maddie use some gadgets Tails invented to holographically disguise themselves as those other characters. But the real Rachel and Randall never show up in the flesh. It's a very odd way to shoehorn the actors into the movie. (Jojo is also absent. They did not give her Amy's role of being the girl who reminds Shadow of Maria. Instead they just let Sonic have the big heart to heart with Shadow that makes him switch sides.)

You know who IS in this movie? Krysten Ritter. Not as the voice of Rouge, as the fandom once hoped, but as a director for GUN. She gets like three scenes and she feels completely checked out the whole time. Can't say I blame her! She's not really a character, just a plot necessity. Commander Walters dies in Japan but gives Sonic one of two keycards needed to activate the Eclipse Cannon, and then Ritter's character assumes Sonic stole it and labels him a bad guy. So that's why they have to break into GUN HQ in the second act instead of just talking things out with them. Still, I am at least relieved that Sonic doesn't work with GUN for most of the movie.

I gotta be honest: when Walters pulled a credit card-shaped object out of his pocket, I thought he was about to give Sonic another Olive Garden gift card as his final act before dying. Part of me wishes that happened.

The supporting human character in this who really gets to shine is Agent Stone, which I'm sure most fans will agree was the correct choice. There's a LOT of Agent Stone in this. He's good. I don't have much to say about him, but he's fun as usual.

But, of course, the ones who steal the show are Jim Carrey, and his costar Jim Carrey.

The Robotniks

I've gone back and forth on whether or not I can actually see movie Robotnik as Robotnik. I think with this third and final entry in the Jim Carrey Robotnik Trilogy, I've landed on... yeah, that's just Jim Carrey playing a Jim Carrey character. He's absolutely having fun with the role, and I enjoyed watching him, but I think a lot of that comes down to the fact that I'm a millennial who grew up watching Jim Carrey movies. If you didn't like him before, this movie will probably be nails on a chalkboard to you, because now there are two of him.

Ivo's arc here leans very heavily into the fact that he grew up as an orphan and never knew his family, a thing offhandedly mentioned in the first movie that's never been a thing for any other version of the character. Here, he learns that he has a living grandfather who's also a mad scientist, and it feels like a hole in his heart has been filled. It certainly makes sense for a place to take this version of the character, and it fits with the movie's themes of finding and losing family, but the cartoonish, childlike affection Ivo feels towards Gerald and all the scenes of them frolicking and dancing together have basically nothing to do with the characters from the games. He's a fun villain for this movie, but he's overwhelmingly used as comic relief this time rather than as a serious threat. He doesn't particularly feel like Sega's Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the arch nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog who'd take over the world with an army of robots and a fleet of airships in the span of a day if Sonic wasn't around to stop him. He's a guy who lives in a big crab robot and has some drones. He has more in common with Carrey's depictions of the Grinch or the Riddler or Count Olaf than Dr. Eggman. Though he does, at least, finally get his outfit from the games by the end of the movie. So that's something. And also he's in a fat suit now. They only make jokes at the expense of his weight a little. Hooray...?

Gerald, meanwhile, is... largely the same character as movie Eggman, but older, so they can make jokes about him having saggy flesh and smelling funny and needing dentures. (Also, his voice kind of sounds like Homer Simpson sometimes?) To his credit, Carrey absolutely nails the handful of more serious scenes Gerald gets, whether it's Maria's death or his sinister turn when he reveals that he actually wants to destroy the Earth. But then it's right back to goofs about there being two of the same guy. Even the final battle features a lot of slapstick shenanigans with the two Robotniks fighting each other. I was able to enjoy the absurdity of it all, but if the humor doesn't land for you the dual Jim Carrey schtick is a hell of a lot of the movie. I wouldn't be surprised if there was more Gerald than Shadow in the movie, when you go and tally up their screentime. I was able to enjoy the sheer absurdity of it, but your mileage will vary.

I will, however, say that the split screen stuff they do with the two Carreys is EXTREMELY impressive, from a filmmaking perspective. They were absolutely flexing with their ability to pull the effect off. They don't rely on cheap tricks like cutting a lot, or having shot/reverse shot scenes where you're looking at the back of a body double's head. Instead they have a lot of long takes where the two Robotniks are talking to each other, you can see both of their faces, and they'll even hug and touch each other a lot, and the whole time the conversation maintains a natural pace like it really is two actors playing off of each other. It's really well done. It's an incredibly silly idea, but boy did they commit to it.

Sonic

I've hardly said anything about Sonic himself in all of this. It's his movie, isn't it! Well... I don't know, he's fine.

I feel like movie Sonic is a known quantity at this point, and either you like this take on the character or you don't. There was some speculation early on that this was supposed to be a younger Sonic who would grow into being the character we know from the games and comics, the one who's still got lots of quips but is also kind of aloof and cool, a free spirit who goes where the wind takes him, a figure the other characters look up to. And... no, that didn't happen. Once again he gets more serious as the stakes are raised, and he's totally badass when he goes Super, but the rest of the time he's still a little goober with tons of generic one-liners who learns schmaltzy lessons about the importance of family. He's still constantly going to undercut the tension of most scenes by cracking a pop culture reference that will make the average American parent go "haha I've heard of that." I don't think they're ever gonna change that. I think this just what the writers think Sonic is like.

And, again, for what it is, it's fine. He's a little annoying. You already know how you feel about movie Sonic. This third entry won't change that. But they do, at least, have him say "Talk about low budget flights, no food or movies... I'm outta here!" before jumping out of a helicopter. As my thoughts on the climax will show, I am not immune to fanservice.

The climax

God, the climax is SOOOOO fucking good. It's fantastic. Easily the best action these movies have ever done.

Rather than saving Super Shadow for the team-up with Sonic at the end, they have both of them go Super to fight each other first, and they just go full DBZ with it, fighting across the entire planet. It absolutely rules. I think this is the new coolest fight the two of them have had in anything ever. And then they have to stop the Eclipse Cannon together, and sure, there's no Biolizard. But Gerald DOES release a swarm of GUN Hunter robots, and the ensuing space battle turns into some Gundam shit. It's good! It's so good!!! The movie's flaws kind of melt away for me here when I'm watching Super Shadow take out an army of robots with Chaos Spears on the big screen. What a timeline we're living in.

And yes, they play "Live and Learn." They had to. They knew the assignment. They actually play a slight remix, but it's still got the original vocals, so it's perfectly recognizable. Actually, the tune of the song is used as a leitmotif for Shadow throughout the movie, first introduced via an acoustic guitar version played by Maria, and I really love that. I've been begging these movies to use more music from the games the whole time, and I'm glad they finally did so here. (They also use the traditional level clear jingle early in the film, and Eggman's theme from SA2 is very briefly used as a ringtone.)

... Anyway, uh, meanwhile Eggman, Tails, and Knuckles straight up just kill Gerald to save the world? They unceremoniously knock him into an energy field at the end of their slapstick fight aboard the Eclipse Cannon and he disintegrates like he hit a bugzapper. It's over in an instant. It's not graphic or anything, but it's, like... I didn't expect them to show it, or for it to be such a casual murder! Eggman has one quip about it and then immediately moves on.

