#and i absolutely will go off about those in the coming days
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Apparently there was some lil drama in Good Omens fandom again about people being deeply nervous and scared of the end of Season 3, and I wrote this in the replies of one of the asks that Neil Gaiman answered, but I feel like it is deserving of being crossposted into its own post (in a slightly expanded form) so folks actually see it.
cmere, good omens fandom, we're having an intervention. a Come To Jesus talk, if you will.
First of all, I'm literally begging the fandom to:
learn what personal boundaries are, especially around parasocial relationships with strangers. (Suggestion: When sending asks to authors you like, use "polite work email" etiquette, not "joking with a friend" etiquette. The latter comes off REAL weird sometimes, and sometimes outright mean/rude/bullying).
take a couple deep fucking breaths
embrace the philosophy of The Author's Intent Only HAS To Matter To The Author, It Does Not Have To Matter To YOU. If you do not like the author's intent, you can say "hmmmm no thanks" and write some fanfic. That's what it's for.
Friends, Romans, countrymen..... Stop trying to make Neil Gaiman responsible for your happiness. For one thing, that is an absolutely unfair and cruel burden to put on a stranger who doesn't know you. Neil is only responsible for Neil's happiness. You're responsible for your own happiness. In fact, do not rely on ANY external source to guarantee your happiness, not even very nice people like Neil, not even your significant other, not even your family members. Yes, those people might be able to help you with your happiness, but they cannot guarantee it. Expecting a third party to guarantee your happiness is how corporations exploit you, and it is the source of all media trauma. Take agency over your own joy! Don't give away your power! Plan to DIY your personal ideal ending!
Neil is not telepathic, Neil cannot know all your hopes and dreams and wishes, nor SHOULD he be expected to know them, nor does he have space to know them. He is busy with things like his own and Terry's hopes and dreams and wishes. Their hopes/dreams/wishes are just as valid and important as yours, aren't they? Yes, they are. So calm down. caaaaaaaallllllm dowwwwwn.
Yes, I love the show very much too, but at the end of the day it is just a story. And the great thing about stories is that you are empowered to retell them in a different way. It is not real, so if you end up unsatisfied by S3, then blithely impose your own reality and build your own joy. It's not like it's the End Of The World or anything (lil fandom joke there for you)
And look, if you read this and you're feeling Mad and Upset or Frustrated about it, that is a symptom that you are maybe feeling a little stung in your Media Trauma parts. I am sorry that other stories have let you down in the past, and I really sympathize that you are feeling scared about the fate of this story that really matters to you. You've invested a lot of love into it! I really understand the fear! You don't want to be hurt again, and that's super understandable and normal.
But bestie, literally the only way for you to find a story that's exactly perfect for you and that won't hurt you at all is for you to write it yourself. I know that sucks to hear, but it is the truth. If you keep pinning a hope of perfection on other people's stories, you will keep getting traumatized by the media you consume. Love other people's stories for what they ARE, not for the stories that you WANTED them to be -- the same way that we love people, you know? You have to let a person be their own person; you can't force them to be someone else. That's fucked up, so if you notice that you keep trying to do that, maybe go to therapy so you can be that Someone-Else person for yourself (or, if you can't afford therapy, read some self-help books from the library or find some good channels on Youtube who make content that might help with that (I really like JulienHimself)).
If you need a story to be something big and important for you, if you are seeking catharsis and healing from a story that matters to you and you're really scared that you won't get it, then open a Word document and start typing. You can do it. You're a human being, and you evolved to tell stories. Literally it's a species specialization. You got this. It's gonna be okay, because you're going to seize the means of production and MAKE it okay. Yes? Yes.
Good Omens S3 will be what it will be. It will be what Neil wants it to be and what Terry would have wanted it to be. Period. That IS actually the highest achievement and the most noble and admirable accomplishment that we can hope for. And hey, maybe what they want overlaps with what you want, and that will be wonderful! But that will be merely a happy coincidence. The only person who can TRULY center your wants is YOU. So stop trying to trap Neil into doing it, please, because he's busy and it's not his job, AND because your wants do matter and you deserve to have someone who can give your wants their 100% full attention (aka you. that's you. only you can do that. Not even your best friends in the world can do it. Not even your mom can do it, at least not if you're old enough to know how to read.)
It's gonna be okay. Really. Really, it is. No, stop typing the snarky melodramatic reply. This is not the time for jokes; I'm being serious. It's going to be okay. Neil Gaiman can only break your heart exactly as much as you allow him to do so. That's how art works. You have to consent in order to be affected by it, and you can withdraw your consent at any time. You're going to be okay. I promise. As long as you choose to claim your own agency and your own empowerment as an individual, then all will be well and all manner of things will be well.
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there's a lot of words in here about that one fanart that i saw of ratio having an emo phase, you're so welcome guys
for those who say my favorite is welt yang & not ratio,,,, how does it feel being wrong ( i still love welt yang SO much it makes me look stupid )
you swore you remember who veritas ratio was ! that was the guy who went to school at veritas prime on recommendation and absolutely blew through every single class that he attended. shoot, you were sure he taught a few classes himself despite being a student there. he was that unkempt guy, with the messy, slightly wavy dyed indigo hair that he clearly never brushed, the hair dye always overgrown and showing his brown roots, and the tongue piercing. he was tired looking, always having bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, with so much eyeshadow lazily slapped on for the added effect that he undoubtedly slept in for three nights in a row before he finally took a shower. and he always smelled so strongly of weed that it would make someone's eyes water a little bit just by standing around him for a minute or two.
you were sure that he slept through every single class, if he even bothered to show up, anyway. unless it was a test day, or he just wanted to show up and fuck around with the less gifted, you doubted he ever showed up. probably too busy trying to prove to his parents that he was more than his brains, of course. didn't he have a garage band with a few of his friends that went to a different school than him ? what was it called again ? ' irrational piety ' ? was that a joke on his name and pi ? and... god ? edgy, egotistical, and nerdy, exactly who he was as a person summed up short and sweet.
he was that guy who had approached you so many times in veritas prime, asking you about yourself, trying to show off. he was clumsy with it, his manner and the way he spoke made it clear that his family was filled with important people. scholars, doctors, teachers of any type. there was no doubt that genius was simply a way of living at his house, and he was determined at this time to be different.
you had to admit, it was charming in its own way. veritas wasn't your typical crowd that you would hang around with, but he was somehow still sort of down to earth in his own way, although it was silly. you thought it was cute how he bumbled over his words trying to be cool in front of you. you tried to pretend to be aloof and indifferent to his advances, but you leaned into them at the same time, too. you knew that he would listen if you told him to wash the makeup off his face. you told him it was because he didn't need it, but in reality, you were just worried about his skin back then. you weren't downright rude to him, and you found yourself laughing with him more often than you found yourself laughing at him.
you remembered when you spent that night with him in his dorm, and how weird it felt in your stomach for months when he graduated two years earlier than he was supposed to, and left you behind. you knew that he had to go do something important, you knew that was just who he was. no matter who he was going to be externally, you never had any doubt that he was going to be someone so incredibly important to the world around you, possibly to the entire cosmos. you thought that his passion for learning was going to outweigh anything else, and maybe you were right. you had lost contact with him for years, you honestly had no idea where he was now.
so who was this in front of you claiming to be doctor veritas ratio of the intelligentsia guild, and why did he have the same face as that man you knew in school ? there was a pause, a moment of recollection between the two of you, and you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words didn't come out. he looked so similar, but so different at the same time. it seemed that despite everything, he decided to keep up with the indigo hair, although he was doing a great job at keeping up with his root touchups. he probably got it done every two weeks religiously now.
" dr. ratio ? " you repeated his official title weakly, finally. you weren't surprised that he was who he was, no, that wasn't it. maybe it was just the nostalgia, coming face to face with the man who had so quickly and unwittingly became your first love, even if you never openly said it out loud to him. " you, err, decided to drop the eyeshadow, i guess ? "
in a moment, veritas' face paled, and he found himself at a loss for words. " ..yes, i did. that was a long time ago, i'm not the same person i used to be. "
" i think you're exactly the same, " you cut him off, shaking your head with a little smile on your face. " i mean, you don't have the dark eyeshadow anymore, and you smell like you shower now. you probably have those fancy baths with the bath bombs and flowers and milk to make your skin soft, am i right ? but you're still you, you know what i'm saying ? pre or post garage band. "
veritas seemed to calm down with your words, although it was clear that he wasn't happy that you still recalled that garage band that he so desperately wanted to erase from everyone's memories. and yet, he found himself chuckling softly, shaking his head. " out of all of the things i've created, i've yet to create something that entirely erases specific memories from people. how i wish i could make you forget all that you saw back then. "
" well, i remember. and i don't ever intend to forget, " you joked softly, tentatively stepping over the big question. did that night mean anything ? did any of it mean anything, actually ? sure, you can say that he's the same man, but is he really ? the man back then would've stumbled over his own feet to get you to look at him, and you found it so cute that you couldn't help but give in and fall in love with him. you'd always regretted not telling him, but here you were, with what could perhaps be a second chance just waiting on the horizon for you. if you played your cards right, if veritas wanted you to play your hand. " what happened ? "
" i grew up, " he responded, as if he had anticipated this question, something that you knew he likely had. " i couldn't just stay that way forever. people.. didn't respect me enough to hear what i was saying. "
" do you miss it ? "
" no, not really. "
you held your cards closer to your chest. that was a pretty clear answer to any of your questions so far, which might hurt if you gave yourself time to think about it, but you wouldn't. instead, you just gave him a silly little grin. " pity, i thought you were rather cute with your fake tattoos. do you still have the tongue piercing ? "
veritas paused for a moment, before opening his mouth, showing off the little ball on his tongue. " i thought about letting it close up, but decided against it. " you remembered so clearly how that piercing felt against your- now was not the moment to think about things like that.
