#but probably memory. memory is fucking outstanding

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Gable (Campaign: Skyjacks):

7ft tall sulver-haired thembo of a fallen angel. was the literal sword of god until they killed him! reasons slightly unclear but probably sure to forbidden queer love! super caring for their friends. has one friend they have known for hundreds of years who they HATE but are bound to by the red string of fate. their sword is a part of them, they can sheathe it into a tattoo. they start out indistinct at the edges but as they have continued on through the campaign they have become more and more distinct. they became a flaming engine of justice to kill their friends shitheaded older brother who was following him. they have learned enough necromancy to allow other fallen angels to die, even though they typically cannot. they fly giant birds in to battle.

7ft tall beefcake wielding a sword as tall as they are. vengeful sweetheart

Imagine now: a fallen angel with beautiful gray hair and very big muscles. Now imagine them with a 9 ft sword. Now imagine them as a helmsperson of a pirate ship in a flowy deep-v pirate shirt. Now imagine they're dumb as a fucking rock. And finally, imagine that they killed god. Here, you have made Gable Skyjacks: sexiest podcast character of all time.

7ft tall nonbinary/genderfluid thembo fallen angel sky pirate who wields a buster sword. silvergrey hair with black/gold streaks as they regain feathers/memories of before their fall. back is covered in tattoos that hide the scars of their shredded off wings. killed God. toxic exes with lucifer. they are the keeper of several giant war birds who occasionally crave human flesh. they enjoy getting rowdy/smoking rope with their boys. they collect rocks that they think are neat. When anyone admits they are attracted to them, Gable trips over their words and absolutely swaglessly ends up sounding stupider and sexier by the end of the conversation; the will they/won't they and teasing they dish out to these (un?)lucky few is palpable. Sometimes the buster sword is on fire. They are immortal, they are cringe, they are trying to atone because they believe they are the reason the world is ruined.

Hector Hu is a priest. Gable killed God. They are not the same.

I want to thank my fellow Gable nominators for doing an outstanding job showcasing the beauty and gracelessness that is Gable Skyjacks. Fight hard and take flight my friends 💪😇

Nicky Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

One armed half-demon man with a sword (also a Dedicated, Involved, Loving Father). (Specifically campaign 2, where he is an adult)

[veliseraptor]

April Reading Recap

Stars of Chaos vol. 2 by Priest. I'm not quite grabbed by this one yet. I'm not not enjoying it, but the main relationship doesn't quite have me compelled, and the politics aren't quite sharp enough to get me either. I'm not totally sure I'll keep buying the published volumes, at least not at this time, and just read the rest online to see how I end up feeling about it as a whole before making the financial commitment.

Medea by Eilish Quin. Listen, I'm a Medea apologist, but I'm a Medea apologist who is very much of the "she absolutely did all the awful things she's accused of and she is valid" and the author here is going "she did all the awful things she's accused of but it's not as bad as you thought it was because she didn't mean it!" and I'm just. I'm not mad, just disappointed (again). I was so hoping for a book that would do something interesting with a Medea retelling but I probably should've known better than to think it'd be this one. Why, you may ask, do I keep reading myth retellings about my problematic faves when all I do is complain about them? Hope springs eternal, I guess.

She Who Became the Sun and He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan. Exceptional. Might be my favorite books I read in April. I'd already read She Who Became the Sun back when it was first published and knew I'd enjoyed it (was rereading to refresh my memory for the sequel), but I felt like I enjoyed it more the second time around, and I might've liked He Who Drowned the World even more than its predecessor. If you're looking for works of just-barely fantasy with delightfully fucked up queer characters, come get 'em here. I won't say most of them are happy (they're not) or that things end well (they don't), but boy is it good reading.

The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling. Decent horror but not particularly outstanding, in my opinion. I liked The Luminous Dead more.

Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee. I continue to struggle with novellas. This was a perfectly good novella but it felt like it could've been a stronger short story, which I guess is better than the other way I usually come out of novellas, which is "this was a fine novella but it should've been a novel."

The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler. I really liked this. It has more of a thriller-ish edge than I expected, but for all that I think it's a thoughtful book with some interesting things to say, and I feel like it's one I want more people to read so I can talk to them about it. It's set in a sort-of spooky, near-future dystopia, but a lot of it is about, like, the nature of thought and consciousness. Anyway, I found myself compelled.

Islands of Abandonment: Nation Rebounding in the Post-Human Landscape by Cal Flyn. I found myself reading this thinking a lot about The World Without Us, a book I read many years ago and would kind of like to reread, and which I think I liked more than this (at least in my memory). I was hoping for more analysis than I got from this book, which was beautifully written but more nature/travel writing than science. One thing I did appreciate was the attention paid to the human cost of the "abandoned" places examined in this book - the pain that abandonment often signifies, and the trauma it indicates, in spite of the beauty that may come after.

Emperor of Rome: Ruling the Ancient Roman World by Mary Beard. I really liked the way that Beard chose to do this one - namely, taking it by theme rather than by emperor, and breaking down different areas of the emperor's life over time rather than trying to tell a linear narrative. It also let her do some of the better "skeptical" reading of sources that I've read in a popular book on ancient history, where she was actually digging into the "rather than what this says about what this person may or may not have actually done, what does it say about expectations, beliefs, and tropes that people had" kind of reading. And after some of the other popular histories of Rome I've read, thank god for that.

Metamorphoses by Ovid, trans. Stephanie McCarter. Continuing on with my "reading new translations (by women!) of classical epics" run (started with The Odyssey, The Iliad is on my list). It was fun to reread Ovid! As usual one of my favorite parts of this was reading the translator's note and introduction, and I wanted about 500% more of that through the text (tell me about the assonance you're preserving in the Latin!) but did get some of (thanks for the information on the penis/pubic hair puns!). Overall would recommend as a good translation of Ovid that very much does not flinch away from - and makes/keeps appropriately uncomfortable - the sexual assault.

Dark Rise by C.S. Pacat. Slightly more YA than I usually like, but I enjoyed it! I was a little :\ about it for a while, very much feeling the YA cliches of it all, but the late hour twist got me interested again, and I will be picking up the sequel. Did miss the full balls-to-the-wall iddy joy of Captive Prince, though, since I probably wouldn't have picked this book up without the author recognition.

Subversive Sequels in the Bible: How Biblical Stories Mine and Undermine Each Other by Judy Klitsner. I really liked this one, particularly for its commentary comparing and contrasting Eve, and the other women of Genesis, with later Biblical narratives. I don't know how much I buy all of her arguments when it comes to intentionality of all of the comparisons she's drawing, but it certainly makes interesting food for thought, and a good sampler for me of what literary-based Biblical scholarship can look like (and an indication that I'm interested in trying more of it).

Use of Weapons by Iain M. Banks. I read most of my way through this book continuing to really appreciate what Banks does with the Culture novels and planning to continue on reading the next one, but not enjoying this specific one as much as I did The Player of Games in particular, and then I got to the very end of it and went "hang on what the fuck???" but in a decidedly good way. And I'm still kind of thinking about That even though it's been a while, which I think is a positive. Anyway, I don't think I'd recommend this as a starting place for anyone to read the Culture novels, or as a must read, but it was on the upper end of a three star rating.