Shortly after this, Eggman and Shadow sacrifice themselves to stop the Eclipse Cannon. Shadow's sacrifice doesn't stick, obviously (he's revealed to be alive by the end of the second stinger—pretend to be shocked), but Eggman's probably dead dead. I seriously doubt Jim Carrey's gonna come out of retirement for these movies again. His final moments before the big explosion are also SO dragged out and belabored. He has a dramatic final line like ten times in a row. It really just feels like the series saying goodbye to Carrey. And, again, it feels like a fitting enough end for this Eggman's arc, but it's an odd adaptation of the character from the games.

And so, that's what we're left with. This is far from Sonic Adventure 2: The Movie. It's not that, though there are many, many references made to that game in particular. It's a sequel to the film Sonic the Hedgehog 2 that has a similar tone and style, but Shadow and Gerald are in it, and Shadow gets some really cool fights, and there's a liiiiiittle more focus on stuff from the games than last time, and the script's a little tighter. If that sounds fun to you, you will have fun with this. I know I did. If it doesn't, you're probably better off waiting for them to inevitably do an animated reboot whenever this live action series runs out of steam.

It hasn't quite run out of steam yet, though...

The post-credits scenes, and the future

One of the big questions going into this was: what's next? How do they top a Shadow movie with heavy Sonic Adventure 2 overtones, in terms of hype for the fans? How do you fill Eggman's shoes after Carrey retires, for real this time? There are still more fan favorite rival characters to get through, but how many movies in a row can they introduce a furry foe for Sonic who inevitably turns good and helps him stop a larger threat by the end? And when the hell are we gonna see the girls?

Well, we now have our answer, and it's one I'm cautiously excited for: a whole army of Metal Sonics, and Amy!

Yes, Amy! Finally!! It's an absolute crime that we've gone three whole movies and a streaming miniseries without including the female lead of the series. I've complained about this ad nauseum (and also the fact that they cut Rouge from the story). But at least now they're finally doing something about it.

But now the question is, how will they characterize Amy? Sega's struggled with her for years, and there's a million different directions you can take her. Her one scene here has her smashing a bunch of Metal Sonics and wearing a cloak for the sake of a dramatic reveal, which gives her the vibes of a mysterious, badass action girl. This is, of course, completely different from how Sonic and Amy met in the games. What will her personality be like? She doesn't speak here, so who will they get to play her? Where did she come from? Will she even have a crush on Sonic? All of these have yet to be determined. So, like, I'm hyped to finally see Amy, a character who should've been in the movies from the start, but they could so easily end up playing it safe with an incredibly boring girlboss version of Amy who's no fun at all. We'll have to wait and see.

(My prediction: they're going to try to cast either Zendaya or Ariana as Amy.)

Metal Sonic, likewise, is very exciting, and he looks perfect. He looks just like the design from the games. But the question is: what will they do with this army of Metals? Will they be lead by one main Metal Sonic, perhaps Neo Metal Sonic, who gets to be a proper bad guy? Will they take some cues from Sonic CD, Heroes, and the OVA, or do something completely original? Where did they come from? Were they activated as a failsafe after Eggman died? Did they and Amy come from some sort of bad future, riffing on Sonic CD's time travel? Will they explore the fact that Metal wants to be the one and only Sonic? Or will they just be an army of disposable robot grunts for Sonic and friends to mow down like it's a Dynasty Warriors game, while some other villain takes center stage?

It could go so many different ways, and some prospects are more exciting than others. I mean, the Knuckles show had endless possibilities for what it could do with him, and none of the options on my bingo card were "Pachacamac's ghost tells him to help Wade win a bowling tournament." And while I'm a sicko who thinks it's funny that the Knuckles show is what it is, forgive me for keeping my hype about Amy and Metal Sonic in check here until we learn more.

Regardless of what they do, it'll still be hard to top the hype of Shadow, and it'll be hard to fill Jim Carrey's shoes for general audiences. So despite this clear statement of intent, I have no idea what the future of this film franchise holds. But regardless of what they do, I can say one thing for certain: the kids in my theater were hyped as hell for it. They popped off over Metal Sonic, and they were screaming their heads off with excitement over Amy. I heard a teenage girl on the opposite end of my row of seats say "finally!" over Amy's reveal, verbalizing my exact thoughts. She also said that this movie was "peak," though it diverged from the games, and she hoped they'd do a movie with Silver and Blaze someday.

The kids are gonna be okay.

[moonshynecybin]

hi, i hope this isn't weird but you're like a motogp scholar to me and i have a question bc i can't really find an answer; do you know of the medical specifics of marc's arm injury? like ik what happened but i haven't been able to find an article beyond oh he broke it. like is there a reason it's so bad and why he had to get multiple surgeries for it? like was it crushing nerve ends, grinding cartilidge, etc? tysm if u decide to answer

the best and most direct source for this is gonna be marc marquez all in. they’ll show you the bone scans and walk you through the rotation of how it healed and some info about the other surgeries etc but theres also a lot it leaves out about BEFORE that surgery so i'll try and help out. HUGE caveat that i’m not a doctor but the GENERAL info goes like this:

jerez, july 2020: marc fractures his right humerus after the tire of his bike hits it during a highside near the end of the race. he flies to barcelona, gets one million nails and a plate put in himself by perennial motogp bone saw doctor xavier mir, and hopes to show up the next week to race four days after surgery (also in jerez #covid)… at the time its all kinda standard if like. a lil crazy but he is honestly really flippant about the whole thing you get the sense that (like others before him) he kinda thinks what he’s doing is badass. i mean he’s postin this shit on instagram like LOOK AT MEEE

anyways so he is declared fit to ride (NO RADIAL NERVE DAMAGE YAYYY), the test for which seems to be doing decline porno pushups with his cock out. and it’s all kinda like. well this is a short, 13 round championship year, so every race counts and marc has just won four championships in a row (6 out of the last 7 years!!!) and has something fundamentally wrong in his brain. marc voice well yeah jorge lorenzo came back after collarbone surgery in 2013 and it depleted him for years but im different. im better. PLUS it’s alex’s first year in the premier class (also at factory honda which is a can of worms we shant get into) so he’s not as involved in monitoring his insane older brother as he is post-arm saga bc he has shit to do and marc hasn’t missed a GP due to injury at this point since his first bout of diplopia in 2011. hes broken his leg a few weeks before the season before and been fine. marc is marc. so he’s gonna try and race.

anyways! that doesn’t happen lol. marc DOES go out for all the practices (the death nell.) but it’s p clear that the arm is fucking busted. he stresses the injury the fuckkkk out (probably where the bone gets rotated? unsure) and then goes out for one lap of quali and can’t do it anymore, pulls out then and there and is like okay. i’ll rest on it

august 2020: now here’s where i’m like hm. because according to MARC, he is a perfect angel doing PT until he randomly opens a glass sliding door one day and the arm rebreaks (SHOULD be kinda impossible with all the hardware in him lol). i frankly suspect that he was also doing motorcross training to put more stress on it bc he mentions that his people have had to remove the wheels from his personal bikes to stop him from training before (to be fair i think this was during the shoulder rehab he was doing during the 2019/20 winter) and like. you don’t get that kinda policing from the guys who love you without some previous behaviors lmao. also literally he was posting himself doing weight training on that arm on tiktok the day before as evidenced below. i digress but the bone is broken!!! and he gets more surgery from dr. xavier mir. and oh boy does it heal wrong

so there’s not a lot of updates in this time bc marc is like. in his cave in cervera rehabbing like wow what a setback gee i sure can’t wait to be back on my bike… like i don’t think it had really set in that this was a lifelong injury yet. and unforch in december it’s revealed that the fracture is not healing, and he needs further surgery. this time he nixed dr mir and went to a specialist clinic in madrid (that’s partly why he moved there !!)