" why do you still dye your hair ? " you asked, trying to think of something else other than his piercing at the moment. " not that i don't like the indigo. i think it suits you. "
" i believe it's just become a necessary part of my appearance. i don't think i look right with just brown hair, but that's subjective. now i have the proper schedule to keep up with care, so i make sure its always taken care of. " veritas doesn't sound awkward any more answering any of your questions. on the contrary, it looks like he's enjoying it, just a little bit. although you knew better than to mention that out loud. no matter what his appearance was, you knew the core of his personality was still the exact same. some things never change.
you felt so stuck in the past, unable to distinct this veritas from the man bumbling over his own feet so long ago. but you had to admit, veritas still made your heart beat so wildly out of your chest. you weren't sure if it was the memories, or just who he was as a person. " well, that's a lot of questions just to say that i think you look great, no matter what you wear or how you present yourself. appearances don't really matter at the end of the day. not to those who really care. "
" thank you, " veritas couldn't stop a small smile from forming on his face, and for a second you saw him again, the golden retriever of a person, hidden beneath layers. " ...would you like to catch up over coffee later ? "
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing a little bit, raising an eyebrow. " veritas, i thought you didn't like coffee ? "
" oh... well, my tastes have changed, too. " what a liar. maybe he really hasn't changed all that much at the end of the day.
— ♡ rationaliity 2024
#honkai star rail#hsr fanfic#honkai sr#dr ratio#honkai star rail x reader#x reader#hsr x reader#veritas ratio#hsr dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#drabble#ratio x reader#hsr veritas#veritas ratio x reader#veritas x reader#dr ratio hsr#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio imagines#imagines#fluff#hsr fluff#fluff imagines
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Emily Prentiss x reader with the song “Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?”.
They’re dating and an unsub takes reader (reader can be part of the BAU or not) and it’s like a switch goes off in Emily’s brain and she doesn’t hesitate to do anything to get reader back. When Emily gets reader back they see that side of Emily for the first time and is scared of her because they’ve never seen Emily like that. Bonus if unsub makes reader see what Emily does to get them back to try to make reader hate Emily.
who's afraid of little old me?
[emily prentiss x reader]
summary: Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.
She should've seen it coming.
pairing: emily prentiss x f!bau!reader
w.c: 2.9K
warnings/content: case-related violence: blood, gun, gunshot wounds, fainting; flinching; a hint towards police brutality (implied); mentions of psychopathy (implied); language; discussion about committing murder to someone; crying; insomnia; protective emily; angst; fluff.
A/N: hello anon, here's your request. sorry for the delay, I hope you like it :)
[part of “the taylor swift anthology”]
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
[requested]
[press play]
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❝ if you wanted me dead
you should've just said. ❞
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Emily.
. . .
Emily!
She woke up with a start. Hyperventilating and shortness of breath, her chest was tight like someone was pressing their hands on it. She couldn't breathe. Not until your hands were touching and comforting her in a way only you knew how to do.
Then, and only then, would she inhale and feel the air entering her lungs.
But two days ago, it wasn't like that. Two days ago, she didn't have you by her side in bed, whispering her name and making her feel safe, which was what she should be doing to you. You were the one who had been kidnapped and held hostage for a week.
Two days ago, Emily almost lost you.
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[Two days ago]
Smoke came out of the car, blurring her vision as she tried to approach the vehicle.
She had taken off her earpiece a while ago, bothered by her team's voice blaring through her ear begging for her to not move forward without backup.
Right. As if that was such an easy task for her to do. Absolutely not. You had been taken a week ago by a woman they've been chasing for two weeks. A witness. She had been right under your noses the whole time and from the moment you walked into her house to get her statement, you'd become prey to her sick games.
I should've seen it coming.
It's what echoed through Emily's brain non-stop.
I should've seen it coming.
When you're on the job, you bottle up your feelings as much as you can in order to focus on cracking the case and saving lives.
Hotch was stern and had that tough exterior that made people think twice before uttering a word, in fear of saying something wrong. He was an unexceptional Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and an even greater friend to Emily. He taught her everything she knows about how to be a good leader and taking that spot that once belonged to him for years was a tough choice. Emily didn't know how she would ever measure up to Aaron Hotchner, but she did know how to lead given her experience in London and that was a start.
Something he had told her once, about letting people in, because they were too much alike on that point.
“When those people say they care, it's usually because they do. When you're on the field, you're coworkers, they're your team. But off the field... you're allowed to let go. They're your friends, Emily. We all are.”
Hotch was trying to tell her not to compartmentalize everything. He was advising her to trust her team, her friends, because she deserved it and she wasn't all alone anymore.
She believed that.
She believed she wasn't all alone anymore the moment you walked into her life with a smile and a plate filled with delicious chocolate chip cookies made by you. That was your first day of work, the first day she saw you, the first time she heard your voice, and the first moment she believed in love at first sight.
Emily would let go when she was with you. She would be vulnerable for the first time in decades. She trusted you with her entire being.
The issue with people that bottle up their feelings, is that they're a ticking time bomb. They hold on for as much as they can, maintaining that harsh exterior and unlimited control, until that control is lost and the fire is set. It explodes. No warning. No previous announcements. It just happens.
Emily didn't know she carried so much rage inside of her until she saw bloody fingers around your neck and a gun pointed at your temple.
I should've seen it coming.
“Megan, let her go.”
Your eyes were locked to Emily's unwavering figure, you sought her eyes but she didn't meet yours, not even for a second.
Your hair was matted with blood and dirt. The blood belonged to you, you've lost count of the fights you had pulled to get out of the hell you were put in. You were most definitely concussed as well, though the headache was barely a pang in the back of your head. Adrenaline was responsible for keeping you standing until now. Once it wears out, you're certain you will collapse in exhaustion and dehydration.
“Why?” The woman whispered in your ear, causing shivers to went down your spine. Her cheek was rubbing against yours. She was asking you why she should let you go.
You know one wrong move can send a bullet straight to your brain and you didn't feel like dying tonight. Especially not in front of Emily.
You admired her professionalism on the field. She'd never deviate or hesitate, always certain about her next move. You were proud of her. Of who she became. Proud of how she let you in in her life.
Emily rarely got mad. She would lean towards annoyance and pout when something didn't work out the way she wanted. She would be the one to calm you down when you were mad, actually.
Now, holding a gun with her gaze set on Megan Gilbert, there was profound anger and determination set in her eyes.
She wouldn't look at you.
"Did you see the damage she did to my partner?" She tightened her hold on your tied hands, pulling at them causing you to wince. "Agent Prentiss, are you playing a hero or an assassin today?"
"Stop it," you hissed. You knew what she was doing and you weren't so sure Emily would hold herself back much longer.
"I think your team will call it overkill, won't they?" Megan didn't even show any sadness over the death of her brother. She wasn't capable of showing emotion. "So many bullet holes in Adrian's head... Tsc tsc tsc. Are you gonna tell them it was self-defense? That's what you all do, isn't that right?"
"Shut up!" You attempt to hit her head with the back of yours, but you barely graze it before she pulls you forward, throwing you on the floor as you groan in pain because of having landed in your right arm in an awkward position because of your tied hands.
"There it is, you have her," Megan drawled out. You have trouble turning over with both your feet and wrists tied up, but you did it. Emily is still pointing her gun at her, her ponytail slightly undone, you see sweat traveling down the side of her face, but she's unmoving, certain. "Now what, Agent Prentiss?"
She looked at you for a glimpse of a second as you fell, taking a step in front of you to make sure Megan wouldn't try anything. She wouldn't, not with her there.
"Emily." You croaked out, voice rough, begging.
The room was filled with a daunting silence. The outcome could only go two ways: Megan Gilbert successfully arrested or with a bullet wound to her head. Judging by Emily's current demeanor, you were leaning towards the latter option. You didn't want that. Not because you cared any bit for Megan, but for how that would affect Emily if she pulled that trigger.
"Em." You called her name again, trying to free yourself from your restraints. Megan had clearly lost her momentary infatuation with you after noticing Emily's reaction at seeing you hurt and she was successfully using that in her favor. Emily was her target now. Not you. Which was why she didn't let go of her gun.
Damn it, Emily. Look at me, don't do it. Don't do it.
"You have her," Megan repeated, tilting her head with her gun wavering around the room with a laugh. "But you don't really have her, do you? Not now, not anymore." Your breath was shallow and you didn't know how much more you were able to keep yourself awake. The adrenaline was starting to wear out. "Because what I did... it will haunt her forever. I left beautiful marks on her body so that she could look in the mirror and see them- see the art I've made. Which, honestly, was a favor. She wasn't that salvageable before-Fuck!"
You flinch back as the loud sound of the gunfire echoed throughout the room.
“Don't you ever, and I mean, ever—” Emily said through gritted teeth, pausing in between each word. “... talk about her again.”
You looked away as she sunk her shoe into the bullet wound on Megan's leg. A maniac laugh escaped from the woman's mouth.
“Oh, that's nice. Have I hit a nerve?”
“Emily.” You leaned back with difficulty, coldness crawling up on you. You could barely feel your legs anymore. You could barely feel anything.
Something seemed to click in Emily's mind, bringing her back to you. When she turned around, her heart sank and she felt herself immediately running towards you, calling out your name so you would give her some sort of response. Anything. Your eyes were shut, your clothes ripped and dirty, a nasty cut on your lip.
“Hey, I'm here.” Emily brushed your messy strands away from your face, her eyes analysing the number of injuries you had. Megan was still provoking her by the time the team came in through the door, groaning as they pulled her up forcefully. You looked away at her bleeding leg, earning a sound of mocking pity from her.
"You feel sorry for me, pretty thing?"