Juniper & Thorn by Ava Reid. I wanted this to be more gothic horror and less romance and it ended up being more romance and less gothic horror, was my feeling. Not necessarily the book's fault, but if anyone else is eyeing it wondering...now you know.

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik. I really enjoyed this one! I was kind of skeptical going in - I'm not a big magic school person, as a rule, and the more I feel like something is hyped to me the more I tend to drag my heels about it - but Naomi Novik is really good at what she does and she clearly had a lot of fun here. It's tropey for sure, but I enjoy the narrative voice (very important, in a first person narration), and the action moves along with what I felt was pretty good momentum. The other thing I was worried about - that it'd feel too much like this was just ~commentary on/against Harry Potter~ without saying anything for itself - didn't materialize for me. I'm looking forward to reading the next ones.

The Monster Theory Reader ed. by Jeffrey Andrew Weinstock. I'm so rusty on my academic/theory reading and I felt it reading this collection, some of which was definitely better than others. Kristeva's essay on abjection was particularly rough as far as "I'm reading words and I know all the words but something about the order they're going in is just not making sense to me." Overall...it was a decent primer? There were a few very interesting essays in there; my favorite might've been the one on tanuki in modernizing Japan's folklore, but there were a couple on "monstrous" bodies that made me wish I had someone to discuss them with. That's probably my main problem reading academic works these days: I want a seminar to dissect them afterwards and I just don't have that.

The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man by Abraham Joshua Heschel. I'm trying to read something Jewish on Shabbat now and finally getting around to reading some Heschel after years of meaning to. I thought "oh, I'll start easy with something nice and short" - yeah, no, Heschel's got a very particular style of writing and there's a lot of theological depth packed into a very short volume. I'm looking forward to reading The Prophets, though.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun vol. 5 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. I think we're juuuuust about caught up now with the official translation to where I started reading the machine translation, so I'm very excited for (a) things I don't remember as well (b) reading it not in machine translation. Also looking forward to everything about what happened with Nangong Liu and Nangong Xu making more sense this time around, on account of not reading it machine translated, because I didn't follow it so well on my first read and I feel like I'm already doing better. (Though that could also be because it's a reread, no matter how different an experience of one.) Still feel real bad for Ye Wangxi, on so many levels. Mark that one down for 'characters I'd love to know more about what they're thinking.'

The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang. I really enjoyed S.L. Huang's other work with the Cas Russell series, and I liked this book a little less than those. It felt like an almost winner, for me. Certainly I read through it quickly enough, and I can say I enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I'd give it an enthusiastic recommendation. It falls somewhere in the middle between "a fun action/adventure story" and "something I can sink my teeth into" in a way that didn't quite satisfy either itch. Still, it did make me curious about the source material, which is one of the Chinese classics (Water Margin) and I might go and find a place to read that, if I can; if I'd had that background going in I wonder if my experience of this work would've been more edifying.

--

I'm currently rereading A Memory Called Empire so I can (finally) read the sequel (A Desolation Called Peace); I also checked out from the library the next two Scholomance books so I'll be reading those. I'm going to try to throw some nonfiction somewhere in there (maybe The Genius of Birds by Jennifer Ackerman, which I also have out from the library, but maybe something else), but I've still got the sequel to The First Sister sitting on my shelf (also from the library).

Outside of that I've got no big reading plans - I'm working my way through some of the unreads on my own shelf (despite what it may look like, about the library books) and eyeing The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky or a reread of Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett so I can continue that series.

[cuubism]

Hey, i hope i'm not being super annoying by asking this but do you ever plan on finishing 'In Waking Dreams'?

This fic is probably one of my favorites of you (along with 'some kinda benefits', 'The Apocalypse Is Nigh!', 'my eyes are up here' .... honestly if i go throught all my bookmarks we would be here all day, your writting is just that incredible aksjka) and it has lived in my head for so long, i love how hob's initial reaction to the news of "you have a husband" is simply oh fuck yeah, i love the whole set up of the marriage just happening because dream said yeah sure why not, what could ever come from this? and then slowly actually falling in love with hob, i love the tenderness that which you write them with when they actually reunite and just, i really love the whole fic 😅

So yeah, i hope you find in you that Dante Alighieri spark of fanfiction inspiration to pick it up again it one day, is a really good story ^w^

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

i am, yes! i've been ever so slowly working on it

i often find that after the climax is the hardest part of a story to write, especially if it's a really obvious and delineated climax like 'hob rescues dream' - before that you always have the climax as a north star, if you start getting lost you just remember that you're supposed to be going in that direction, but afterwards it's like... where does it go now? there's a lot to wrap up and you want to try to do it organically, not just like... infodump all the answers to the outstanding questions XD so i'm slowly poking away at that.

this is making me think that i should probably just write the very last scene of the fic (don't know what that is yet) and then i'll have a new north star...

but here's a small bit from the beginning of the chapter

--

Hob’s home was in a bit of a state, thanks to all the crazed research and rescuing he had been doing. Books and ledgers left open, a mug of tea still cooling on his desk, jumper thrown across the couch instead of put away. He tried to remember, as he led his husband to bed, hand low on his back to guide him, if their home in dreams had ever been in such disarray. Home was a bit of a nebulous concept, in their dreams. They had had many different houses over the years, the details of which were hard to remember upon waking. Really, home was the man beside him, an inexorable force that drew Hob back, across landscapes and time, from cottage to manor to palace. King, he thought, it coming to him again, the way dreams appeared and disappeared as context called them. The ragged, slumped form of the creature beside him, leaning into Hob’s side for support. Hob remembered taking his hand, pressing his lips to those fragile bones. My king, he’d murmured, at his side, in bed, like he was in a fairytale. A king would have a kingdom. A kingdom of dreams? His king of dreams turned to him as they stopped by the bed. Now that the rush of power, of darkness, had bled off him, he looked haggard, swamped in Hob’s coat, which was still all he was wearing. Strange, so strange to be here, in Hob’s so ordinary bedroom. Not the half-remembered palace of a hazy dream-life, but just here, standing by the bed. Hob, and his dream-walker. He had come to him, hadn’t he? Once, or so he’d said. Hob didn’t remember the specific instance of someone ringing his doorbell and not being there, but he could imagine it. God, if he’d been just a moment sooner in opening the door. If his Dream had been just a moment sooner in knocking. “Hob,” said his husband, in his solemn, sleepy voice. Hob had missed that voice. The dreams he had had of him, the ones that were memories, were never quite the same, never quite right. He said nothing else, like Hob’s name was all he had wanted to say. So Hob said it back—“my Dream”—and the softening of his husband’s face was worth everything.

[siriusblack-the-third]

ok, any headcanons on james that compliment the ones you've done for sirius?

i absolutely loved those and i'm really curious about james

HELL YEAH LETS GO

ADHD. This dude has to be moving, fidgeting, doing something, always. It tires him, and he sleeps very soundly for a full seven hours. Doesn't wake up even for earthquakes (Sirius once did a mini earthquake spell on the dorm room floor in the middle of the night as a prank. It did not wake him.)