the clinic also discovered there was a previous infection in his bone, which probably halted the healing process further. it should be noted marc does not go to dr. mir for surgery anymore, which genuinely could mean absolutely nothing. he stayed in the hospital on iv antibiotics for ten days

after this and a LOT of time in the sling (12 weeks is best practice who knows what marc practice is lmao) he comes back to motogp in april of 2021 for the portuguese grand prix, with the stated goal of building up strength in his arm and evaluating where he’s at, which tells you how hard that last surgery was on him. in 2021 i think it starts to set in that this isn’t going to go away, and during this whole year and the next he’s in clear pain every time he’s on the bike AND the bike is kinda bad so its just awful hell lol. like yes he does win a few races but he cries every time and you can tell its really getting to him. this is the period that alex talks about where the pain is the worst, and marc is being mean to everyone around him, and he’s taking a lot of painkillers and complaining about having pimples/losing weight on instagram and generally having a miserable time. he calls this period "a nightmare" all the time

okay now we fast forward until 2022. marc has moved to madrid to get a girlfriend to see his bone doctor more. and the pain is NOT stopping. and the bike honestly sucks so hes not winning AND he just had a diplopia relapse so whats the POINT. and he's suffering and can feel the time in his career ticking downward like sand slipping through an hourglass and he goes to the all or nothing nuclear option and reaches out to the mayo clinic in the USA to see a specialist and see if he can do anything for him, disregarding the rest of the 2022 motogp season. and the specialist says yeah. we took a 3D scan of that bone you just spent a year of your life healing and it looks BUSTED AS HELL. truly from the stress he put on that thing while it was still healing it rotated 34 degrees and THATS part of why it hurts so much. its why he has no strength in his elbow, why he can’t brace anything with it, why his range of motion is so limited, why he can’t open a bottle of water by himself. it’s really degrading his quality of life, and most important to marc: its fucking with his riding lol.

and this doctor says well we break the bone again, rotate it back normally, and see how it goes. it could give you less pain and more ability to brake into corners. it could ALSO end your career. and marc sees the bone scans and agrees to surgery p much immediately. and he gets mayo clinic surgery in minnesota and takes hot girl instagram pics outside because of course he does. the craziest part of this article is when the surgeon says marc has "a great capacity for sacrifice"

and he gets another badass scar and thats where we are today! as to where the arm is now. well he says its isnt a normal arm but its more "uncomfy" in day to day life. i dont believe him but thats fine. like he DOES do a lot of maintenance on the arm i think thats fair to say. he has a limited range of motion. mat oxley says he'll wait until he thinks no one is watching and look like hes in pain when hes in the paddock. his gq interview w "essential things" included a massage gun and PT rubber bands. he stretches it out before races p extensively. he has a PT gurney in his living room. idk, he contradicts himself on this fairly regularly in order to suit his rhetorical needs at a given time, but im inclined to believe that hes in a LOT more pain than he lets on, he just also has more mobility to do sports things (his base level on his hierarchy of needs) and is in a lot less pain than he was in 2022. i think theres also a point that marc brings up in the documentary here that should be noted-- he emphasizes that he didnt do this to improve his quality of life (alex is the only one who mentions this actually, and HE makes a deliberate point to) but instead that he did it so he could win. i'd invite you to do with that information what you will !!!

sources: x, x, x, x, x, x

[lizardlicks]

You know that walrus vs fairies thing is a really good example of suspension of disbelief and how poor writing can immediately ruin it.

Further, it's a good example of how propaganda and indoctrination can be broken.

Check this out: if you are asked to believe something by a person who presents themselves as an authority about a subject in which you have little to no experience, you have no ground to question them on. Even if it seems fake, human brains are really good about going, "that doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about [thing] to dispute that." We have to specifically train ourselves to stop and go do our own research. And if it's a big, complicated topic which you're brand new to, that's really intimidating!

This is a feature rather than a bug of being a social species. Collectively, we store far more knowledge than anyone if us could store individually. It means that even if you have never seen a walrus in your life, you can be reasonably confident that you still "know" that they're large, tusked, aquatic mammals which tend to favor colder water and they don't really go farther inland than a couple miles.

It also means that you are primed to accept new information on a subject with which you have little to no direct experience: e.g. fairies are real, you just didn't know that until now.

Propaganda and indoctrination work because they're presented as authoritative sources on subjects that the target audience doesn't have much experience with. That also means those can be combatted by research and first hand experience. Multiple times I've seen posts from people who climbed out of the weeds of Q Anon because one of those secret info drops started making claims about subjects that the person was something of an expert in: electricity, infrastructure, medicine, engineering.

It's also why you can get so into reading a great fantasy or sci-fi novel that has otherwise stellar writing and world crafting, then suddenly get kicked right out of it again when the author, say, has a character fall into a convenient, non-magical coma for a month, or they start walking on a bad fracture after a couple of days without some fancy technological assistance. You have a body, and you might not be a doctor, but you can know enough to understand that's not how bodies generally work, and if the author has not previously established that their characters aren't human and work totally differently, a pall of doubt and frustration taints everything that comes there after.

Idk where I'm going with this. I just think it's neat! Definitely something to keep in mind when trying to effectively communicate with people, regardless of if you're trying to educate or simply entertain.

[icearts]

Nobody is talking about how Angeal and Sephiroth are exact opposites in EC and it's making me unwell so I'm gonna dump it.

Have some pictures of their 2D renders for fun

Prepare yourself, this rant is a little long (but don't worry there's visual aids)

There's more obvious tells out there, like their body language and overall postures, Angeal is generally more open and Sephiroth is generally more guarded.

However, notably, this carries into how they hold their weapons throughout all of their appearances, even in Crisis Core

Fair warning, my source is multiple Google articles so prepare for some inaccuracy and uncertainty. Feel free to correct me.

Sephiroth carries his sword in an ox guard, which has the purpose of intimidating your opponent while also having the sword protect your vital organs.

Angeal's sword is held in a plow guard, which operates a bit like a fool's guard (I actually thought it was one at first), making yourself look more open to attacks to Provoke an enemy into coming in. Unlike the fools guard, the plow guard gives you a quicker maneuverability to strike first once the opponent comes in.

This is really important for their fighting styles, as Sephiroth is quick and deadly, meanwhile Angeal (i think the game refers to his character type as a Provoke Tank) always stands somewhat in front of Seohiroth and tries to draw in hits, acting as a shield. They have the sword and shield dynamic

BUT ITS ALSO RELEVANT TO THEIR PERSONALITIES you see Sephiroth acts cold and bitter, trying to keep people at arm's length, especially raw after EC Part 1 where he and his past friends had a Not Great Time (I won't give the recap sorry it'll take too long and I'm laser focused rn). Anyways, Sephiroth, much like his stance, tries to intimidate people into staying back. He will not let himself look vulnerable to attacks.

Meanwhile, Angeal is more open and friendly, taking Sephiroth's briskness and impoliteness in stride. He's open and welcoming even when Sephiroth's defense is his offense.