Emily turned back to glance at someone and spoke with an icy tone that made you inch away a little bit. You weren't scared of her, never. But anything caused you to flinch and god did you need to lie down and sleep, just sleep. "Get her the fuck away from here right now."
Your name was called repeatedly and you didn't understand why if you were right there. Until you understood the reason why everything was so dark and the last thing you felt was somebody holding your head before you collapsed.
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❝ the scandal was contained
the bullet had just grazed
at all costs, keep your good name
you didn't get to tell me you feel bad. ❞
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“Em.”
You asked, leaning against the wall. Arms folded across your chest. The living room carried the cold breeze from the night air, which meant that the kitchen window was open.
You know you closed it before going to bed, but the curled-up body on the couch told you who was responsible for opening the window.
“Baby,” you whispered, brushing her dark strands away from her face. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
She cracked one eye open, which made you sniffle a laugh. Then, she fluttered both of her eyes open, taking your hand that was caressing her cheek to intertwine with hers.
“I'm not sleeping.”
You raised a brow.
The corner of her lips twitched, “I can't fall asleep and I didn't want to bother you so I came down here.”
You shook your head, leaning down to kiss her forehead before standing up to close the kitchen window and then coming back.
"I told you." You perched on the edge of the sofa and she silently gave you space to come closer. You pulled your knees to your chest and squeezed next to her. Emily chuckled into your neck, wrapping her arms around your middle. "...to tell me when you couldn't sleep. I don't want you to be alone." You let out a sigh when she stayed quiet. "Em, you gotta talk to me."
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❝ is it a wonder I broke? ❞
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"I scared you."
With furrowed brows to express your confusion, you grab her hand to pull it to your chest.
"What do you mean?"
"When I found you..."
You quickly turned around to face her. "Emily-"
"You were already scared and I made it worse. It-it wasn't my intention, but the only thing I could think of was finding you to bring you to safety, which is something that I failed to do before."
"No, Emily. You didn't fail," you said softly. Your heart breaking as a tear traveled down her cheek, "that wasn't your responsibility. You had no way of knowing what she was going to do. None of us did. Em, it wasn't your fault."
She sniffled, shaking her head. "I should have known better."
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❝ then say they didn't do it to hurt me. . . but what if they did? ❞
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You cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at you. Her eyes were misty and you wanted more than anything to make her feel better. She shouldn't be crying because of you, that was the last thing you wanted.
"Listen to me," you said, thumb grazing her jaw until it reached the back of her ear. She leaned into your touch. "I'm right here, that's what matters. What happened wasn't your fault, I do not blame you, you understand that?" You kissed each of her cheeks, tasting the salty tears that were dripping down like rainfall.
You also felt the need to clarify something. "I never saw you like that," you admitted carefully. "You wouldn't listen to me and I was scared that whatever you did would affect you later. I didn't want you to do something you would regret. I wasn’t scared of you, baby."
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❝ if you wanted me dead
you should've just said.
nothing makes me feel more alive. ❞
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Emily leaned away from you and you felt as if you had been burned. She sat down, drying her tears with a shake of her head. Then, her voice echoed through the silence in the living room.
"I should have killed her. That's what keeps me up, that's what's affecting me. I should have ended there so she couldn't hurt you anymore."
"Emily." You sighed heavily, your frustration growing. You turned on your back to face the ceiling.
"She almost killed you," Emily said in disbelief. "How can you sleep when she almost-"
"But she didn't, I'm here." And who says I’m sleeping?
"But she almost did!"
"And you wanted me to live with the fact that you would have killed someone for me?" You snapped. "I wouldn't sleep soundly, I would've questioned every decision I've ever made if I had been responsible for that. You're being selfish."
Emily blinked at you, studying your face quietly before diverting her attention back to her hands on her lap. You didn't understand and as selfish as it was for her to say that, you didn't almost lose her, she almost lost you. She would have never forgiven herself if she wasn't able to find you in time or if she couldn't find you at all. Just the thought alone made her stomach churn. It would have killed her.
Emily picked at her nails, "Right."
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❝ so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street
crash the party like a record scratch:
who's afraid of little old me?
you should be. ❞
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You stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before you glanced down at her, gaze filled with sadness. "Can you please just... hold me?"
You didn't understand. But you didn't have to. Emily would do anything to protect you at all costs. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you or letting anyone hurt you. She promised herself that she would never let that happen again. She would make sure of that.
So when you asked for a hug, you were very much aware that she needed it more than you.
Your girlfriend's demeanor shifted to something softer, warmer, something you knew and needed. Not a revenge-seeking person. You didn't want revenge, you wanted to be in Emily's arms and help her get a good night's sleep for once. You wanted her to let you do that.
"I love you." She said in your neck, rubbing a hand across your arm tenderly. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner, I'm sorry you got hurt and I didn't stop it.
"Just hold me." You curled your legs around hers, bringing her body impossibly closer to yours. "I love you too, Em." It was the last thing you said before darkness enveloped you into something calmer and lovely, instead of the awful nightmares from two nights ago. You knew that you were safe in your apartment, with Emily close to you and Sergio creeping around the living room as he noticed his moms’ presence in the living room.
It was the first night since you came back home that Emily was able to sleep without jerking awake frightened, out of breath. The first moment she didn't fear almost losing you.
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❝ I am what I am cause you trained me
so who's afraid of me?
so who's afraid of little old me?
you should be.❞
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#emily prentiss one shot#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss x reader#reader insert#criminal minds#emily prentiss#criminal minds fanfiction#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fic#the taylor swift anthology#requested
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i feel like some of you are really shooting yourselves in the foot. i get it! trust me, i get it! i, well known dai hater, also have my anxieties abt da4 - and yes, even expectations abt things like where the plot is going to etc - but the teaser is TWO MINUTES LONG and i've been ripping it to shreds to get SOMETHING out of it, but the truth is that it's just not going to be indicative of the full game
the teaser trailers for dao imply that the sacred ashes quest is gonna be the huge memorable quest - and for me, they simply weren't? and how different did the actual game look to the teasers like let's be sooo real. da2 teasers hinged on the qunari invasion which was like... just one of many, many events in da2. and hawke and isabela didnt even look like that. i cant even remember seeing solas in the inquisition trailers?
the teasers aren't even for the plot, is the thing. these teasers are literally companion reveals, of course it's aimed to make the characters look cool and interesting, rather than really foreshadowing anything deep about the storylines - that's for things like tevinter nights, and the comics, and even absolution. it just feels really weird to use the thing they're using to advertise the companions for this game as a metric for the entire game plot and vibes. dao and da2 trailers were SO FUCKING INTENSE and then you get iconic lines like swooping is bad and hawke stepped in the poopy like...............
like da4 is not going to be dao. it's not going to be da2. it's not going to be dai either. all three of these games were tonally totally different from each other, and idk where the expectation is coming from that da4 will be like the other games. especially when the writing direction, as i've talked abt on this blog a few times already, is definitely changing and evolving. whether or not i personally like that direction is irrelevant to the fact it's happening.
i support the haterisms - god knows ive got my issues with it - but sometimes i just think you guys are unnecessarily hostile for weird reasons and i dont get it. "people who hate dragon age the most are people who love it" i dont think you guys like dragon age anymore, is the thing. which is fine, but i'm not obliged to tolerate it, or you. like you can just say: you liked dragon age origins. you liked dragon age 2. you maybe even like dai. and you're not interested in da4. that's fine. because da4 is not those games. i dont really care to hear abt the whinging abt how da's ruined or whatever - da hasn't been the same literally since da2, which was already a tonal shift from dao. da has been changing, and i have opinions abt the changes, but fundamentally, i am - cautiously, warily, anxiously - excited about a new game. new content. new companions. new maps. new knowledge. new narratives to chew on. aren't you?
if you're not, have you considered that you just don't like dragon age anymore? and that's fine? and you can just move on?
and idk why are you acting like a 2 min teaser is gospel for how the entire game is going to anyway? we know practically nothing, and at least try to keep that in mind when you're drawing firm conclusions abt the wholeass game based on the trailers because you literally WILL NOT KNOW. the teaser literally means nothing except: here are your companions. this is what they look like and where they're from. everything else based off the trailers is wild conjecture
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Title: Birthday Celebrations
Synopsis: You surprise Satoru with a little celebration on his birthday.
Character: Gojo Satoru x reader.
Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)
Notes: Teacher AU! Pure fluff, soft Gojo & celebrations. Some angst at the end.
The whole time, I was listening to Kim Sejeong's "If we do" & "Star blossom" because the vibe for this fic is literally based off that! Just the sweetness of them! 😸
The one thing you weren't sure about on Satoru's birthday was how you'd get out of bed without him clinging to you or waking up.
You pressed a finger to your lips as you sneaked Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara into your apartment, making sure they stayed quiet as they held the large cake box in their hands.
Megumi, carrying the box containing the fruit decorated mille crepe cake, headed straight into the kitchen to put it into the fridge for later, greeting Shoko and Suguru who'd been laying on the sofa scrolling through their phone and reading a book, respectively.
The table had a half filled medium sized card open, some colourful markers surrounding it, all the while a bouquet of fresh flowers of all kinds sat in a vase, lighting up your apartment with a hue of colours.
"All done?" You mouthed to your besties, writing in the air to imitate writing in the card.
Suguru shook his head, pointing to the three younger sorcerers who were busying themselves with setting up the extra plates to prep for the surprise, blowing balloons as quietly as possible and setting up everything else for the interior so it was more like a birthday celebration.
You gave him an 'ok' signal and urged each young sorcerer silently to write on the card first, while the teachers did the decorations in their stead.
It was Gojo Satoru's birthday today, and last night the other teachers and you had been eating and drinking together in your apartment, when Satoru decided to crash at yours for the night because he was familiar with the place and whined that he didn't want to go home.