Wakes up at an ungodly fucking hour. He doesn't own an alarm clock (it has no effect on him), but his internal clock is set to wake him up at exactly 4:30 in the morning for quidditch practice. He is done with jogging through the entire castle, half an hour of yoga, and an hour of quidditch before 7 A.M. rolls around. Sirius calls him "a demon from muggle hell" for it.

The only one who can keep up with Sirius' intelligence. He is scarily smart, but because most of his time is invested in quidditch and pranks, nobody realises just how smart he is until the results are handed out and he's right there next to Sirius on the top of the rankings. Both of them are always exchanging ranks 1 and 2 on overall performance. It annoys Snape and Lily to no end, because those two are always exchanging ranks 3 and 4 on the list.

The definition of Reckless. If Sirius hadn't stopped him, he would probably have turned the castle to rubble in less than five minutes. This was the exact reason why people (who were in the know) were surprised when Sirius was the one that sent Snape to Moony. They had all thought it would be James' fault.

A fucking bookworm. My dude reads literally everything from mystery to romance to encyclopaedias to research papers to fucking dictionaries of different languages. Even when he doesn't speak the language, the weirdo (affectionate and derogatory).

Indian. Specifically, from Pune city, Maharashtra.

About languages, he's learnt a lot of them. The order of learning of languages, starting from his native tongue, is thus: Marathi, Sanskrit, Hindi, English, Ancient Greek, Tamil, French and Latin. He learnt the first six at home, and French and Latin from Sirius. He's good with languages.

Photographic memory. The reason he never has to study, and also the fact that he understands everything he reads on the first try.

He and Sirius both have twelve OWLs and eight NEWTs. They have Outstandings in all of them.

My dude has the widest, largest doe eyes possible. The only people who can withstand them for more than two minutes are his parents and Sirius.

Bharatanatyam dancer. Has his Visharad certificate, and genuinely enjoys dancing. Gives at least three evenings per week for dance practice to keep up his muscle memory.

Doesn't actually hate Slytherins. Neither does Sirius. Both of them have several friends from the house of Serpents, they just hate the ones that actively use Dark Magic on muggleborns, and Snape and his gang are a part of that.

Lmao the sheer arrogance in him, oh my fucking Gods—

Doesn't give a shit about the rules set by other people (unless they're set by his parents), but has a set of rules for himself that he strictly follows. No one can tell what these rules are, but he has them and he follows them. At the top of that list, there is "never betray your loved ones". He followed that one until his death.

Nevertheless, he will break every single rule. Every. Single. Rule. For Sirius. For Sirius, he will do anything, from taking care of him when he's sick to burning the world for him.

The Hat would actually have put him in Slytherin, except he had no ambitions except to cause chaos at the tiny age of eleven years. Otherwise, he's almost a perfect fit for Slytherin— determined, strong willed, cunning enough to pull difficult pranks, resourceful (because how else you gon plan epic pranks?)

He went to Gryffindor for three reasons and three reasons only: Sirius was there, he had no particular ambition, he wanted to be with Sirius.

M O T H E R H E N. Such a mother hen, but only for a select few people (the marauders, Lily, and Harry). He doesn't give a fuck about anyone else, but these are my people and if I weren't here they would literally get themselves killed put of household related incompetence how are you still alive by the Gods—

Follows ancient Vedic religion (because I do hehe)

Very very panromantic. Demisexual.

Had a crush on Sirius for a short while in fourth year, and then on Frank Longbottom in sixth year after he had one (1) glance at the older boy dressed in full Auror robes.

Loved his mother so much omg he was such a Mama's boyyy

Gave shit to Remus for looking like a professor at the tender age of fifteen, but wanted to become a Transfiguration Professor himself. He was also excellent at Potions (another reason Snape hated him) but decided ultimately that Transfiguration was his calling

Was in his last year of his Transfiguration Mastery on Samhain of 81.

Died with a Killing Curse on his lips. He was ready to cast it wandlessly, for his wife and child. Died with a Killing Curse on his lips.

[the-wayside]

I'm clearing out my fic rambles of things that I wrote that might have been things but probably won't be (at least for a while). I just need them out of my brain space so I can focus on the important stuff.

the memories of you, t/m?, 2k. Older Porsche/younger Kinn. A prologue I guess? It traces to the point at which the hypothetical story would start.

(Heads up, there is ten years' difference and they meet when Kinn is thirteen. nothing underage happens.)

Porsche has worked for the Theerapanyakul family a long time and even amongst all of those years, his loyalty has only ever been to the one who picked him up off the street, bloodied and broken in too many places, and told him he would help him take care of his brother. P’Chan had been his hero in more ways than one, but unfortunately, it’s been almost as many years since Porsche stood at the bottom of P'Chan's open grave and said his goodbyes to his mentor, replacing him as the head of security. Now pushing thirty-seven, he’s got the greys and the body aches that come with the life he’s lived.

He also knows that in and amongst all of it, he was little Kinn Theerapanyakul’s first love. Introduced at twenty-three to his charge’s younger brother, a pale little thirteen-year-old with braces and a bright smile, Porsche found him endearing in his openness. He never said a single word to Porsche for months but his eyes would always light up when Porsche walked into a room and he was distinctly quiet during their training sessions when Porsche would peel off his sweaty vest and wipe his face with it. More than once, Kinn had disappeared with a flushed face and an awkward boner passed off as needing to finish his homework. Porsche left him be because he was harmless. His crush made him interested in things he was not natural to, like gunmanship and knife fighting.

“You need to be as good a shot with your left as your right, Kinn,” Porsche bit his tongue not to call him, Little Dragon, his pet name for Kinn when they first met. Small, but fierce.

Kinn wasn’t a natural, but he was outstanding. And puberty finally blessed him. It cleared up his skin, and with his braces off, his winning smile became blinding. He was still a little scrawny as a teen so Porsche frequently had Nya, the compound chef, cook him up some more chicken and eggs which he tried to push off.

“I can’t eat anymore,” Kinn groused as he rubbed his little belly full of food.

“You need protein to rebuild your muscles. Can’t get strong on rice and salad,” Porsche reminded him.

“You don’t even eat this much,” Kinn whined and Porsche smiled.

“I’m not built to be a heavyweight. You could pack on some serious muscle if you wanted to, Little Dragon.”

Kinn flushes, “Don’t call me that.”

“Why, ‘cause it’s cute?” Porsche teased him, “You are the littlest dragon. Maybe one day you'll grow—”

“I’m grown,” Kinn volleyed with conviction and Porsche stopped because there was an iron to it that he’s never heard from Kinn.

“Are you now?” Porsche replied to ease the tension. “You won’t mind if we do ten proper rounds tomorrow then.”

Kinn exhaled because he’s bought himself a world of pain, but Porsche ruffled his hair, “Don’t be in such a hurry, Kinn, growing up is the worst thing you can do.”