They're also both well trained with swords, so they can probably infer a lot about each other's personalities through how they hold their blade. Angeal seeing Sephiroth as someone who is guarded and closed off, avoiding getting hurt by being the first to lash out. Sephiroth views Angeal as being too open and vulnerable, and may even have a presumption that, like his fool's guard, Angeal is baiting Sephiroth into getting close enough that he can attack him the second he's open. It's good shit.

Next up: the weird purple-vignetted dreams they get in EC

So there's some spooky shenanigans going on in this story. I have my own predictions as to what's going on, but for future's sake, at the time of writing this is am only 2 chapters in. I'll try to be more direct to context and then provide my future game predictions at the end. Cool? Cool.

So we know based on canon that Sephiroth's dream isn't a memory, or an event or anything like that. So by process of elimination, Angeal's is the same way. Plus

Little confirmation here that Angeal always felt unable to care for his parents, which hurts me so bad btw. Anyways, analysis time.

Sephiroth fantasizes about being cared for and reassured. He wants to know what it's like for someone to love him unconditionally, he cannot even imagine the possibility. This dream shows him exactly that, his mother making him food and telling him she's always been there for him and they've always has this. In the dream, he believes it although is confused by conflicting memories. She's momentarily able to convince him that he is cared for and loved by her. In reality, he's never met his mother (her name isn't Jenova either, but that's a story for another day).

Angeal fantasizes about being to care for others. He wants to help his village, create a strong community, care for his parents and make it so they do not have to work so hard. He wants everyone to feel safe, secure, and rested and he is willing to carry all of the work on his shoulders to the best of his ability. His dream shows him doing exactly that, which based on the falsehood of Sephiroth's dream, means it's a false memory and he never was able to care for his parents for whatever reason. Really hopeful the game will tell us soon. Maybe he did try but it wasn't enough. Maybe he was weak because they didn't have enough food. Who knows.

Also, for context, Tetsuya Nomura (FF7 director) did confirm that Angeal's father has a chronic illness and died shortly after Angeal joined SOLDIER, after having worked himself to death. So Angeal dreaming of these memories of helping his dad to support his grateful but guilty mother is likely very much influenced by a sense of grief or guilt.

Then in the next chapter, these dreams happen again.

The Banorans obviously either did not make this promise or did not act on it, seeing the state Angeal's family is in in Crisis Core, his dad having worked himself to death when he was a young recruit and his mother being in a very grief-stricken and detached state.

So this plays into how they view the world. Sephiroth longs for someone to protect him from the world he's observed to be cruel and cold. He mentions this in dialogue talking about how they world views anything different as a monster. Even SOLDIERs to which Angeal promises himself that he'll help Sephiroth see that people are not all like that.

Sephiroth is jaded and distant to protect himself, as he thinks the world will turn on him in a moment's notice. Angeal, however, holds an optimistic worldview. He believes people want to help each other and everyone wants to help each other to the best of their ability.

So they're very much opposites, but they're also exactly what each other needs. Angeal needs to feel needed and helpful, protecting people who trust and depend on him. He is friends with every SOLDIER, able to recognize them at a first glance (ironically he does not do this for Alissa but I may wait to share my theories about her). Sephiroth is guarded but secretly longs to be cared for. See where I'm going with this?

So based on how these dreams are going, they're definitely being influenced by some kind of force or another. Personally I think it's Jenova itself, as Jenova has the power to do this and to transform things into projections of loved ones in order to garner their trust (much like Kadaj does in The Kids are Alright). My prediction for where the climax of this story is gonna go is that Angeal is going to have to protect Sephiroth from these visions, and Sephiroth learns that unconditional love can come from friendship and camaraderie, not just maternity. It's gonna be great. I have entire scenes mapped out in my head about this.

They're a sword and shield, Sephiroth being quick to strike and Angeal always being there to defend. It's one of my favorite dynamics ever. Their appearances also contrast, most notably in their hair color.

They both have a resigned acceptance about the implausibility of their fantasies. Sephiroth does not have a mother to care for him, and Angeal cannot save everyone. The foil of their dynamic is so magnetic it hurts. I will scream if I see Angeal make pumpkin soup for Sephiroth in the future.

My rants getting distracted so I'll cut it off here. Merry Crisis

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I have so many shows to catch up on, but my brain has taken hold of a thought and apparently will not let it go until I write it down. And this thought has to do with BL fandom, and how it reacts to different kinds of power dynamics. And I do think it's worth talking about.

Full disclosure, I love messy power dynamics, give me the most toxic shit and I will enjoy the hell out of it, because for me fiction and reality are very distinct things, and I can compartmentalize and find the fun in the mess.

However I respect that different people have different lines for what works and what doesn't work for them, but that's why I've been finding it particularly interesting seeing where that line has been drawn lately.

Because we have two shows running concurrently right now, and although they couldn't look more different on the surface, there are some really interesting similarities.

Both shows have:

a main character who is obsessed with their love interest

who can be quite impulsive at times

who regularly ignores/overrides their love interest's stated wishes and desires (ie violations of consent)

and utilizes the power dynamic at their disposal to ensure that their desire for their love interest is fulfilled

getting them into an intimate relationship with their love interest where their wishes run the show

also, interestingly, both have book sources that make it more direct and clear that the love interest is quite into the dynamic at play. However due to the nature of visual media, this is still present but more indirectly conveyed in the series - resulting in a wider range in audience interpretation of events

Yet despite all these similarities, one of these main characters is regularly criticized for their use of power (lovingly, by a fair segment of fandom, that is true), and one is almost never criticized for their use of power.

I find this fascinating.

I am, of course, speaking of Sorn in My Stubborn

and Khanin in The Next Prince.

Let's start with talking about Sorn.

His power differentials over Jun include:

Bigger/stronger

Older/More experienced (especially sexually)

Has a position of authority over Jun at work

The work one is pretty minimal, however, Sorn can and did give Jun a bad day, but if he tried to do that again, or escalate in any way, Tai would have his ass on a plane to Vietnam first thing the next day. Jun's relationship with Tai mitigates this as a real factor.

Most of the power dynamic comes into play with two things. One, the age/experience level - Sorn attempting to manipulate Jun into believing their relationship is just about sex while acting the jealous boyfriend. Though as we get closer to wrapping up the series, Jun has gained enough experience to make this less effective (although I did see some people claiming that Sorn was entirely manipulating his way through the last episode. I disagree, but the viewpoint is out there).

And two, the one I think people have the most issue with - Sorn's physicality, and how he handles Jun.

Now let's talk about Khanin. In many ways he is the opposite of Sorn - he is younger, smaller, more delicate, more inexperienced (in Emmalian and other life navigation matters, he is likely more experienced sexually).

His power differentials over Charan can be summed up more succinctly:

He is a prince in a country ruled by monarchy

However, this is a pretty fucking massive power differential.

And Khanin has never hesitated to use it, when he feels Charan slipping away, and wants him back in his presence. He doesn't always succeed in getting his way with the king, but it never stops him from trying.

It's easy to say that Khanin would never actually harm Charan, but remember, power differentials are not just about what actions are directly taken, but what there is the potential for.

I've seen many takes concerned with Sorn's potential for harming Jun, yet pretty much none concerned with Khanin's potential for harming Charan.

Don't forget we have seen direct examples that:

A prince of Emmaly can openly and freely abuse a member of their household without repercussion

A prince of Emmaly can order their guards to abuse a member of their household without repercussion

Due process, if it's codified into law at all, can be ignored (Charan proved this himself with chaining up and beating Khanin's coach/attempted assassin)

Now, of course, both of these shows are romances, and clearly designed for both Jun and Charan to be attracted to the power dynamics at play, even when they find them frustrating.