Of course, you surrendered half of your bed to him, but beknownst to you, Suguru and Shoko also stayed over at the last minute, but took the sofa in the living room or the ground.
Normally Satoru didn't sleep much, but whenever he was at yours, he'd sleep for a longer period of time than normal, maybe even double the amount of time spent when he was at his own place. It was relaxing for him, and he would spend the night here and there to catch up on any sleep or if he just wanted to rest and not worry.
So, taking advantage of this opportunity, Shoko, Suguru and you decided to host a little birthday celebration to those who could make it, at your apartment. It was a small little thing for him to wake up to, so everyone woke up extra early (surprisingly not hungover), to assist with the preparations before Satoru woke up around 8am (for some reason he was incredibly prompt with his waking up at 8am when he slept at your place. No idea why, it just happened).
You knew he only slept an average of a few hours each night, but he always knocked out cold around 12am-1am whenever he was at yours. So he was already asleep by the time you cleaned up your apartment and prepared yourself for bed.
Needless to say, it was heartwarming to see the strongest so vulnerable in your safe space.
And it was even better when realising he chose this as his safe space to be vulnerable in because you were there. He'd say it as a joke but he's absolutely obsessed and 100% serious. And by extension, Suguru and Shoko, who would come over on frequent occasions.
"We're done with the card!" Yuuji whispered to Suguru. The taller male gave him a smile and took the card, starting to decorate it with cute little pictures he learned in secret for this day (he did it secretly at yours), and passing it to Shoko, who shoved it into the bouquet of flowers.
"Fushiguro, pass me the party hats." Kugisaki pointed to the party hats as she whispered. She'd prepped the streamers by throwing them around the place, and even created a cute little area for tea so everyone can have cake and tea together.
Wordlessly, the spiky haired male gave them to her, taking one for himself begrudgingly to wear later since he knew Gojo would annoy him to do so.
"I'm going to check on Satoru." You pointed to the direction of your bedroom, notifying the others to keep quiet as they continued their preparations.
Giving you the thumbs up, you quietly crept back into your room, double checking the time to make sure it wasn't 8am yet. It was probably around 7.30am, but since you were out of bed and Satoru liked to hug something while asleep (sometimes that being you), you wondered if that ever affected his sleep pattern.
You opened the door, looking into the darkness that was your room. The blind let only light streams of light filter through, barely illuminating it enough for you to see Satoru's silhouette in your bed.
A smile graced your lips as you closed the door behind you, sauntering over to your side of the bed, leaning down to examine his features as he slept.
He looked so calm, so relaxed and oh so pretty without his blindfold on. His white lashes touched by the barely there light source were so long and so fluffy you were tempted to touch them and see if they were real. Lips so glossy it pissed you off that you wanted to kiss them have them for yourself, and skin so smooth and soft it made you jealous because he never did anything to it.
Was this man any more perfect?
How dare he.
You gently placed your hand on top of his fluffy white locks, lightly petting his head affectionately like you would do a resting cat.
After the first couple of ones, he stirred, groaning lightly as he rolled towards you, hugging onto the doona for warmth. His eyes barely fluttered open when you continued your ministrations, but closed right away because he knew it was you. He let out a pleased hum and scooted closer to the edge of the bed, making you smile as you finally sat down on the bed.
You continued to thread your fingers through his hair, humming a light tune as he leaned into your touch, falling asleep again from the calmness of it all.
"Happy birthday, Satoru." You leaned down and pressed a light kiss on top of his head, smoothing over the area with your hand afterwards. "My favourite blue eyed giant with long legs."
"At least call me handsome on my birthday..." He mumbled, one eye half opening to look at you in the dark.
He couldn't tell if what he saw was an angel or not - with the light slowly rising in intensity, but still keeping its softness, one side of you was illuminated with that soft light, the light colours making it look dreamier and hazier than usual.
His breath hitched.
You were breathtaking.
"Sure, Mr handsome Satoru." The sound of his name leaving your lips was wonderful, and he hoped to hear it everyday to awaken him from his slumber.
Satoru only grinned, lazily flipping onto his side to face you, a heavy arm draping over your mid section as he cuddled up to you.
You only laughed at his actions, he was so clingy. But you didn't mind it, since it was a different type of clingy to what he usually was.
This type was more endearing, though you welcomed both.
You stayed in bed for a while with him, absentmindedly continuing your ministrations on his hair as he fell in and out of sleep. It wasn't until around 8am where he actually felt the need to wake up properly, stretching his long limbs over the bed as he got ready for his day.
"C'mon, let's get up." You gently patted his stomach as he laid on his back like a starfish. He tensed and sat up right away, swinging his legs over to where you were and giving you a back hug as he clung to you like a koala.
"Don't wanna." He buried his face into the back of your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried to get his daily dose of you.
You sighed, patting at his arm as you tried to get up. "Satoru..."
The slight whine in your voice made Satoru perk up as he let you go. He wanted to continue, but he didn't want to get headbutted like he did last time when the exact same thing happened.
"Ok, ok, I'm getting up." He sighed and slid off the bed, preparing himself in your connected bathroom by using all your products.
You went outside the room as he got ready, giving nods to the anticipating audience.
As Gojo opened the door to the living room, his brows raised and an 'o' formed on his lips.
"Happy Birthday!"
A chorus of happy celebrations echoed in the early morning, making Satoru completely stunned at the actions. He grinned ear to ear as he was handed the bouquet of flowers from Yuji, and everyone singing the birthday song for him.
Even though Satoru knew that everyone was there even when he was asleep, he was pleased nonetheless with the celebration. He had an inkling this wasn't the only little surprise, and later in the day the others would do the same once he started work.
It warmed his heart as he thanked everyone in an overly exaggerated manner, giving everyone a big hug or pat on the head.
He smooshed his cheek next to yours, nuzzling you like he would a pet cat, making the others laugh and tell you both to get a room.
As he got presented with the mille crepe cake he swear he could smell even in his sleep, the candle on it was somehow oddly shaped like him that he wondered if it was custom made. He made a wish he could only guard close to his heart, blowing out the candles and sharing the cake around.
This is nice, he found himself thinking. The atmosphere was so bright, it nearly blinded him. It felt surreal, almost like he was dreaming, one where he could wake up from any moment, transporting him back to a time where the world wasn't as bright.
If he didn't have what he has now, what would his life be like? Would he be the same? Being bathed in such warmth made him want to stay forever. He didn't want this to end, nor did he want to imagine a world without the people he cherished the most.
Satoru popped a piece of the crepe cake into his mouth, admiring the smiles of everyone, burning their lively images into his mind.
He hoped everyone would continue to keep their shine and warmth, especially you, who shone the brightest.
Let's stay like this a little longer.
#jjk#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru#jjk season 2#gojo jjk#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jjk satoru#jjk gojo#gojo#geto#ieri shoko#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#nobara kugisaki
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Are there any things you like about LO? Or is it all shit to you. Personally, I think it could be a great storyline with the right execution, but a lot of the stuff and plot is unnecessary (I.e. Hades being thousands of years older than Kore and making characters fall in love with people they are racist/classist towards 😨😨)
Oh there are LOADS of things that I liked and still enjoy about LO despite all the shit I've thrown at it. I love love LOVE a lot of the older art-
Like, damn, that shit is so charming! I swear I had that Tower 4 panel as my phone background for like, 2 years LOL
Rachel had a really strong understanding of shape language, composition, color theory, and expressive linework in a way that was really appealing and unique at the time, but along the way it was just lost, undoubtedly due to her taking more of a backseat in the character art process and leaving it to her assistants.
That said, there's a lot of... not so charming, too.
I think, on the one hand, there's a lot to appreciate in the old art that shouldn't be rejected as we criticize this series. At the end of the day, as much as we riff on it, many of us did love this series at one point in time, so we shouldn't cringe at what it used to make us feel or pretend like we were ever above it when we were very much lost in it for ages before it went down the tubes.
But there is a lot to be said about the effects of rose-colored glasses, and how LO was never perfect. The reality is that much of Rachel's work is exemplified by the odd beautiful thing that sticks in our memories, but when we actually go back to relive those memories, we find they're all strung together by some not so beautiful stuff that makes us go 'wait what???'
Case in point, with LO we remember beautiful compositions like this:
But then within those same episodes we get:
And it's like oh. Yikes.
Aside from the art, there was also the SA plot as well as the Act of Wrath. The SA plot felt really special to me at the time because I was someone who was once in Persephone's shoes, being pressured into sex that I wasn't ready for but wasn't capable of saying no to. I can appreciate what Rachel was trying to do with that plot, but over time it became clear that she wasn't committed to seeing that plotline through and so I kind of just dropped my expectations for it entirely.
That said, it wasn't the SA plotline that set me off. I had good faith in that one still that it would be addressed eventually. It was the Act of Wrath plotline that did me in. The premise of it was totally my cup of tea in the way of "quirky character has a dark evil backstory!" which is shit that I absolutely LOVE, but then when the "twist" happened that Eris was the one to give her wrath, that was literally when I had my almost "canon event" moment of realizing "wait... I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." And then it was just all downhill from there. The S2 finale sealed my fate LOL
All that said, as much as my brain is often defaulting to "ew! gross! bad!!!" in all honesty I do still appreciate what LO meant to be back when I still enjoyed it. It meant enough to me that I just couldn't let it the fuck go when it started to go downhill, so much so that I started making my own version of it! And that's something that sets it apart so much more from other comics I really don't like anymore (or comics I never liked to begin with) like Down to Earth, The Kiss Bet, Let's Play, etc. where I really can't even be bothered to think about them let alone talk about them to the extent I do about LO. I may be full of beans when it comes to LO, but I'd still rather be talking about it and all its failings and what it used to mean to me than about any of those other works. I loved it enough to still want it in my life and that's what Rekindled has accomplished for me.