Porsche had watched him grow and become a young man and he was proud. It was an awful day when Khun Korn had set his succession on Kinn’s still too slim shoulders. He smiled like he was grateful and honored, but Porsche watched as the light dimmed from his eyes. He was only eighteen. His ‘adulthood’ had coincided with a changing of mantles. No longer was Tankhun the heir to the family business, it was now Kinn, with all the knowledge that Porsche taught him and then some.

“Did you know?” Kinn breathed as they stood out on his suite balcony.

“I did,” Porsche told him honestly. He knew his work would transition from one heir to the other.

“Fuck you,” Kinn spat at him and Porsche accepted it with a shrug.

Kinn pushed him and said it again and Porsche did nothing to defend himself.

Porsche grabbed still thin wrists and pulled Kinn into him for the hug he didn’t get from his father, “You’re going to be okay; I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

Kinn sobbed for the life he would never have only once, buried in Porsche’s shoulder as he stroked his hair and rubbed his back.

Porsche cupped Kinn’s face when he emerged, puffy and red, and rubbed his cheeks with his thumbs, “There you go.”

Kinn has big brown eyes under thick eyebrows and they made Porsche smile and he stroked his hand over Kinn’s face. The air shifts and Kinn’s hands gripped tighter on Porsche’s waist.

Porsche was about to stop him when Kinn looked down at his lips, “Just once?”

Their dynamic was about to change completely. Porsche would stop being his teacher and shift into his bodyguard, his humor replaced by a list of requirements to ensure Kinn’s safety. They would never be Porsche and Little Dragon again.

In a way, Kinn now in a way looks exactly like the boy he met five years ago, but he’s also a man and Porsche understood him perfectly. He wanted a memory to hold onto. Porsche isn’t so cruel as to deny him that.

“Just once.” Because it’s stupid, irrational, and likely to get him fired and lose everything.

Porsche tipped Kinn’s face up by his chin and sealed his lips over Kinn’s. Kinn sighed and relaxed like it drained all the unhappiness away from him. He fumbles a bit as he opened his mouth and tried to tease Porsche, but it was clumsy, so Porsche worked with him, gentling him and pushing his tongue into Kinn’s mouth as he tugged on Porsche’s hips to bring him in closer. Teaching him as he had always taught him. And then Porsche could feel him pressing hard against his thigh as he licked Kinn’s soft palate and dragged his tongue over Kinn’s before he let them part with a slow kiss against Kinn’s lips. Kinn trembled and Porsche silently folded that up into himself because it was beautiful.

Kinn looked at him with a dazed expression and his lips were red.

“I’ll report to you 7 am sharp tomorrow, Khun Kinn.”

It’s a simple sentence, but it destroyed everything. Porsche was reassigned to Khun as if nothing had changed and Kinn disappeared to study abroad. Porsche only ever heard from him to have weekly updates via teleconference, no video, to keep him in the loop on his brother’s progress. It was as if Porsche was being held away by the length of an invisible stick and Kinn would not let him any closer.

He knows now that wasn’t the end, but it was the beginning of the end. The true end had come at when Kinn was twenty-three and he had come back from school and his year abroad in France, strong and more defined in himself and even more set on his feelings. Confronted with a man who knew what he wanted Porsche struggled to keep the line between them. Kinn wasn’t a child and he wouldn’t be contained.

“Porsche,” Kinn called him over and he walked up to the front of Kinn’s desk. He bowed politely and Kinn pressed his hands together under his chin, the rain a distant sound that prickled between them. “You were wounded on the last excursion.”

He had some fantastic bruising and there is a tense moment between them where Kinn expected him to raise his shirt and he did not.

“I appreciate your concern, Khun, but it’s nothing to fret over,” Porsche immediately realized he had set Kinn off. A rookie error.

“I don’t need you to define what my concerns are,” Kinn scolded him. “If my family is to remain protected you had best be up to the job and to prove it.”

Kinn motioned for Porsche to come and stand before him as he turned his chair away from his desk to make space for Porsche in front of him.

Porsche complied to save a fight and unbuttoned his suit vest, stripped it off and then his shirt. The biggest bruise bloomed ugly on his waist and up onto his ribs. It looked and felt like he had been hit with a boulder. Kinn’s fingers reached out and hovered over touching him. Porsche also realized that he’s softer in places than Kinn remembered, Porsche’s want and willingness to lean and hone his body had taken somewhat of a backseat due to his lessened workload. He’s still cut and his stomach ripples as he turns away from Kinn, but there is a soft overlay that cushions his stomach as Kinn grasps him and holds him by the pained part of his side.

“Ow,” Porsche can’t help it, and perversely, Kinn digs into it harder. Porsche pushes him off and Kinn grabs the back of his thigh and Porsche stumbles into him. Kinn hooks his hands around Porsche’s thighs and somehow hikes him up onto his lap in the chair.

Porsche is left to look down at Kinn, his thighs on either side of Kinn’s as Kinn held his hips, eyes trained on his bruise. He asked Porsche, “Did you kill them?”

“Of course, I killed them. They could have harmed the family.”

Kinn ducked and pressed his forehead against Porsche’s bare chest, “The family.”

Porsche yelped as strong fingers dig into his rear and he tried to pry Kinn loose, “Khun—”

“Fuck you,” Kinn told him once again, those big brown eyes coming up to scorn him. One hand loosens and grabbed Porsche by the back of the neck and yanked him down to press him against Kinn’s mouth. Unlike the clumsy eighteen-year-old, Kinn at twenty-three had practiced, and he stole Porsche’s breath away as he consumed him, tongue demanding entrance into his mouth, doing anything, including jabbing Porsche’s bruise to get it. Porsche gasped, startled and Kinn was inside. His grip meant that Porsche couldn’t go anywhere, he was left pinned as Kinn leaned up into him and repeated back to him the same kiss he was given when they kissed last, but it was not the same. It was not humble or kind. Kinn owned him and left him wrought and raw, breath heavy as Kinn finally let him go.

Porsche was about to speak, to curb the insanity, when Kinn hauls him up with strong, stronger than Porsche remembers, arms and carries him towards the bedroom. Porsche pushed at him, “Kinn.”

“I’m a better fuck than half the guys you’ve been with. If not, I’ll never say another word.”

Porsche should have ended it, but he didn’t. He could make infinite excuses: he was weak, he was lonely, it had been a long time, and Kinn was there. The only one that was true was that in that moment, Porsche wanted him. He forgot about the history, he forgot about his place in it all and he simply wanted the gorgeous man in front of him who made him feel special because five years had passed and Porsche was still at the forefront of his mind. Because it was Kinn.

He still remembers how he cried out when he came, shameless, and Kinn crowing victoriously he wrapped his fingers around Porsche’s throat to hold him back to Kinn’s chest. The window Kinn pressed him into was cold and his legs ached but his body shivered hotly. He mewled and shook and it was exhilarating and embarrassing because Kinn was right. He was a better lay, and within an afternoon, ten years of respect went down the drain. Not respect for Kinn, Porsche’s self-respect because Kinn was his charge, even when he wasn’t, and Porsche couldn’t keep it, or his legs, together.