But I do have to think - would Sorn be receiving this much anger and criticism if he was just a cute little manipulative twink? Would Khanin be excused so much if he was bigger than Charan, and a better fighter? What does this say about how we view traditionally masculine vs feminine traits, and who gets perceived as a threat vs who gets seen as innocent?

Why is power expressed physically so much more upsetting to some than power expressed politically? Khanin has the potential to do so much more harm in a few days than Sorn could accomplish in a llfetime. And yet... he does look like this.

To be clear, I am enjoying both of these shows. At the end of the day, these are romances, and we all like what we like, and don't like what we don't like. But I think there is some very juicy food for thought here, and it's worth reflecting on.

[threalcrabbysamantha]

the southern raiders & misplaced anger

Saw people being weird about the Southern Raiders episode again, and I started a long response but it was sooooooo long, I thought I should just make a separate post. 

Here’s the thing: the Southern Raiders episode is about two things - on the surface it’s about Zuko, Katara, and misplaced anger. Thematically, though, this episode is about forgiveness and negotiating where forgiveness fits into the overturning of oppressive regimes. 

I’m just here to talk surface level today. Maybe one day I’ll delve into the thematic stuff (which I think is also so well done). What’s brilliant about this episode is that even the surface level hits more than just the surface - it’s complex, filled with a lot of subtext. Recently I saw someone lament that it’s weird that this episode seems to reinforce the idea that Katara blames Zuko because of her mom’s death - but this reading of the episode really takes things at face value, and I think we need to look deeper than that. 

What always strikes me about this episode is that before it happens, the audience sort of assumes that Katara is angry at Zuko because his actions caused a lot of harm to Aang. But once we get to her confrontation with Zuko, she names the source of her anger as something different: I was the first person to trust you, she says, and you turned around and betrayed me. This is the first thing she says to Zuko that makes an impression on him likely because it feels like the first real thing she says to him about her anger, beyond just aggressively taunting.

But it’s also…ridiculous. He “betrayed” her?? They had no agreement, no alliance! He chose his sister over some random girl he had one conversation with, an action that, as smart as we’ve seen Katara be, shouldn’t have been all that surprising to her. I think the wording here is very important that she trusted him and he betrayed her, because it should set off some alarm bells in your head, the absurdity of the accusation. And it points to the truth: Katara is directing her anger at Zuko, sure, but who is she really mad at? 

It has to be herself. She trusted Zuko, like an idiot, and then Zuko almost got Aang killed. That’s why, for the first time in the show, her anger spins her so out of control. Because she’s not putting the anger in the right direction, not working through it. Anger has a very interesting role in ATLA because the show never really suggests that anger, at its core, is a bad thing, which is a radical position for a kids show in 2005. Katara is the best evidence of this, since her anger 99% of the time is a life giving force interconnected with her hopefulness; the show celebrates her anger more often than it punishes it. But in TSR, her anger is killing her because it’s different than usual. It’s tied up her guilt, and instead of feeling it and working through it, she’s just pushing it on someone else. 

It’s also telling and important that Katara starts blaming Zuko for her mom’s death. Again, this is misplaced, but it’s no wonder she would be thinking about her mom in the wake of her renewed guilt over what happened to Aang. Her mom, after all, also died because of her. 

This is the crux of the episode: Katara feels intense guilt and anger over her mother, and she places it all on Zuko because let’s be honest - she blames herself for all of this, and it all ends up tied together, her guilt her anger. I have no doubt that the person she’s most angry at is herself, unable to do anything to save her mother. And then years later she turns around and trusts ZUKO, of all people - how stupid was that? I mean just LOOK at the way that Katara had spent years turning herself into a caretaker for everyone around her. At first this just seems like a trauma response to losing her mom at a young age - but once we know that her mom died to protect Katara, died in her PLACE - it becomes clear, to me anyway, that Katara making herself into a caretaker at 14 is wrapped up in her guilt and anger over her mom. It’s a punishment, in many ways; she has to take over her mom’s role because her mom died in her place.

Perhaps the final sort of evidence for me that Katara is actually mad at herself in this episode is that Zuko, king of self-loathing, becomes her mirror, her sounding board in this episode. People like to argue that Zuko takes Katara down a “dark path,” but he seems to me more like a beacon in the midst of her turmoil. Placing him next to her, it’s a poke to the audience. Remember? Zuko said not so many episodes ago that he was mad at himself. By the time he joins the gaang, his anger has clearly been redirected at his father; it’s closer now to the anger that Katara most often feels, that hopeful, life giving anger. And allowing Zuko to guide her through this side quest is a reassurance: Katara will work through her anger too.

At the end of the episode, Katara says she’s ready to forgive Zuko. I think this is why people take at face value that she was genuinely angry with him, that her anger at him was a pure expression of her rage and hurt and not a muddied one. But I’d argue that her verbal forgiveness of him isn’t about his “betrayal,” it’s about the themes of the episode - she’ll probably never forgive Yon Rha, she says, a vow to remember the wrongs done in the past - but by forgiving Zuko, she’s saying that she’s willing to collaborate for a better Fire Nation of the future, a more just world. And now that she’s been able to confront and work through her anger at herself, she’s in a balanced place to do so.

Honestly, I think if the true source of Katara’s l anger about all this really was Zuko, they wouldn’t have the relationship that they do by the end of the show. They clearly really trust each other and care about each other by the end, and I think that if Katara really felt betrayed like she says, she would have held back her heart a little bit, keeping them at allies but never quite friends.

And ya know what? This is one of those episodes of ATLA that refuses to spoon feed you the answers, which I really like. It offers a lot of subtext for good, old fashioned analysis and argument, and it’s why it’s one of my favorite episodes - plus it’s an episode that REALLY brilliantly puts the focus on Katara and complicates her character, and I love that. 

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Savanaclaw dorm (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Leona's ideal type would be...

Someone who knows themselves and their worth. Leona might be apathetic and somewhat lazy, but he knows exactly what he's capable of. While he is willing to nudge people in the right direction, he doesn't want to deal with any dead weight.

Someone who doesn't take things at face value. He thinks having people who do what he wants are an advantage, but he doesn't think highly of any brainless followers. You are allowed to question him, disagree with him, even completely go against him. You also can disagree whenever he says he's "fine" and "just tired" whenever he's been skipping classes for too many days in a row, and there's an unopened letter from Falena on his desk.

Someone who doesn't mock his sleeping habits. Leona has some chaoric sleeping patterns, and he often doesn't sleep for a full night. If he says it's naptime, then it's naptime, and you don't get to do more than playfully argue. He'll also allow you to join him if you keep quiet enough.

Someone who doesn't belittle him. He knows he will never be enough. He knows he's just a second choice, if not less than that. He knows that he will not always be your top priority. And he doesn't believe you when you say or prove to him otherwise. But it's the first time he enjoys seeing someone try to prove him wrong.

『••✎••』

Jack's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't share his black and white way of thinking. Jack had a very rigid code of conduct, and he sticks to it religiously. While his views can't always be challenged, he likes the idea that regardless of your way of thinking you're still willing to understand him, and he's willing to do the same.