#ask me anything#ama#anon ama#anon ask me anything#lore olympus critical#anti lore olympus#lo critical
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Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 5!
Finally, another chapter!! Back to Percy's POV~ oh I absolutely adore writing him being head over heels for Nico 💕💕
Some more internal panicking, some more flirting, and they're finally getting to know each other~~ 💕
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
You can also read it on AO3!!
~~~~~~
Percy went to the beach two days after ready to bury himself under the sand as soon as he saw Nico, and at the same time ready to show off the best surfing moves he knew.
I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar, that was what Nico had said.
Percy had been replaying that moment in his head so many times in the last fifty hours it was now indelibly engraved in his memory. He could picture it perfectly, like it was still right before his eyes - the afternoon light bathing Nico in pretty shadows, that single strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail and was falling on the side of his face, the numerous earrings on his ears shining in the sun, the way he was biting and playing with those on his lips (it must have been an habit of his, and it definitely was an image that had been driving Percy crazy since the first time he had noticed it); Percy had clearly taken him off guard, and his expression had been the prettiest mix of surprise and embarrassment.
Percy had been ready to make up some silly excuse and run away as far as possible to hide his embarrassment and cursing his stupid impulsive mind for even thinking that saying something like let me teach you how to surf to someone he barely even knew was a good idea.
And yet.
I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar.
He felt like screaming, felt like he could surf all day long even without waves if it meant Nico would look at him.
To be honest, flirting with him hadn’t really been his intention. He just wanted to talk to him, exchange more than those few words of courtesy that were needed to buy something.
He had not expected it to be this easy. Somehow, the words had come out easily, and the conversation had felt awkward but nice and natural at the same time - and maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn’t help but think Nico had enjoyed it too.
The smile on his lips had been genuine, the way he had laughed (and oh, wasn’t that the sweetest sound ever? Percy would gladly listen to it forever), talking and asking questions like he hadn’t wanted the conversation to end.
Somehow flirting had come so natural to Percy as he looked at him - the need of getting to know him, to impress him somehow, to make him smile, to make the moment last as long as possible, all mixing and tangling together; somehow, that had resulted in the filter between his brain and mouth shutting off completely.
It seemed Nico hadn’t minded too much though. Percy’s heart was playing athletics in his chest as he thought about it once again.
Calm down, he told himself, trying and failing to get a grip on his derailing thoughts. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say and said the first thing he could think of.
Okay, but did he really have to say that?
He shook his head. No need to think about it, he’d just have to go and face the consequences of his own actions.
Despite all the time spent thinking about it, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.
The beach was as hot and nice and crowded as it always was, but Percy couldn’t concentrate on how that usually made him feel, couldn’t ignore his nervousness and the way his insides were tangling and curling together out of anxiety and anticipation.
He didn’t even have Annabeth with him today - he was almost tempted to call her just to scream his struggles to her once again; she was probably tired of listening to him freak out and would tell him to simply go and talk to Nico again. Was she right? Of course she was. Did that make Percy feel any better? Not really, to be honest.
He sighed as he set everything up and got ready.
Would Nico look at him like he said he would? The simple thought made Percy shake.
He took up his surfing board, heart beating ridiculously faster than it should as he moved closer to the shore.
And then, right before getting into the water, he turned around.
Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but there he was, the boy of Percy’s dreams, looking back at him.
They were far enough from each other that Percy couldn’t see Nico’s expression clearly- maybe he had just happened to be looking that way for a moment. Percy almost expected him to simply turn around and look away like nothing had happened.
But then, Nico raised a hand and waved lightly. Percy’s heart did a flip as he waved back, a smile growing on his lips.
For a handful of seconds, there was no one else on that beach but them.
Then Nico’s attention was called back by a customer, and with one last glance at Percy, he went back to work. Percy stood there, eyes still fixed on him and smile still in place, for a little longer.
Maybe he’ll be really looking at me, after all.
He was definitely ready to show off everything he could do.
~~~
They weren’t friends exactly, probably not even acquaintances. But something had shifted, and Percy could feel it every time he went to the beach - it wasn’t just him, wasn’t just the anticipation he felt or the way he spent most of his time thinking about the next time he would see and get to talk to Nico again; no, it was in the way they waved at each other in greeting when Percy got there (or sometimes when Nico’s shift started later and Percy got on the beach before him), or the way Nico was always the one who took Percy’s order at the kiosk, the way he smiled at Percy like he was happy to see him, the way Percy let himself linger there for as long as he could and Nico would never shy away from small talks.
It was all the little things piling up that made Percy’s heart run around like crazy, and he couldn’t hold back the smile coming up on his lips every time - he just hoped it didn't look as enamored and lovestruck as he felt.
His crush was growing every day, every moment. Percy could feel himself fall harder and harder with every new word exchanged, every new smile and little laugh, every new thing he learned about Nico. He was probably going a little crazy with how much he liked that boy.
He went to the beach as often as he could, even just to get a glimpse of him and for those fast and precious moments they got to share.
Today he hadn’t planned on going, but he had finished earlier at work and his feet had brought him there almost without him realizing. It was later than usual, and he didn’t even have anything with him. Yet there he was, sitting at his usual place at the kiosk, trying his best not to make it obvious that he was looking at Nico, busy with another customer.
“Nico will take your order in a moment”, the other guy, the blond one who also worked there, told him.
“It’s okay, I can wait”, Percy replied. It took him a moment to realize that it was weird that the guy hadn’t simply taken his order himself. He worked there too, right? And he didn’t look busy, he was just there chatting with an elf-looking Mexican guy.
Percy didn’t know if he was feeling more grateful or more embarrassed at this - was it really that obvious that he was there for Nico? At the same time though, the fact that apparently it was a thing, that Percy was Nico’s own customer, that the other guy didn’t even question it, like he knew it - well, it was making Percy feel stupidly giggly and hopeful.
“Ehi, hi Percy”, Nico greeted him, and Percy finally got out of his own head, but only to feel himself fall once again as he met Nico’s eyes and pretty smile. “The usual?”
“Hi, Nico”, he said. His throat felt dry, his heart lost a beat or two. “Yeah, thanks”.
Oh he was too pretty. Annabeth and Grover had laughed at him when Percy had spent a whole evening telling them about every little detail of Nico’s features, how he must have been an angel - because there was no way a human being could be that incredibly and otherworldly beautiful, right?
No, you’re just completely gone for that guy, Seaweed brain, Annabeth had said.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen you having this big of a crush, Percy, had been Grover’s contribution.
And they were both absolutely right. Percy really didn’t remember the last time he had been so head over heels for someone, couldn’t even remember the last time he had had a crush at all. But Nico - god, Nico was making him feel everything all at once.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today”, Nico said, and Percy’s brain short-circuited for a moment. So Nico thought about seeing him? Did he look forward to see him just as much as Percy did?
“The weather isn’t so good and it looks like the waves aren’t big enough to surf”, Nico kept going.
Percy needed a second to find his words, too enraptured by the shy yet curious look in Nico’s eyes. He had such a nice voice, too, Percy loved listening to him talk.
“Uhm, yeah, I actually wasn’t planning on coming today”, he managed to say in the end. “But I finished earlier at work, so I thought I’d pass by and get my favorite drink”.
Nico smiled softly at that, and Percy counted it as a victory.
“You’re literally the only one who orders this”, Nico said.
“So it’s like a special drink just for me?”
Flirting came to him way too easy when he talked to Nico. Maybe it was the need to see the light blush tinting his cheeks. He blushed so easily, and it was always so evident on his pale skin. Percy loved it.
This time too, Nico rolled his eyes at him, but the blush was there. It was starting to become Percy’s new favorite color.
“Where do you work at?”, Nico asked after a moment. Percy didn’t mind too much that he had ignored his previous flirting. It was endearing, really, that Nico was so shy.
“Oh I teach kids how to swim at the pool near here”.
Somehow, that seemed to hit Nico, because he stopped to look at Percy with such surprise and awe in his eyes that it was Percy’s turn to blush in embarrassment. He was looking at him like Percy had just told him he went around saving the world on a daily basis.
“That’s so…”, Nico started, then stopped, cleared his throat and looked away. “That’s cute. You look like you’d be good with kids”.
“You think so?”, Percy smiled.
He liked sharing things with Nico, liked telling him about himself, cherished it when Nico told him something about himself.
“Do you like working here?”
“I do, I guess. It’s a good summer job”, Nico said, meeting Percy’s eyes. “And it’s allowing me to meet some interesting people”.
Percy's heart started to beat ridiculously loud in his chest. “Yeah? You don’t look like you like meeting people a lot though”.
That made Nico’s laugh. Percy sort of wanted to drown in the sound.
“I don’t, usually”, Nico said. “But I guess I can make an exception for some people”.
Percy wanted to kiss him so bad. Wanted to take him on a date and make him smile and laugh the whole time, wanted to hold his hand as he told him about himself, wanted to share everything he could with him, wanted to card his fingers through his dark silky hair and pull him closer and closer to him until he could press his lips to his and feel the rings under his teeth.
“Some special people?”
Another laugh, and that beautiful shade of pink on his cheeks. “Yeah, special”.
Oh Percy was so far gone for him.
#percy jackson#nico di angelo#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians#percico#nicercy#pernico#percy x nico#pjo#i had actually written another chapter before this then realize that i needed them to get to know them a little more#before that#so i have the next chap almost completly written already#and the chap after that! i cant wait to write it!!! i have it planned it out already#our disaster boys are getting there#oh but how i love writing them pining for each other#my fics#goth/surfer percico
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Following my Gambit post, I love love love the way Rogue's powers are handled in X-Men Evolution. Like Gambit, Rogue tends to have a certain set of 'roles' when she's in a show/movie: she's focused on inner torment about her powers, on being a Spicy Southern Belle, or her romantic connections. Which is to say, her stories are usually about emotions and relationships, which is fine, I love those parts of her as much the rest. But if she's not fighting, her powers are only really viewed through a lens of how she feels about them, and how they impact her ability to connect with others.