Maybe Kinn thought that if they slept together things would change. Porsche would change. But he didn’t. He showered and dressed and he presented himself to Kinn’s bedraggled hair and sleep-rumpled face.

“You have a meeting at 10 am, Khun Kinn.”

Kinn glares at him, “You’re fired.”

Porsche nods, “Of course.”

His father put Porsche on Khun’s detail far away from Kinn until he left for a business trip that was supposed to last six months but it ended up being three years.

Porsche figures they must have it under control by this point so that when he greets Kinn now, it can be as his true guide and mentor.

Kinn gets out of his Maserati but the passenger side door also swings open and a man, a little older than Kinn but younger than Porsche, gets out with a wide, almost smarmy, smile.

Pete nudges him in the side, “That’s Khun Kinn’s boyfriend, right?”

Porsche has no idea, “I think so.”

“When he said he was bringing him home, I didn’t think he’d go through with it,” Pete murmurs but Porsche has Kinn pinned with a look. He doesn’t know what his face is saying but Kinn is staring back at him just as hard.

Pete reaches out first with a bow, “Khun Kinn.”

“Pete, Tawan, Pete is part of my brother’s detail under Porsche,” Kinn gestures to Porsche.

Porsche doesn’t bow, “I serve as the head of security under Khun Kinn’s employ.”

He lets his gaze slide over to Tawan, “You’ll understand if we have to make some adjustments while you stay here.”

His voice is thin and tight and Kinn barely conceals his glare. Porsche doesn’t care, Tawan seems none the wiser, “That seems reasonable, it was a very abrupt visit after all. I’ve been bugging Kinn to meet his family for months.”

Months. They were fucking the last time Kinn came home and Kinn looks at him while he makes the calculation. Not that he should even have to, Kinn isn’t his boyfriend or even his fuck buddy. He’s pretty sure Kinn has a detailed list about that rather than informing his head of security that he’s bringing an unvetted individual to the compound.

“There’s no problem, is there, Porsche?” Kinn smiles but it’s vacant and he wraps his hand around Tawan’s wrist like a shackle. Porsche eyes his hand and then looks at his face, “Why would there be?”

[bloodonmysqueegee]

Ok. Everyone sit down and bear with me. Come sit. Amazing Spider-Man issue 29. Why does this comic actually have GOOD CONCEPTS IN IT??? HELLO??? Why is this writing pretty decent and why am I excited to see where this is going HOLY FUCK

The.,., "because I wasn't allowed to" I AM IN PAIN TRULY I AM

But yeah, some context and a sort of review for this:

Yeah the spidey comics have been ranging from either lackluster or bad for a while, (with the exception on miles' comics, which have been really good and miles deserves it so :]]) but yeah the mainline comics have been really weird for me, especially with the Paul stuff

BUT now that the Paul stuff has been moved away from there seems to be a slight growth in quality, at least I hope so

ANYWAYS ANYWAYS

Superior Spideys consciousness is trapped within the octo arms, everyone knows that by now I think and while they're probably not letting him out until a while later holy fuck I am genuinely excited for what they do here

Acknowledging that Otto remembers how Gobby really fucked him over during superior vol 1 and showing he's still pissed? GOOD. (Not perfect with Ocks plan not making too much sense. But still good)

Acknowledging how Doc Ocks character development got reversed so he now has a hole in his memories and he's kinda confused on what he's doing? LOVELY.

Peter seemingly getting affected by Superior's memories when he puts on the octo arms so he remembers things Superior knows? BEAUTIFUL, LOVELY CONCEPT. It's a literal role reversal of the first superior volume! Thats honestly cool (I hope they take this a step further, maybe have Pete outright hear Otto when he puts the arms on so he has a way to communicate)

The writing for this issue on its own isn't outstanding, but I'm still finding myself hyped for the next one, I'm excited to see what they do with Peter fighting Doc Ock and dealing with Norman going gobby mode not by choice this time and OHHH MAN I cannot wait for them to give Superior an out from the arms, hopefully a clone body

Can't wait to see that doc ock VS doc ock fight (only one of them has character development)

Anyways I'm insane

[goodnightmemes]

SHUTTER ISLAND (2010) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ You will be accorded all the help we can give, but during your stay, you will obey protocol. Is that understood? ❜

❛ You act like insanity is catching. ❜

❛ You are hereby required to surrender your firearms. ❜

❛ Then, personally, I'd have to say, screw their sense of calm. ❜

❛ It's as if she evaporated straight through the walls. ❜

❛ Seems like something you'd notice from time to time. ❜

❛ Sanity's not a choice. You can't just choose to get over it. ❜

❛ It's 11 miles to the nearest land and the water's freezing. ❜

❛ This is a mental institution, for the criminally insane. Usual isn't a big part of our day. ❜

❛ I always heard it was overrun with boozers and drunks. ❜

❛ You have outstanding defense mechanisms. ❜

❛ You misunderstand me. I said you are a man of violence. I'm not accusing you of being a violent man. That's quite different. ❜

❛ Since the schoolyard, you have never walked away from a physical conflict. No, no, not because you enjoy it, but because retreat isn't something you consider an option. ❜

❛ Just who the hell's in charge here, anyway, huh? ❜

❛ Jesus, are you ever sober anymore? ❜

❛ Are you real? ❜

❛ I'm just bones in a box. ❜

❛ Please. I need to hold on to you. Just a little bit longer, please. ❜

❛ You have to let me go. ❜

❛ I thought your investigation was finished. ❜

❛ I have this radical idea that if you treat a patient with respect, listen to him, try and understand, you just might reach him. ❜

❛ Do you know what she was afraid of? You. ❜

❛ I have my dark days. I suppose everybody does. ❜

❛ What I'm doing, it's not exactly by the book. ❜

❛ I don't give a damn about by-the-book. I just wanna know what the hell's going on. ❜

❛ Lot of places to hide a body here. ❜

❛ I've had enough of killing. That's not why I'm here. ❜

❛ A lot of people know about this place, but no one wants to talk. It's like they're scared or something. ❜

❛ How do you believe a crazy guy? ❜

❛ That's the beauty of it, isn't it? Crazy people, they're the perfect subjects. They talk, nobody listens. ❜

❛ Luck doesn't work that way. The world doesn't work that way. ❜

❛ What if while you were looking into them, they were looking into you? ❜

❛ Don't you know how lonely I've been? You're gone. You're dead. I cry every night. How am I supposed to survive? ❜

❛ I buried you. I buried an empty casket. ❜

❛ My [name]'s dead, so who the fuck are you? ❜

❛ You should have saved me. You should have saved all of us. ❜

❛ The clock's ticking, my friend. We're running out of time. ❜

❛ Why didn't you save me? ❜

❛ You need to find him. You need to find him and you kill him dead. ❜

❛ Listen, I don't wanna leave here, all right? I mean, why would anybody want to? ❜