Someone who wants a serious relationship. As a wolf beastman and a witness of the dedicated love the generations before him showed, Jack has some very idealised expectations for his love life. He doesn't jump into relationships right away, and he's open with what he wants from the very beginning of your relationship. lf you stick around, he'll take it you feel the same.

Someone who is more of a realist. Jack finds enjoyment in becoming the best version of himself on all levels. Yet, he struggles to keep an open mind when he's decided to do something. Reminding him to give up on his tunnel vision from time to time and see the bigger picture brings him back to reality and makes him feel thankful for you and your ability to remind him to be a bit more real with his plans.

Someone he can care for. This is not a matter of size or personality, and while Jack knows you'll always have his back, it's very important for him to feel like he's also protecting you. Some of it does stem from his view on relationships, but he also likes caring for people. Let him brush your hair after he grooms his fur, or let him reach for that one book you need that's just out if reach.

『••✎••』

Ruggie'a ideal type would be...

Someone who saves leftovers for him. This is kind of obvious: Ruggie has some bad food anxiety, because he grew up not really knowing when his next meal would be. Someone who helps him soothe some of that anxiety will make his heart feel fluttery.

Someone that sticks with him through thick and thin. Spotted hyenas stick together in clans and have a very strict hyerarchy. However, Ruggie is also an opportunist, and you can't expect him to always stand by your side if you don't do the same. Unwavering loyalty has to be at the base of your relationship no matter what, and don't let it falter once you reach that point.

Someone who doesn't let him rely too much on his bad habits. And by that I mean mostly his pickpocketing habits. Yeah, you can't really stop him from stealing from Leona's wallet whenever he gets ahold of it, but he'll remember you made him a sweather! You gifted him a blanket! You invited him over for dinner! Okay, maybe he has himself somewhat covered already, shyehehehehe.

Someone who loves unconditionally. Everytime you show him affection without really expecting anything in return, his mind goes back to the days when he was little, and his grams told him stories about love that conquered all, love that made everything easier. He never thought of himself as worthy of that type of love.... But with you in his arms and head on his chest, then maybe... just maybe...

『••✎••』

[honeybow]

Oh I'd like to see haymitch hurt/comfort scenario. The reader was wyatt's friend and grieving she goes to haymitch to maybe share some consolation but isn't sure whether to go or not, when she does go to the victors village she ends up looking after him when he's injured himself whilst half drunk and they end up having a heartfelt conversation... idk that's all I got 😅🤗

too close for comfort

thank you for this adorable request :) i’m working on some others rn!

- she/her, set a year after the events of SOTR. warnings for past character death but that’s to be expected with THG. also warnings for likely mistakes because i have not edited this😭

You had always heard that time would heal. Maybe there was something wrong with you, but losing Wyatt didn’t feel like that. No, your grief was like an ocean. Powerful, easy to lose yourself in and constantly surging and retreating. As time stretched on by, the painful waves crashed down on your sensitive shores less often, and the ache of loss dulled. Reminders of him were not always met with stormy breakers but ripples of foam and a slight curve of your mouth as you recalled some foreign, content memory of him.

You started working in Asterids apothecary as an assistant healer. It took your mind of off what you had lost. But the tide could turn quickly and the clouds came rushing in, cold and dark and angry, drowning you in guilt or pity and, on the really bad days, fury. Rage that you didn’t know where to place.

At first, you wanted to put it with Haymitch. Leave it with him and then avoid him like the plague. But you knew that you couldn’t. The boy who sent to fight alongside your Wyatt was no enemy. Not when he came home to nothing but a charred porch. The riches of Victor’s Village meant nothing to him without his Ma and Sid.

The months after the games, you often found yourself walking in the direction of the Victor’s Village. You had questions, questions that weren’t answered by Capitol screens and interviews. Questions that only Haymitch would know the answer too.

You also knew that Haymitch was alone. He’d pushed away his friends, his family had been stolen… While Wyatt wasn’t family, he certainly came close, and some part of you screamed for the comfort of somebody who’d been taken from too.

Somehow, one day after work, you found yourself not walking home but outside the Victor’s Village. The last few warm winds of summer were blowing through District 12, and the sun had began to set over the horizon, setting the town into a deep, reddish glow.

You realised, quite abruptly, that even if you were to try and find Haymitch, you had no idea which house was his. They all looked the same, inhabited and cold with darkened windows.

It was almost peaceful.

Until you heard a pathetically quiet groan escape from the darkened alleyway between the two houses on the corner.

Cautiously, you crept over to the source of the noise, brows furrowed and fist curled defensively.

“Haymitch?” You gasp. He was barely recognisable. Threadbare linens hanging from his large frame, a bottle of something - white liquor perhaps - clutched in his grasp as he lay face down in the patchy grass.

He flopped over onto his back, revealing a deep gash across his forehead and little scratches dotting his cheeks. Fresh, by the looks of them: bright red in colour and little to no scabbing.

“(y/n)?” He slurred, voice thick with slee and drunkenness.

Immediately, you dropped to your knees beside him, removing your outer layers and putting his head to rest on top of the folded pile.

“What have you done?” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth anxiously.

Haymitch barely opens his eyes, and mumbles something incoherently.

“Are you able to get inside?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond right away, but after a moment, gives a slight nod of his head. You offer a hand - one that seems small in his large, calloused ones - and allow him to pull himself up, grasping the wall to avoid you toppling down with him.

He’s wobbly, but seemingly able to walk. He doesn’t let go of your hand, instead choosing to drag you along behind him as he kicks open the unlocked door. Haymitch collapses into the large brown sofa, letting go of your hand in the process. He swings his arm to cover is eyes and you take the chance to look around his house.

Bottles of every shade, most empty, some broken, were strewn across the scuffed, wooden floor. Stairs led up to what you assumed to be his bedroom, but the pathway was blocked by crumpled piles of discarded clothing.

“What are you doing in here?” Haymitch asked roughly, pulling himself into a sitting position.

“You, er, sort of pulled me in here?” You explained, cheeks warming at the accusation.

“Oh.” He looked down at the floor around you, suddenly shy. “Sorry ‘bout the mess.”

You shake your head quickly. “It’s fine.”

He locks eyes with you, something unfamiliar flashing through them, and it’s silent for a moment. Then, your eyes find the bloody cut on his forehead and you remember why you followed him in here at all.

“Haymitch…“ You begin, slowly moving towards him. He shifts uncomfortably. “Would you mind if I take care of that cut?”

He avoids meeting your eyes, and for a moment you doubt he’s going to say anything at all until-

“Okay.” He grunts.

Thankfully, Haymitch has white liquor in high supply, and as an apprentice healer, you always carried a selection of bandages and a salve or two in your pack.

Where Haymitch sits on the sofa, you kneel beside him, legs sinking into the plush material that nobody else in district 12 could afford. You soak a cotton ball in the white liquor and ignore Haymitch’s muttering of wasted drink.

“How did you get it? The cut.” You ask, brows furrowed unconsciously with concern. He locks his eyes onto something that you can’t see.

“Glass or something. Threw the bottle and…” He trails off as his eyes moved over to you. His eyes widen, almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. It’s the same look the miners get, especially those with little to no family, when you gently ease their ailments. It’s a look of realisation that somebody does care.

Haymitch blinks, shakes his head lightly, and forces his eyes away from yours. “Well, I guess it broke or something, and the pieces came back to get me.”

You nod, not that he can see, and use light fingers to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face. His skin is cold to the touch.