And here's X-Men Evolution, fully leaning into the fact that Rogue’s power is one of the most dangerous in the entire show. I love the s3 ep "Self-Possessed" so much because it takes the brakes off her, and really commits to the idea that stacking powers is catastrophic when you consider she can wield multiple omega-level powersets at the same time. Her main limitation is that she doesn't want other personalities in her head, she limits her power usage because she just doesn't like it, and yeah, totally fair, but Rogue could absolutely wake up one day, go through the mansion and decide to be an omega squared. X-Men Evolution is about teenagers who are still figuring out their abilities, even at the end of the series when they're a year (two years?) older. By the finale, they have more control and training, but they are absolutely still growing into adulthood and have not reached full potential.
Which is why I think "Self-Possessed" is such a fascinating look at Rogue's powers. Every iteration of Rogue imposes a time limit on her absorption, meaning that any powers she absorbs will only stay with her for a short time. But in that episode, when she's succumbing to all those personalities in her head, her time limit stops existing. She can access powers for months, maybe even years after the initial absorption. Mystique's powers couldn't have given Rogue that ability; the only way Rogue could do such a thing is if that potential already exists inside of her. This implies that when she absorbs a power, that power stays inside her as long as the personality does, and her "time limit" is just a matter of control, or lack thereof.
This seems to be backed up by the s3 finale, where Mesmero and Mystique mind control Rogue to gather powers, and Rogue proceeds to SWEEP the X-Men, Brotherhood, Acolytes, and Magneto in less than 24 hours. By the end of it, she seems fully capable of using any and all their powers at will, ignoring any sort of time limit. Mesmero can mind control others, but he can't enhance them. He cannot give someone powers they don't already possess. The only reason Rogue could do all that is because she was already capable of it, and the fact Mesmero could mind control this out of her seems to imply that Rogue's limitations are entirely self-imposed, mostly mental/emotional, or maybe a lack of experience. (Similar to the season four finale where Rogue seems to use Leech’s power better than he does, probably just because he’s a little kid and she’s an adolescent so has a better grasp on powers in general)
Like, no wonder Mystique and Destiny wanted her powers. No wonder Magneto was so thrilled to have her in the ranks in the first season. No wonder so many people in the world want to use her; she is the all-mutant, the living multi tool that can gather multitudes of power in one place and then combine them. The only reason she isn't considered omega-level is pure technicality; in terms of destruction she could actually lay down, Rogue is absolutely as dangerous as plenty of omegas. The requirements for an omega are 1) infinite power, and 2) limitless power. Rogue has the first one; she can stack an infinite number of powers. But she lacks the second; all her powers must come from the outside, and she cannot generate them herself. But if she has access to multiple omega powersets like she does in Self-Possessed, that technicality kind of stops mattering once the punches actually start flying.
Which all leads into Rogue's main emotional journey through X-Men Evolution, which is perhaps my favorite she's ever had: being used. That's why she was adopted. That's why she was raised being unable to touch, being lied to by both her moms. That's why she was taken into the Brotherhood, and it's why Mystique will never leave her alone. Extra fascinating because after the reveal in season one that Mystique is Kurt's mother, Mystique leaves Kurt completely alone for the rest of the series, while simultaneously stalking and manipulating Rogue. Why the difference? Because Kurt is not a useful tool. Not compared to Rogue. And I think Rogue sees that difference, which makes for such a juicy dynamic when Kurt is so interested in actually loving Mystique, for insisting that Rogue should forgive their mother and 'let hatred go,' because he genuinely thinks that anyone can be saved with enough love. Whereas Rogue, who has seen Mystique's 'love' up close for her whole life, is desperately trying to get away from that, with good reason.
One of the reasons I wish we’d had more seasons, or at least more episodes in the last season, is how seamlessly Rogue’s feelings about her powers flowed into her feelings around being used, her feelings around family, and being dehumanized to the point of mind-wipe by her own mother. Yes she’s sad about the no-touching thing, but that’s nothing compared to being seen as a literal object in the eyes of others, because her powers are utterly perfect—for someone else to use. Which flows into questions of bodily autonomy, of who her powers “belong to” vs. who they “should belong to.” Especially considering that Rogue is only at full power when she loses control/is under someone else’s control, which could lead someone to conclude, “Well of course Rogue should be under someone’s control, preferably mine. She’s so powerful when someone else is controlling her, and so weak when she controls herself. It’s honestly such a waste for Rogue to be her own person when she could be so much more. She needs to be used to reach her full potential.”
In a perfect world, we’d have way more X-Men Evo than we got. More seasons, more episodes, more time to explore whatever the hell Rogue had going on. And if I was allowed to pick, I would have loved to see Rogue with a character arc of self-ownership. In particular, it would be so cool to see her powers develop to the point she can have a “Self-Possessed” crisis and control it, fully aware of herself and all the powers she holds. I’d love to see her use those powers for her own benefit, on purpose, independent of both her mother and the X-Men. I’d love to see a self-serving Rogue in the XMenEvo. Not necessarily evil (though it would be a fascinating villain arc) but a Rogue who chooses selfishness as an act of rebellion. Who can use all those powers simultaneously, consciously, and disobediently. Vengeance, maybe? Or something that heightens humans’ fear of mutants? I’d love to see Rogue become inconvenient to the X-Men, at the very least, either physically or philosophically. Certainly nothing so dire as the Phoenix saga, but something that uses her powers to their fullest extent. (Damn could you imagine Rogue as the Horseman of Death if this went in the opposite direction. How fucking overpowered would Death!Rogue be, how the hell would the X-Men deal with that)
Anyways. Fanfiction is the folklore of the now or whatever. And XMenEvo was already a crazy high school AU anyway.
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a/n: me n my best baby @earth222abi were talking about this on tiktok and I js had to form a post 🧘🏻♀️
warnings: none, headcanons rly
this man can and will come home with random strays at any given moment. dogs, cats, you name it, hes brought it back to his canal boat. including a "hamster" (it was a fucking mouse)
cat distribution system LOVES him. "don' mind these, they jus' a couple o' squatters" and its 4 cats sleeping on his floor, table, bed and worktop living their best lives. if he doesn't see a "regular" as he calls them, on a boring patrol night he'll search for them in usual places because he's so worried.
I think he permanently adopted a stray blue staffy & he just annoys TF outta that poor dawg cuz he loves it. (like this)
can, will & does send you those tiktoks he gets on his fyp with 2 likes of some old tosser on their 2014 android and says "litch me". also sends those tiktoks where its like "you belong to me😈😈" and he fully is just an absolute dickhead with annoying you. (abi damn near killed me for sending those tiktoks)
BUT if you do it back n call this man kitten or sum fucking shit he WILL stare at you sooooo fed up. "only funny when I do it." alr double standards.
carves your initials into his guitar.
fully steals feminine hygiene products for you if you're afab, binders & chest tape if ur ftm, what u want, this man gets. fuck big businesses and that.
loves when you two wander around town at xmas time when theres all those little stalls up.
he pokes ur waist. everytime he sees an opportunity, done. snorts to himself when you yelp.
....he loves a good bubble bath I'm sorry. being spiderman means having achey muscles all the live long day so if you run him a nice bubble bath this man will love you for the rest of his damn life. (even though he would either way.)
on that subject, he too gangly for a shower, the shower doesn't go high enough so he either hunches or uses his webs to put it higher (and that pisses u off if ur shorter) and his knobbly ahh knees poke out the bath sometimes but he too busy in his world to gaf. (you're sat on the toilet watching him and just giggling ur ass off)
he loves sewing. his "nanny" definitely taught him when he was just a lil geezer which is how he has all his patches and badges on his clothes, he put them on himself! only sews in the way his grandmother showed him to honour her, and refuses point blank to do it any other way, even if they're easier/sturdier. trust in great mrs brown.
loves picking you literal weeds out the ground with some daisies and presenting them like they're a 10/10 bouquet with a FAT lopsided grin on his face.
if you yawn infront of him I feel like sometimes he'll just blow air into your mouth briefly before carrying on with his business. idk. he's just got such annoying older brother energy and I feel like that's js what he'd do.
thanks for coming to my ted talk!
© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
#chatting ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹#⋆₊˚⊹dollies posts#hobie spiderverse#hobie brown spider punk#hobie brown x reader#hobie smut#hobie x reader#hobie brown smut#hobie brown#hobie brown headcanons#hobie brown across the spiderverse#hobie brown thought
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Some nsfw-questions cause i think Killer is damn hot 😋🔥. What does turn him on the most in bed? Does he have any kinks? Compared with Kid is he more into romantic Sex ?
Love me a good excuse to think about Killer in bed (like it's not already on my mind 24/7)
I think a lot of people think of Killer and Kid both as tops, but personally I disagree. I saw a documentary once about guys with a kink for getting the shit beat out of them, and I think they'd both be 100% down with that. A lot of bdsm kinks for subs comes from the need to let go of their power, there's like documentaries and stuff about how often business men with a lot of power and responsibility in their daily life like to be beaten and controlled in the bedroom cos it takes that power away and forces them to relax.
I think Kil would be more of a switch, 100% down to give over his power but also an immensely skilled top. I think he'd enjoy a bit of biting, definitely hair pulling, and absolutely eating you out till you're a squirming overstimulated mess. He'd be far more interested in getting you off as many times as possible than getting himself off, but he's certainly not going to say no to some deep throating. I think he'd be good at reading your mood though and knowing when it calls for a more gentle approach, soft love making till you're whining underneath him instead of the usual rough fuck. He wouldn't be big into public sex, but he'd be thrilled if you had a mask kink and he would absolutely be down for more adventurous roleplay like non-con roleplay if that's what you want, using his mask to his advantage. Also shibari, either as the rope bunny or as the dom, either way is fun for him.