❛ What the fuck's the matter with you guys? Catch them, not kill them! ❜

❛ Stop me, please, before I kill more. ❜

❛ You told me I'd be free of this place. You promised. You lied. ❜

❛ They say I'm theirs now. They say I'll never leave here. ❜

❛ I'll never get out now. I got out once. Not twice, never twice. ❜

❛ This is a game. All of this is for you. ❜

❛ You're a fucking rat in a maze. ❜

❛ I'm gonna find out what the fuck is happening on this island. ❜

❛ Would you mind taking your hand from behind your back, please? I wanna make sure that what you're holding won't hurt me. ❜

❛ That's the genius of it. People tell the world you're crazy, and all your protests to the contrary just confirm what they're saying. ❜

❛ Once you're declared insane, then anything you do is called part of that insanity. ❜

❛ You're smarter than you look. That's probably not a good thing. ❜

❛ The brain controls pain. The brain controls fear, empathy, sleep, hunger, anger. Everything. What if you could control it? ❜

❛ You can never take away all a man's memories. Never. ❜

❛ Seen any walking nightmares lately? ❜

❛ You can't stay here. I'm afraid if they come looking for you, they might find me. I'm sorry, but you have to go. ❜

❛ You're as violent as they come. I know this because I'm as violent as they come. ❜

❛ If the constraints of society were lifted, and I was all that stood between you and a meal, you would crack my skull with a rock and eat my meaty parts. Wouldn't you? ❜

❛ If I was to sink my teeth into your eye right now, would you be able to stop me before I blinded you? ❜

❛ You don't have a partner. You came here alone. ❜

❛ You know, I've built something valuable here, and valuable things have a way of being misunderstood in their own time. ❜

❛ I'm trying to do something that people, yourself included, don't understand. And I'm not going to give up without a fight. ❜

❛ Did you know that the word "trauma" comes from the Greek for "wound"? And what is the German word for "dream"? Traum. ❜

❛ Wounds can create monsters, and you...you are wounded. And wouldn't you agree, when you see a monster, you must stop it? ❜

❛ You go there and you'll die. ❜

❛ You blew up my car. I really loved that car. ❜

❛ Tremors are getting pretty bad. How are the hallucinations? ❜

❛ Get out of here. This place is gonna be the end of you. ❜

❛ Your delusions are more severe than I thought. ❜

❛ After everything I've seen here, you really think you're gonna convince me I'm crazy? ❜

❛ You've created a story in which you're not a murderer. You’re a hero. ❜

❛ I wish I could let you just live in your fantasy world. I really do. ❜

❛ I'm sorry. There wasn't any other way. ❜

❛ I trusted you. I risked everything to come in here after you. Everything! ❜

❛ I told you not to come in here. I told you this would be the end of you. ❜

❛ If you ever loved me, please stop talking. ❜

❛ I need to know you've accepted reality. ❜

❛ You tried to help me when no one else would. ❜

❛ Which would be worse, to live as a monster...or to die as a good man? ❜

[fruitcoops]

The Roadtrip

Secret Santa 2022 gift for @veryspacecowboy, monarch of AUs, PhD in story spams, and altogether outstanding friend! M, I wish you all the best in the coming year. Hopefully you can experience even half the joy you bring to those of us on the server, because that would be a damn good year. Love and hugs, dear one <3 An AU seemed appropriate considering the wonderful nonsense we get up to in the channels. Cubs credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Fifteen Hours

Attention passengers. This airport has been closed indefinitely due to inclement weather. Please contact your airline for vouchers, assistance, and travel aides.

“…so, Gryffindor?”

“Gryffindor.”

“Same.”

The redhead nodded slowly, chewing the inside of his lip as he watched the other planes begin their slow return off the runway. “Y’know, my car is still parked in the garage.”

Fourteen Hours

Leo really wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Striking up conversation with the friendly guy in the window seat was bad enough—carrying it on to their middle-seat companion was far beyond his usual level of socialization with strangers. But getting in a car with them for a four-hour drive…

Christ, it was like he was asking to get axe-murdered.

He chanced a quick look at the driver’s seat, where the redhead—Finn O’Hara, nice to meet you, where are you from?—still seemed happy enough as they made their way to the freeway through the thickening flurries. He felt a little bad about making someone else drive, but if the soft snoring from the backseat was any indication, Logan had no such qualms. It was probably smart to let a local weave them out of the city anyway.

“Zeppelin?”

Finn startled a little. “What?”

“Led Zeppelin.” Leo nodded toward the dashboard radio. “Nice.”

“Ah, yeah, my dad likes it,” Finn said with a lopsided smile.

Close with his parents. Good sign. “What do you like?”

“Little bit of everything. I’ve got, like, two dozen Spotify playlists lined up. Let me guess, you’re…country?”

Leo laughed. “What gave it away? The accent?”

“The pins on your bag.” Finn gestured vaguely toward the backpack Leo had been cradling in his lap since they left JFK. A little murdery of him to notice, but also kind of sweet. “My mom loves Carole King.”

“Carole King isn’t country.”

A blush peeked out over the collar of Finn’s jacket as he coughed lightly, looking back to the road. “Right. Yeah, of course. I knew that.”

“You don’t like country,” Leo guessed, amused.

“It’s not—bad.”

“Mhmm.” He checked the rearview mirror again and caught Logan’s drowsy gaze; that pure jade color had captivated Leo on the plane, not that he would admit it aloud. If noticing the pins on someone’s bag was creepy, there were no words for ‘I want to stare into your eyes all day’ without sounding like an absolute freak. He tilted his chin. “How about you?”

Logan’s brows furrowed. “What about me?”

“Do you like country music?”

“Ouais, some.” He yawned, stretching as much as his seat would allow. The curl of his accent was a comfort Leo didn’t care to analyze. “Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash. My sister got me into it.”

“Noelle?”

“Non, Sydney.”

“Second oldest?” At Logan’s nod and slight smile, Finn fist-pumped. “Thank you, memory. I can’t listen to country while I’m driving, but you can put whatever on when we switch.”

Eleven Hours

Logan tapped his foot impatiently next to the accelerator. They had swapped after Finn got them through two full hours of standstill traffic just outside the city limits, but there wasn’t much he could do about the descending weather. Honking at the flurries wouldn’t be nearly as helpful as it was satisfying.

“I wonder if we can Flintstones it,” Leo mused from the passenger seat. His hair stuck up on one side from leaning on the window, burnt gold in the streetlights of the interstate. His knees were folded up awkwardly in the seat well; Logan hadn’t realized how much of a fucking giant he was before their quick stop at the gas station, and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. He was otherwise so normal. Logan couldn’t help but feel a little cowed in his shadow.

“Logan?”

He jumped, double-checking his grip on the steering wheel. “Oui?”

“Flintstones?”

“Sorry, never saw it.” He gave Leo an apologetic glance and braced himself for the inevitable ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s. People always assumed he had been sheltered, or homeschooled, or (memorably) in a cult, but the truth was that Rimouski had shit reception and his sisters always won the TV remote in fights. The annoying part was when strangers began to list movies and see which rang a bell.

Leo hummed and leaned his head back against Finn’s soft fabric headrest. “It’s a cartoon from the 50s or something about a prehistoric family. They’ve got a pet dinosaur and shit, and their car only works if the dad sticks his feet through a hole in the floor and runs.”