“This is going to sting, but it will kill most of the bacteria that may have gotten in there.” You explain. You begin with the biggest gash, dotting the soaked cotton along and cleaning up what blood you could, until Haymitch lets out a hiss. His hands are clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles are losing colour, and his eyes are squeezed shut.

“You- Well, sometimes the guys we have come in like to hold someone’s hand. It helps with the pain, apparently.” You offer, stomach fluttering in a way that was definitely not professional.

Wordlessly, Haymitch slips his hand into yours. When you continue to clean the cut, his grip becomes tighter, but not painful, and he doesn’t hiss again. You move onto the smaller cuts, gently wiping away the blood until you are satisfied.

“All done, Haymitch.” You inform him, voice soft from not speaking and heavy with sympathy. “I just want to put a salve on the biggest one, and maybe bandage it up.”

He nods. You wait for him to let go of your hand, but he doesn’t. You suppose you could do it with one hand?

You unscrew the lid of the calming salve with some clever manoeuvring involving your knees, elbow and teeth, glad that Haymitch’s eyes still seem to be glued to the ceiling. You apply the salve and watch him visibly relax from the relief. But you cannot see a way that you could bandage him up without both hands.

“Haymitch, I, er, sort of need both hands for this bit.” You admit. His eyes dart to yours and he immediately lets go. You pretend you don’t see him flexing his fingers and start to unwrap the bandage. Haymitch no longer stares at the ceiling, instead he watches you. He’s transfixed as you measure out the cloth, face so close to his he swore he could feel your breath against his skin. You wrap the soft material around his head, tight but not uncomfortable, and sit back to admire your handiwork.

“Thank you, (y/n).” He mutters.

You’re glad that he seems to have sobered up, until a strange look takes over his face as he frowns. “Why were you here in the first place?”

You look down at your lap, fingers locked together.

“I was a friend of Wyatt’s. More than a friend, really. He was, um, practically a brother.” You admit, eyes burning as you fight the tears from appearing. “I s’pose I just wanted closure.”

Haymitch fights the urge to pour himself another drink. Drinking was supposed to help him to forget those days his spent in the arena, to forget what he had lost, and all it had done was brought him some girl who wanted him to remember.

He couldn’t help the pang of sympathy, watching her eyes grow wet with tears as she desperately tries to hold them back.

(y/n). He barely knew her before the games, and now she was the first person he had let into his home since his arrival. The first person he had let touch him, which she had done so gently and with such care that he was almost tricked into believing that it could be okay to let somebody in again.

He supposed he could remember. Just for tonight. Just for her.

“Wyatt was so smart, (y/n), but I’m sure you know that. The oddsmaker. He beat them all, really.” Haymitch avoided your eyes as you nodded along eagerly. “And- and he was so brave. I’m not sure what the Capitol showed you, but he sacrificed himself for Lou L-Louella. Right at the start.”

You let a small smile grace your lips, of course he had. You wondered how close he and Haymitch got over training week. You hoped Wyatt had a friend.

“People look down on his family, but Wyatt wasn’t like that.” You murmur. Haymitch’s eyes snap up to meet yours.

“I know, (y/n).”

Something in the way he spoke, maybe it was the strange softness which overtook his voice or the way he looked at you- like you were the only person in the world who could understand his pain, just for that second- took over your better judgement and you shuffled closer to him on the sofa.

“It wasn’t your fault, Haymitch. I hope you don’t blame yourself for any of them.” Your voice is quieter now, soothing. You wonder whether you should pretend not to notice the tears pooling in the corner of his bloodshot eyes, but when they begin to stream down his face you cannot help yourself.

“It’s not your fault.” You repeat, dabbing at his sodden cheeks with the soft cloth of your sleeve. “I promise. The Capitol- the capitol is sick but we don’t need to talk about that right now. You just have to know that you couldn’t have done anything to help them.”

His hand that held yours before lays open on his leg, and without thinking you wrap yours around it.

“I know that it might feel like no one can understand, but if you ever want to talk about it, you come find me.” You tell him firmly. “And lay off the booze. You’re nearly 17. You don’t need to corrupt your liver just yet.”

“Sorry, it’s jus’… just hard.” He looks around, a wave of shame crossing his face, before you place a gentle hand on his cheek.

“I get it. You want to forget. But Haymitch, there’s so many things that one day you may want to remember.”

He stares at you for a moment, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and feel the tufts of spiky stubble beginning to grow across his jaw and all you can do is look at him back. You move your hand slowly, wiping a few stray tears as you you, and settle it back in your lap.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you worry he’s about to shout or kick you out, but instead his eyes soften and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, offering you a small smile. “Thank you, (y/n). For coming to find me. I think everyone else has given up- not that I blame them. And for cleaning me up.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” You shake your head defiantly. “But please come by the apothecary for a new wrapping whenever you need one.”

“Would you mind if I came by, just to see y- Well, just to talk?” He asked, suddenly far more interested in the ceiling.

“It would be my pleasure.”

[divine-crows]

10 Ways to End a Prayer Aside from Saying Amen

Note: these are just ideas based on something I struggled with when I was a newbie pagan. I by no means am saying you can't use the word "amen", I'm just trying to help those who may not want to! If something works-- then it works!

Being raised in a very hard-core Christian household I was always taught to end my prayers with the phrase "Amen", but when I realized the faith didn't really fit me... I found that using that phrase didn't really fit me either! So, what could you say in place of it? Here are some ideas! Some I came up with, some I scoured the internet to find!

"THE END"

I have two younger siblings and they both used to say 'the end' all of the time because they thought when we said 'amen' we were actually saying that. It's very direct, but I suppose it works!

"AS IT IS REQUIRED" / "AS YOU REQUIRE"

I also use this phrasing in place of "so mote it be" when I do spellwork, not because it's a bad phrase, but mainly because I'm the type of person who has to vibe with the words I utilize. (I'm sorry I'm insufferable lol). I've used it at the end of prayers and it's nice and to the point without being too crass sounding.

"AND SO IT IS"

This one always reminds me of manifestation. Kind of a "I will obtain xyz" mindset. Sometimes I use it if I'm praying for help when I'm working towards a goal.

" DONE "

The first couple of times I tried praying without using the word "amen" I got lost on what to say, so I very awkwardly just said done and went about my day. It might work for you, but it definitely felt weird for me!

"AND SO IT IS, AND IT ALWAYS WILL BE"

I've used this phrase quite a bit and I currently like it a lot. I mainly use it when I'm doing prayers to show my admiration for my deities, or when I'm doing prayers for special occasions. I came up with it while writing some poems this Beltane and it kinda just stuck!

" LET IT BE SO " / "SO BE IT" / "VERILY" / "TRULY"

According to wikipedia, these are all translations of the word amen? So I suppose you could find a way to use them!

"BLESSED BE"

I'm gonna be honest, I lurked on some reddit forums for ideas and this one came up A LOT. I've only ever really thought of this phrase as being a form of "goodbye", and I didn't realize you could end a prayer with this!

"THANK YOU"

Sometimes the best way to end something is just a simple "thanks for listening".

UTILIZING ANOTHER LANGUAGE

If you feel so inclined, finding a language that suits you and your practice and looking for a similar meaning to 'amen' might be helpful to you!