Kid however is a totally different story. On the surface he'd be into rough fucks and absolutely watching your throat buldge with his cock, more on the principle of keeping up his tough guy act, but when you take a joke too far one day and realise he likes being controlled it's all over for his topping days. I reblogged someone else's headcannon the other day that he likes getting punched in bed and I 100% agree, he wants a strong partner whose gonna fuck him up in every way possible. He's not gonna go out of his way to get you off, but if you take the reigns and order him to hes gonna be on his knees without a second thought. Romantic sex though? 'The fuck you mean railing you till your eyes roll ain't romantic?' This man doesn't have a single clue how to be soft or gentle in bed. He'd be a rope bunny for sure, use those seastone cuffs on him, whip him with a horse crop till the skin on his ass breaks, peg him with your biggest strap and call him a good boy, he wants you to fuck 👏 him 👏 up 👏
#getting so many of these asks recently that im gonna start taggin them so i can masterlist link them!#please keep them coming i love them#one piece smut#killer one piece#massacre soldier killer#killer x reader#kid pirates#kid x reader#one piece eustass#eustass kid#ask kil headcannon
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Trust Deposit
[Keigo Takami x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: His sudden presence and lack of enthusiasm has left you in a state of not only confusion, but also major concern.
WC: 1142
Category: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Established!Relationship
Oddly enough, this is the first time I have ever written for MHA (technically, on this blog, it’s the first of everything). How interesting🧐
『••✎••』
You didn’t know how to react when you saw those familiar pair of wings outside of your small apartment’s patio. The odd part wasn't that he was here, but it was the fact that he wasn’t even interested in going inside.
His back was turned, staring out into the city lights. And from the way he leaned against the railings, his head slumped forward; you could tell he wasn’t in the mood for talking. Hell, he probably didn't even want to be here.
So why was he?
Your chest heaved with every breath you took, and you didn’t even realize that you were inching towards the door until the breeze of the cold night bit at your skin. Your eyes narrowed, and you quickly went inside to grab a jacket, then stepped out.
And even with the loud, quite possibly obnoxious slam of the door, he didn't bother to move his head and acknowledge your presence. His wings remained stiff, and his shoulders rose up and down. You could only presume it was exhaustion since he was probably out on patrol for hours.
And that meant he would most likely leave soon if his actions were anything to go by.
Your brows furrowed, and you walked over to him.
He didn’t look at you, and his gaze was fixated on the bustling city. You could sense the unease radiating off of him, and it made you frown.
He looked... defeated.
It was a look you’d hate to see. Especially when he’s always seemed to look on the bright side of things, even if they were the slightest bit grim. It was something that had always caught your eye about him. He was like a ray of light, even in the darkest of situations.
Optimistic, as he’d say.
But now, that ray of light had momentarily gone MIA. Jeez, to make it even worse, he looked exactly like Endeavor. That thought alone was enough to make your frown deepen.
You leaned against the railings next to him, and you couldn't help but feel slightly offended at the lack of response he gave you. He didn’t even give a single glance or even a small wave of acknowledgment.
It hurt, you wouldn’t lie. But you didn’t say anything. You just stared out into the city, just like him, and hoped he would notice your presence.
The wind picked up, and the cool breeze brushed through his messy, blonde locks. The moonlight bounced off of him, and it made him seem even more tired than he already was. He looked paler, too.
Had he always looked this sickly?
The silence was killing you, and it felt suffocating. It wasn't like him to not have anything to say, and the quiet was almost foreign. You had to say something.
You glanced at him and sighed.
"Commission?" You asked quietly, your voice low but loud enough for him to hear.
His jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists. The first acknowledgment he gave, and you could only assume it was a sign that you were correct since, regardless of your question, he didn’t respond.
So, you hummed in response and continued to stare out at the city. And truth be told, you should really do this more often. The view was magnificent; the lights from the cars gave off the impression of twinkling stars.
You smiled.
"I should really come out here more often," you started. "But given the last time I decided to lean over the railings, I think it'd be a bad idea."
You were sneaky, and it was your best way of trying to cheer him up. It was the story of how you two met. A story where you accidentally leaned over the broken railings one day and almost ended up a splatter on the streets below.
Of course, when his fine ass came swooping down to save you, you were absolutely flabbergasted. He was, too, as a matter of fact, but for different reasons.
You fell in love with his presence, and he fell for your… well, your chicken nugget necklace.
Yeah, he was weird like that. Unfortunately, you ended up losing that particular chain and the chicken nugget pendant after a few weeks of wearing it. But that didn't stop him from coming around to your place, hoping for the real thing.
But, anyway, back to the present.
You expected him to smile or maybe give a laugh or a snicker. Hell, a groan was something you could've dealt with.
But no, instead, he was as silent as the grave.
He didn’t even seem to care or even want to remember. And it hurt because you really loved that day.
It was a fond memory, and it was the start of everything.
Maybe that was why he was ignoring it, and maybe that was why he was acting so out of character.
Maybe, just maybe, he was here to end things.
You frowned, and you could feel your stomach churn at the thought. He wouldn’t do that, right? After all these years?
Surely not…
Ugh, why were you like this? Of course, he wouldn’t do that. There had to be another reason. It’s been too long for him to have gotten tired, and he wasn't that type of person.
Right?
"Um—"
"Stop with that," he interrupted, and you could feel your heart drop.
"I—" You were cut off yet again.
"Birdie, I can feel your heart rate rising from here," he said, and the nickname almost made you cry. "It's not that. It's never been that.”
Damn. He was a little too perceptive, but you guessed that came with being a hero. Then again, there was also the factor that you were extremely predictable. It was why you always lost to him when playing any card games.
"Oh." That was all you could muster.
He sighed, and he finally, finally turned his head towards you. You couldn't read his face, and you hated it. You were always so easy to read, but you couldn't even get a single glimpse of what was going on in his head.
Even when you knew he was hiding something, all you could scramble up were assumptions due to his single-word answers. It was frustrating, and you couldn’t stand not knowing.
This time was no different.
"Do you trust me?"
You didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
His wings fluttered, and he smiled. But it wasn't the usual bright, warm, and friendly smile. No, it was more of a sad, pained smile.
It was forced.
"Thank you," he said.
Then, before you could even say another word, he had jumped over the railings and was already gliding away.
Your brows furrowed, and you leaned further into the railing. You were sure whatever he was feeling was transferred to you because all you felt was a tight, painful ache in your chest.
So much for a one-on-one chat, huh?
#keigo takami#hawks#keigo takami x reader#hawks x reader#mha hawks#mha keigo takami#keigo takami x you#keigo takami x y/n#bnha hawks#bnha keigo#keigo takami/reader#mha#mha x reader#bnha#bnha x reader#hawks x you#hawks x y/n#hawks mha#hawks bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia x you#boku no hero academia x reader#hawks/reader#hurt/no comfort#writer#writers#pro hero hawks#my hero academia fanfiction
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i only read tumblr once a day because i [try] to stay sane so only just caught up with the art discourse, which I do have some bits n shit I want to add: a bit fasile for one but, dont you as an artist have upkeep and resource needs to produce? even if its just like...computer, tablet and necessities to continue existence because art takes time to make, those are real, and cost money. "art" in an absolute sense can be made for free with minimal time through just thinking, but like, a webcomic that is a physical thing made of electronic patterns and hosted on a server, takes time and takes stuff. "Webcomics" isnt a free infinitely repeating resource, and you are more than a machine to create webcomic, and none of us are infinite as a resource! at worst, art hits public domain eventually. that said even from that place of survival in capitalistic society it DOES make sense to at least have free public facing art as PROMOTION even if its just idk downtime sketches, doodles, memes, fanart etc so like im not 100% disagreeing yknow, and I am not and artists cant be a paying consumer my/their own art, art has to exist for the self too, the self that isnt a "paying class", or i just start making marvel movies and then its time to find my cool wet hole in the dirt and express my creative individuality like im a mathmatician of statistical analysis of fluid dynamics.
now that im awake i was going to answer these point by point, but this kind of flies past my point that making art exclusively for those who pay is abysmal and treating your audience like they're thieves is a poisonous and off-putting response to one's perceived "loss of income" (which is not even theft because the item being "stolen" can be reproduced infinitely. im talking about like a digital image like a comic page and not a physical item where there's limited copies lol). people either want to pay you or they dont; you can't force people to pay you by making access to your work harder, worse, more inconvenient, and more degrading to your audience. you can't induce artificial scarcity and be a good person.
like yeah obviously art production takes money. that's why most artists work desk jobs instead of trying to make it a solo venture and just expecting the world around them to pick up their slack. i didn't come out of a lotus blossom with a tablet ready to go, i worked desk jobs from age 15-24 in order to have enough savings to cushion myself if need be and pay for base supplies. i use tablets and items gifted/sold to me at a steep discount by my friends. i lived really poor in order to have the life i wanted. and i really loved it lol. i still think of that time so fondly.
once the comic is produced and posted, it is free for my audience to look at and the reproduction costs of the finished image is 0 dollars. it can be copied and reposted freely without charge. it costs me basically nothing to host. the production costs are currently covered by patreon donations. if they were no longer covered by patreon donations i would get a desk job instead of making my choice to go into the financially unsuccessful field of the arts my audience's personal problem to solve. if i don't make things people want to buy, that's my problem and not my audience's.
yeah, it would suck to have to stop doing this because its no longer financially viable (it is really financially hard right now; the state of the world around us is not conductive to the patreon life), but i wasn't entitled to it anyway. i get to make art for a living bc i have an audience that permits me to. why would i start treating them like dogshit or lying about value of my work to squeeze extra money out of them after what they gifted me?