Logan waited a moment longer for the questioning to continue. What about Star Wars? was always a favorite. Do you know who Steven Spielberg is? Have you seen Jaws? Hey, you remind me of that actor from…

Leo gave him a funny look, something confused and yet not offended, then turned to look out the window at the falling snow with a small smile. “It’s nice out there,” he said quietly. “Peaceful.”

Finn’s slow, heavy breaths from the backseat as he dozed accented the crawl of traffic perfectly. Logan turned away from Leo and blinked at the cars in front of them. He couldn’t help but like it, just a little. Just enough to get by.

Nine Hours

“Three rooms?” Finn dug around in his pocket, then shook his head. “Or, sorry, room for three?”

Behind rhinestone-coated glasses, the woman gave him a sympathetic look. Hi, I’m: Rhonda! Ask Me About: New Jersey! was spelled in cheerful red lettering on her lanyard. “Oh, honey.”

“Sorry, ‘s a long drive.” The weight on his back increased as Leo swayed into him. Finn prodded him gently and felt him startle back into consciousness before offering her a smile. “Came from JFK. No planes, with the weather and everything.”

“Where’re you headed?”

“Gryffindor. Family visit.” He tilted his head back toward Leo, then down at Logan, who was staring vacantly at the far wall. “Visiting a college friend, and…honestly, I have no idea where he’s going.”

“Ma sœur,” Logan mumbled.

“Right, yeah, his sister.” Finn ran a hand through his hair and over the back of his neck. His brain was mashed potatoes. What was usually a four-hour hop had become far more of a journey than he had planned. “We’ve been on the road since six. It’s a mess out there.”

“I bet.” Rhonda tapped at her keyboard for a moment and bit down on her lip. “We’ve got a room with a bed and a pullout, but that’s it. Lots of folks are coming in for the night because of the storm. I can look for a cot?”

Ice. Bed. Pullout couch. Finn suddenly became aware that he had been staring at Rhonda’s red acrylic nails for far longer than socially acceptable. “Yeah,” he managed. Everything had a faint blurry halo, even through his glasses. “Whatever you’ve got.”

“I can help you pay for it.” Leo was warm where he pressed along Finn’s side for support, a welcome reprieve from the freezing wind outside. Logan made a noise of agreement.

Just the thought of maneuvering three sets of paperwork made Finn’s growing headache throb even more. “You can Venmo me later, ‘s fine.”

The papers Rhonda passed across the desk could have been the deed to his soul, and Finn would not have hesitated a second before signing. Exhaustion washed over him in waves. The road trip had been fun at first, but after six and a half hours of creeping down the highway he was just done. He listed into Leo and felt a strong hand come down to balance his elbow; his muttered ‘thanks’ was met with a light headbutt. The cold press of the motel room key in his hand was salvation itself.

--

“Didn’t she say something about a cot?”

“Yeah, forty minutes ago. Which one of you left your wet fucking towel on the floor in here?”

“Guys, the pullout’s broken.”

“…alright, just get in the bed.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Four Hours

Six a.m. broke cruel and dark and cold. Leo scowled at the window and turned over, into the soft thing in front of him. It smelled like cheap citrus shampoo and the starchy detergent of the motel sheets. He risked opening one eye; Logan’s face was smushed up on one side while he snored quietly. Bedtime had been a rushed and fumbling affair of discarded bags and a halfhearted attempt at pajamas once they gave up on the pullout or any hope of a cot. Leo was just grateful for a mattress for his aching body.

In the faint light of passing cars, Leo sort of wished he had taken the time to see them both properly. Plane seats and Finn’s Toyota didn’t exactly lend themselves well to getting a fair look at his companions. Friends? Could he call them friends yet? He knew the names of their siblings and their favorite music—he knew Finn wore thick tortoiseshell glasses when he had to drive at night, and that Logan hummed under his breath when he thought they were both asleep. Those felt like things a friend would know.

Leo…Leo wasn’t all that good at friends, though. He was excellent with acquaintances. People tended to like him just fine. It was the depth that made him uncomfortable. There always came a point when he had to toe the line of just how honest he could be.

So he let himself look. If they weren’t going to be anything but ships in the night, there was no real harm. He remembered Logan’s frustrated grumble when he dug through his duffel and came up emptyhanded, but his shirtlessness hadn’t registered in Leo’s weary mind beyond warm person soft. The shadows caught on his rounded shoulder and slipped down his arm like spilt ink. He was tan even in the low light, with a few dark freckles splashed in odd places. Leo pillowed his head on his arms and followed the line of Logan’s torso with his eyes—he was just so nice to look at, like this. Comfortable and mostly-hidden under thick polyester, with none of his careful walls up.

Leo was so caught up in the glimpse of Logan’s abs that he nearly missed Finn’s hand. Wouldn’t that be a tragedy, he thought as he shifted closer to them both. Finn was mostly invisible between Logan’s broad body and the dark room, but he was pale enough to stand out where his forearm was slung over Logan’s hip. He was strong, too, but where Logan was thick and sturdy Finn seemed to have been stretched out. The blanket bumps of his legs and feet sat a solid three inches further down the bed than Logan’s—even his hand was bigger and more slender, long fingers twitching in his sleep.

Leo thought back to the subtle pin on Finn’s messenger bag and the way Logan had looked at them both in his quiet, careful way. If they asked, he knew what he’d say. Takes one to know one. Clocking them was easy, when he knew where to look (that, and their music taste). It probably wouldn’t come up. But if it did, he wouldn’t protest a phone number. Or two.

One of them made a quiet noise when Leo shuffled closer to wrest the blankets back over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of the highway lull him.

Two Hours

“JOLENE, JOLENE, JOLENE, JOLENE!” Leo hollered at the top of his lungs through his laughter.

“I’M BEGGIN’ OF YOU PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY MAN!” Finn shouted back, cranking up the stereo until Logan swore he felt the window rattle. He could see them in the rearview mirror, both rosy from singing and generally being rowdy idiots. He would never understand morning people.

“Did you text your sister yet?” Leo called over his shoulder.

“Can’t!” Logan answered. “You’re too loud!”

“It’s texting!”

“I can’t hear myself think!”

“Come on, Tremblay, lighten up!”

Logan meet Finn’s eyes in the mirror and fixed him with a look. “You don’t even like country music.”

“It’s Dolly Parton!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered. The happy, fluttery thing that leapt in his chest when Leo whooped and stuck his head out the window like a dog was entirely unimportant. Finn had finally been banished to the passenger seat, leaving Logan with an unobstructed view of his profile. He had spent much of yesterday sneaking glances at Leo’s round jaw and button nose; memorizing the angles of Finn’s cheekbones and neck was equally fascinating. It was deeply unfair of the universe to put him in close quarters with two attractive strangers. It was even more unfair that he slept solidly through the night sandwiched between them.

Finn had been an adorable, stammering mess when they woke up cuddling. Logan hadn’t had the chance to say anything of substance before Leo woke and Finn hustled off to find breakfast, though that was probably for the best. He would inevitably end up saying something to make it worse.