POP CULTURE / LITERATURE

This may sound weird, but I saw a few people talking about using "This is the way" from the Mandelorian, and I even saw someone who recommended using "as you wish" from the princess bride! I also saw a suggestion where someone took a phrase from an Old English text and utilized it! The world is your oyster!

So there's a teeny list to get you started! As always I'd love if people would reblog with their own ideas and alternatives!

Online sources I looked at:

[colleendoran]

I was curious how you manage to keep features consistent when you draw them? Do you use models? Is there a model for Crowley? He is very handsome.

I don't use models per se, but I sometimes keep files of photos or art that resembles the subject.

Crowley is based a bit on the French actor Alain Delon who was once considered the handsomest man in the world. He doesn't look exactly like Delon, but that is in my head when I draw him. I recall reading Neil and Mr. Pratchett once considered Peter Sellers for Crowley.

There is no reference for Aziraphale because he is entirely in my head and I can't really find anyone who looks exactly the way he does. I recall reading that Neil and Mr. Pratchett thought of Brian Dennehy at one point, but my head canon Aziraphale won. I think a Brian Dennehy Aziraphale would have been amazing, though. Anyway, he is actually kind of hard for me to draw because his facial structure is a bit outside my usual style. His face is a bit long and his eyes closer together than I normally do, and if I'm not careful, he slips away. He appears younger and more classically handsome as an angel than he does in his corporeal form, but I think he's quite fetching as a bookseller.

Michael Sheen is so perfect in this role it is really hard not to leak bits of his performance into the graphic novel edition, but I have to resist the impulse. I am not allowed to use any of the show actors as models.

I adore Michael Sheen. Who doesn't?

Adam is also a head canon character. He is a perfect young Greek God, so that's kind of drawing on a day with a Y in it for me.

The inspiration for Newt I'm keeping a secret. I submitted a number of sketches for Newt. The show Newt dug in deep and I had a hard time shaking him off.

The Them are based on kids I knew. They're in my head, I don't need any photos. They don't really look like the kinds in the show. The book version of Pepper, for example, is a freckled red-head.

Anathema is an amalgam of features that don't come from one person, which I think fits the description of the character. She's also unusual for me to draw but she's easier to draw than Aziraphale. I nail her every time.

Hastur is a caricature of the stereotypical English upper class you'd see in broadsheets 200 years ago. I have a file of pictures of Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury for Hastur. I considered making Hastur more handsome in a Duke of Hell sort of way, but I think Hastur likes to be scary. I keep thinking of Peter O'Toole when I draw Hastur, too.

I feel kind of bad basing Hastur on Lord Ashley because he was a wonderful person and I'm sure he didn't go to Hell.

Ligur is a broad caricature of Danny Devito. I obviously can't use a DeVito portrait. That would be wrong. But I can tweak from there and come up with a general idea of the face I want to use.

Beelzebub and Metatron are head canon, and don't look a thing like they do in the show. I postulate some demons prefer to look like their angelic selves, and at other times prefer to be fearsome. Crowley can look fearsome when he wants, for example. In the book, Beelzebub appears as a young man in red flames.

Shadwell was drawn from reference at the direct suggestion of Neil.

Madame Tracy is based on a certain person, but no one you would have heard of. The original source might not be flattered, but I love Madam Tracy. She's really easy to draw because she's a bit over the top. I'm sketching around her scenes right now because I don't have final approval on some things yet. So she might need some changes later.

War is head canon, very easy to draw. She's a knockout. No reference required.

Famine looks a lot like Famine in the show, actually, but that's what Famine always looked like, pretty much. Except he has the grey eyes he has in the book.

Pollution is initially described as being a forgettable white guy, but later described as looking like a romantic poet, which strikes me as being memorable. Because he's only on one page in his forgettable white guy phase, I chose not to make major changes in his appearance between those panels and later when he appears as his true self, because that's a bit more confusing than it needs to be in the graphic novel edition. He's rather glamorous as the essence of Pollution, though. No reference needed.

Dog is a dog.

While I do give every detail a lot of thought, I am sure other people have other opinions. I understand that, and hope you enjoy what I do anyway.

Thanks for your question.

I'm still a bit under the weather, so may be stepping away from the net for awhile so I can concentrate on work. I have a lot of sick time to make up.

But don't think I don't appreciate your interest in the Good Omens graphic novel adaptation. Your wonderful support is acting on me like a tonic, let me tell you.

[gabyiisart]

Deltarune; SOUL promise Theory

To start, we need to assume that, obviously, Dess IS the Knight. We see that the speech bubble of whoever is speaking on the phone is blatantly different. At the end of chapter 4 (weird route) someone talks to Kris on the phone, the way it expresses itself is clearly Carol, in a manner that's very different from what is spoken previously in the other dialogues on the phone in the normal route. The way the black bubble individual is more direct and fragmented; in my view, someone who was missing and without social interactions (Or corrupted) would have it, I am saying that the person speaking on the phone is Dess/Knight.

There's many theories to explain Dess's disappearance, that claim Kris is part of this, even being guilty. In chapter 3 we may have a clue to add even more to this statement. If this is true, then Kris definitely feels guilty about it. Debating this is not the point of this theory in question, just keep in mind that Kris is part of her disappearance yet they WANT to somehow help Dess.

At some point in the story, Kris could have found a way to connect with Dess. And I believe that the PHONE could be their main source of communication. In that regard, Kris KNOWS the knight IS Dess, and is actively working with her since then. We know that Kris has been behaving in specific ways since Chapter 1, as if they were following a plan, a linear path to something. As if they were being ordered to do so. However, I mean the line would work like this: Dess's disappearance > Kris and family falling apart + what was once is no more > Feelings of guilt > Dess/knight starts communicating via phone > Kris promises they'll help her > The promise of the soul.

We don't know exactly Dess' motivations, what she's doing, why she's doing what she does... God, we don't even know if she's ALIVE there. I at least imagine her being corrupted, and most likely dead inside. If she knows something about the prophecy and wants to go through with it, I speculate that she wanted a vessel to become the role of CAGE in the prophecy. Or she's just really upset about being alone in the dark for so long, and Kris promised her they would help... SOME of these options here.

This promise consists of Kris possessing the human soul, to follow the prophecy. Am I implying that Kris knows the prophecy? Maybe, but just maybe they just chose to accept it without knowing the means? Or perhaps, Dess just needed them to possess the human soul for some other reason greater than the prophecy itself.

Throughout chapter 4 we see that Kris is clearly able to survive without the soul in their body, taking it out a few times n' managing to go for long periods without it. Isn't Kris who seals the fountains, it is US, the soul. They DON'T need us to survive, but they NEED us to seal fountains: for the PROMISE. For Dess.

This explains to me why Kris keeps the soul in their body, even knowing that it make bad choices for them. Even knowing the choices it made for Noelle in the weird route, even knowing THE CONSEQUENCES that this brings to their life. They take the soul away for while and put it back as a relief, but want to keep it throughout the day for the PROMISE.

Okay!! So thats the first time I work on a theory like this, I kept looking for evidences and arguments, speculations to explain it- ... My posts are 90% focused on art only, but I also want to give space to theories and cool things I think.

Since it is my first one, it probably has holes and things you might not interpret the same way I do, and that's okay! I feel like I mostly forgot to fit Carol in here, but that's for the main point of the theory, which is to explain the "promise" and the soul and how they might be related.

Anyway, I really appreciate you reading this far, feel free to ask questions, discuss, debate... that's it <3