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I wrote this as a drabble a few nights ago and the SaF discord server coaxed me to post it here so a little scene of my headcanon about how Chimera lovebombed Owen early on.
Owen had lost track of the time that had passed, countless surgeries followed by half-concious recoveries certainly had that affect on people, and he was no exception. *Especially not in the sorry state he was in.* But he'd been rescued from that hellhole of a holding cell the Soviets had held him in a while ago now if the steadily diminishing number of bandages on his body was any indication. Regardless though, the pain persisted. A throbbing pain that had settled deep within his bones and pulsed through him in irregular beats. Some days were certainly worse than others, and he was grateful for the lighter days.
*Today however, was not one of those days.* He hadn't even made an attempt to cover up the groan that slipped its way out as he slowly woke back up from another dreamless slumber. Gentle beeping and whirring of machines surrounding him doing nothing to soothe the throbbing deep in his skull, nor the way it pounded through his cracked ribs and thundered through his splintered spine and shattered thighs. The pain echoed through every bone in his body, but those points made their protests louder than anything he'd known prior to his fall.
"Agent Carvour? Everything alright in here?" *Oh right, the nurse.* Owen groaned again, and they rushed through the door into the odd little room he'd been kept in. "Oh dear, another bad day is it?" Owen tried to nod, he really did, but all it did was amplify the drumming in his head and he winced with a loud hiss. "I know you've been adamant about it, but if its bothering you so much let us help you."
*There's the angle.* *"No."* Owen knew how it'd go, it was well researched in his field. The way medications, especially the stronger pain medications they wanted to administer, would make anyone loose lipped faster than a torrential downpour. No, he’d kept his mouth sealed for this long, he was *not* going to risk losing control now. He still didn’t know why this, *Chimera* group had decided he was worth risking a rescue for, what they could possibly be after that he was important enough to pour countless resources into mending his every injury and wound without a single corner cut. There was too much at stake to risk giving them anything until he knew more, and his damned migraine was not helping matters in the slightest.
“I understand your apprehension.” They said it so plainly, so calmly, Owen almost missed it. But they continued regardless if he did or not. “But you’re safe here.” They smiled, Owen more so heard it than saw it, his vision still blurred behind a wall of pain, too much to process anything he saw anyways. “We can make a deal, you don't have to talk, just let me give you something, not a full dose but *something* to help tide you over. You can ask all the questions if you’d like. I will answer whatever you ask to the best of my ability and with every bit of truth I know. I swear it.”
Owen kept his expression neutral, and by neutral that meant knitting his brow in pain as he considered this. There must have been a trap. Some kind of loophole he was too delirious to find that they could exploit, throwing him further into a spiral of muddled thoughts until he was nothing more than slop they could squeeze for whatever they wanted. The Soviets had tried and failed to do it by making his injuries so much worse, barely keeping him on the living side of death's knife-thin edge. Now they would try to do it with substances he had no chance of fighting off in his current stage.
They sighed, not out of frustration, not out of annoyance, not out of confusion, and not out of impatience. They sighed out of *pity,* a remorseful tone that he hadn’t an idea where it’d come from. “So talking scares you huh? Smart, but there's no need for that fear.” Owen stayed absolutely still, waiting to see what they would do. “How about a different deal then, we’ve got a library of all kinds of literary works, pick a title, any title you can think of, and I’ll get it. Let me give you something to take the edge off your agony and I’ll read it to you, no conversation. I’ll even promise to stop you if you try to interrupt with anything.”
*“‘m not a child.”* He mumbled, his own scratchy voice grating on his ears the more he used it.
“You aren’t. I’m simply offering because trying to read anything on your own is only going to make that migraine of yours worse. I’d not even offer at all if it wasn’t important to ensure you don't have an adverse reaction to the first few doses. Don’t need you developing an allergic reaction and making things worse on yourself, after all.”
Owen stayed silent, considering their offer. It wasn’t a terrible option, it scared him to no end but, the ache in his body had grown stronger by the minute, and from their previous encounters this nurse hadn’t given him reason to believe they’d lie to him about his treatments. It unnerved him, sure, but they’d always been truthful with their statements, and kept to the promises they’d made as far as he could tell. It certainly couldn’t *hurt* to give this option a shot (if he was in a better state of mine he might have chuckled at that prospect), and it might bring him that much closer to being able to function as his own person again.
“Alright, um-” He paused, suddenly sheepish at the way his memory evaded him faster than fog at the first sign of morning light, “I seem to have forgotten your name. I’m sorry-”
“Angel.” They smiled, and Owen could just barely focus on the glint of their teeth in his circus mirror vision. “You can call me Angel, everyone does. Now, what would you like to read?”
#spies are forever#owen carvour#saf#tin can bros#ryo rambles#i just realized people outside the server have no clue about the Angel lore. hehe#:)
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admittedly i’m still displeased with the overall event. the lore was good but the execution was terrible, for one thing, and even though the lore was good on its own it really didn’t tell us shit about diluc’s outfit which is what the event was supposed to be about.
i appreciate how much it expanded upon his rapport with so many people within mondstadt, but as someone who muses him, i would have rather he be given a proper spotlight than mostly just shown off through other people’s perspective. jean and barbara were two of the three main characters of their skin event and it was a much more extensive story; we spent an entire lantern rite running around with keqing before seeing hers and ningguang was fairly involved in that event too and also had her skin shown off in her hangout; fischl’s was tied to one of the best character development arc we’ve gotten so far. as for diluc they just... told us it was an outfit from back in the days. and had him put it on randomly so he’d be wearing it during our last conversation.
it just feels like a Lot was teased without ever paying off where he’s concerned - they pointed out in the program that the outfit didnt have his vision on it but never actually explained that in game, they let us know about his leaving mondstadt without ever saying exactly what he was doing or how long he was gone, whatever the heck it is he was doing on stormbearer mountains that he said he would tell us about later was never followed up, even that invitation to dinner i feel we were cheated out of (which is especially annoying because the ending we got was so underwhelming).
i really really hope this was all meant to be a set-up for a future story where they’ll be able to dive further into everything that was at stake and everyone’s ties to everyone else by involving more characters more thoroughly, otherwise i will have felt pretty letdown by this event. and unfortunately, even that wouldn’t make up for my biggest personal gripe - the fact that every other character who has a skin so far also had a rendered cutscene with them wearing it.
and i can’t not mention the fact that the two biggest lore bombs in the event are very specifically about kaeya. kaeya is one of my topmost favorite characters so there’s a part of me that’s extremely hyped about it, but the other part of me that loves and relates to diluc that already has to put up with 90% of the fanbase hating on him/only giving him any consideration because of his ties to kaeya... is really fed up.
#⌜ ooc ⌟#negative#kinda#that all being said i am really really pleased with the lore and the connections to other characters this established for diluc#and i absolutely will go off about those in the coming days#i just really needed to vent about the negatives first#because it is overall a very bittersweet result and i needed to acknowledge that
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saw a tiktok about a schizophrenic man committing a violent hate crime and a lot of the comments were fearmongering about schizophrenic people in general, not the specific situation. and it just got me thinking about how schizophrenia is treated in media and the news, how you only hear about schizophrenic people when they’ve committed a violent crime, how society says these people need to be locked up in mental institutions for their own good, and like. i feel like people don’t understand that bodily autonomy applies to everybody. yes, even truly awful people. and truly awful people who happen to be mentally ill are not awful because of their mental illness, the two are totally unrelated. obviously, someone who’s committing violent hate crimes should not be allowed to continue to do those crimes. but just because a person poses a threat, the way to neutralize that threat is not involuntary commitment. because when you start to shove the “bad” crazy people in mental institutions against their will, that opens the gates for all mentally ill people to be institutionalized.
#the word of chuck#ableism tw#like. as someone who has schizophrenic friends#and who might very well be schizophrenic themselves (i’ve definitely got something undiagnosed)#it’s scary to see how quickly people will jump on the involuntary commitment bandwagon#every single time i’ve been committed it’s been voluntary#bc i’ve known that if i didn’t go voluntarily they’d involuntarily commit me#and i know that when my chart says voluntary commitment i get treated more like a human being#tiktok is evil obviously but there’s this one user w bpd who talks abt her experiences with involuntary commitment#and the shit she says is absolutely bone chilling#like. involuntary commitment cases are treated as so inhuman. the commitment is the tip of the iceberg#when it comes to their bodily autonomy being violated#did you know that if you get admitted for a 72 hour stay weekend days don’t count towards those 72 hours?#so if your times up and you want to leave you can’t. bc the doctors have the weekend off#sorry abt the essay in the tags. involuntary commitments are treated so terribly and it’s scary to see ppl advocating for it#edit: the tiktok user who talks about his experiences in the psych ward is @yamumsatryeduns and uses he/they pronouns#or possibly they/he. they have it in a different order on his bio than they do at the top of his page
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In an alternate universe I selfship with Dream from The Sand.man because seriously. Cannot overstate how much that comic and his character arc resonates with me on a personal and I love him. I do not think I can properly articulate it right now, just know that I'm feral. 👍
#anomaly.txt#crush tag#all i'm saying is don't be surprised if he ends up on the f/o list one day#i'm talking about the comic version because i just. tv dream is pretty yeah but for some reason i just#have 0 attraction to him? idk it's just 80's/90's style goth dream that gets me#i'd hang out with tv adaptation dream but platonically#unrelated but since lu.cifer started as a spin off from the sand.man#i really need to give those comics a try one day#i've seen a bit of the tv adaptation from family watching it but apparently that's pretty much completely different#lu.cifer handing over the key to hell to dream pretty much like 'yeah i quit being the devil. enjoy the chaos that comes with getting this.'#was absolutely iconic#you go my guy. have fun playing the piano
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