“Ninety minutes from Gryff, baby!” Finn crowed as they crossed the border out of New York. His whole face was alight when he turned to look at Logan. “Told you I’d get us here faster than the plane!”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. New Yorker,” Leo teased.

Oh, no. Logan’s heart skipped a beat. There was that funny feeling again, right at his core, the one he hadn’t felt in so long it was nearly a dream. Finn’s exuberance was like watching the night sky explode into being before his very eyes. Leo’s smile was brighter than the sun on fresh-plowed snow.

This was going to be a problem. They were going to be a problem.

Five Thirty Minutes

We should keep each other’s numbers. Hey, do you want to keep each other’s numbers? Since we’re all here, do you want to grab lunch? Do you want to hang out? Do you want to meet my family? How do you feel about marriage?

“Either of you want a granola bar? I have a million of them.”

Logan looked amused, which Finn counted as a win compared to the studious staring he had been subjected to over the course of the morning. His dark curls fluffed out from beneath the sides of his hat. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Leo?”

“I’ve got lunch plans.” Leo’s smile was apologetic and more adorable than anyone had the right to be.

Alex’s block was coming up. Well, not Alex’s block, but the one he was frequenting more and more as the months passed until Finn had to check and make sure what city he was in before setting any plans. Two streets and they’d be at the apartment building.

Leo and Logan did not know that.

Leo and Logan were engaged in some sort of cross-console nonsense.

Leo and Logan were right there, happy and comfortable.

Finn turned his blinker on and took a left.

The End of the Road

“Attention, passengers, we have arrived at our destination.”

Logan snorted a laugh at Finn’s poor impression of their pilot. God almighty, Leo wanted to kiss the dimple on his cheek. The car came to a stop at the curb. He did not miss the way Finn’s hand lingered on the gearshift before moving to the emergency brake. He was already five minutes late for lunch. Part of him wanted Finn to knock the car right back into ‘drive’ in spite of what Regulus would surely say.

The car was quieter than it had been since the engine first rumbled to life, fifteen hours and a lifetime ago. They gathered their things from the wells and trunk and every corner of the seats. The snow was just starting to stick to the sidewalk, crunching under three pairs of sneakers before they came to a stop at the driver’s side. Finn scuffed his foot against the curb. Logan couldn’t quite meet either of their eyes.

“Well,” Leo said after a moment of silence. “Gimme your phones. I’m here for the next five days and don’t know shit about hell.”

Finn looked up with that crooked, endearing grin. “I’m pretty useless here.”

Logan half-shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m Canadian.”

Leo held his hand out expectantly; between one breath and the next, two phones sat in his palm. “Sounds like we’ll have to figure it out together.”

[lluvguts]

i saw this one post circling tloz twitter about link and i just think it’s so absurd. warning for some small totk spoilers. this is a big post because tloz is my special interest atm and i have things to say  

people are berating the devs for botw/totk for not giving link enough personality or outstanding attributes to his character, or “putting his exuberance in his personality in the wrong places” (i.e. link’s excited gestures and expressions when cooking, excited over the pony points in totk, generally any small bit of narrative that is not drawn toward the central plot versus his near expressionless face, stoic demeanor whenever zelda is in a cutscene with him in it) and i actually think, whether it was intentional or not, it’s completely understandable why link’s character acts the way that it does. 

this is the direct link to the twitter post in case the screenshots are difficult to see. no hate to op i will just write my opinion on my own blog because twitter is ruthless and stupid about people who don’t believe the same things as them lol

i know the devs aren’t trying that hard when using link’s century-long sleep + amnesia as a focal point to his character arc, but they should, because his entire personality in these two games literally is justified because of this. he’s one of my favorite reincarnations aside from oot and twilight princess link, because i feel as though the absence of this lore behind everything is even more reason to further his development and understanding of him as a fucking character. 

i headcanon link as neurodivergent, for many reasons, but i will only mention this as a small point in the overarching reason but anyway

these small scenes where link’s personality show through while interacting with people who do not directly interfere with his trauma, and have nothing to do with zelda and/or ganon/calamity, because there is no traumatic influence that would make him feel as though he has to hide what small bits of his own inner self that is left 

in these scenes where link is with zelda in present botw and in his memories on the slate, link is silent, blank face. in reality, for someone suffering from amnesia, and autistic, this will be the blueprint for this character to go, “hmm, i really don’t know anything about myself right now. but these pictures and glimpses of my past are the only way i can understand who i was before this happened. so i will only act on the behaviors i understand from memory.” 

totk link seeing zelda outside of his tiny bits of memory irl, and people are angry that he’s not expressive enough in the game? he just reunited with the person he is sworn to protect, and he’s supposed to feel all lovey-dovey, happy-feely?? I would assume link must think that zelda hates him, tbh, because we don’t GET this conversation in the game, all that link understands is the weight of his own responsibility and his own fuckups

this silent suffering knight is not link’s character. this is not his personality. this is the person that he thought would best suit this situation, much like how many neurodivergent people can quickly read a room, and chameleon themselves to best fit the people around them, and make them happy. the bits and pieces we see when link is not directly interacting with people associated with his past and trauma are the glimpses into his true self imo

link doesn’t try to bond with any of the other characters outside of the ones in the linear plot probably because he doesn’t fucking know how to. almost all of the memories in botw (i haven’t played totk yet but i know at least 50% of the plotline) link is either practicing fighting, guarding zelda, or just being zelda’s silent guide and companion, because yes, that’s his job, but that is also the only persona that makes sense to him. 

he wasn’t given his position to make friends with every other person in the game, screw the devs just because link got excited over the damn pony points apparently

in botw link very obviously doesn’t have any grasp on his own personal identity and the role he plays in the fate of humanity because of his memory loss, the fact he is thrust into this world that has essentially forgotten of his existence is pretty fucked up 

do people really expect a switch in link’s brain to go off and for him to suddenly assimilate this strong, knightly bravado, now with 1000+ unique expressions, just because zelda gave link very small bits of his memories back? just because he can see her face to face now? hell no. amnesia and trauma responses don’t work like that 

botw/totk link had NO backbone on how to move forward in his own character arc, because the only people that new about his existence other than zelda and the elders of the hyrule regions, were dead. like. would link really be smiling and excited around zelda and everyone else after the fact? 

OP in the tweet had mentioned that SS link behaved much differently than botw link does, he had life and was much more excitable and had complex emotions written on his face. well. obviously. because this is not the same link as SS link, they are in a different life path whereas SS link was not killed and then preserved for 100 years with all of his memories forgotten. SS link was still a young adult, a child even, he had fun character traits and cute expressions because could still enjoy life in skyloft and be a kid before fated responsibility and demise hit. like, at least oot link had a second chance at his childhood, botw/totk link was probably thrust into responsibility before he could even fathom what types of roles he would need to play when he grew up. 

link remains silent and because of this, probably masking his inner emotions 

he doesn’t know or think that anything other than his vow of silence is the best option. he’s probably terrified of fucking up again even if it means just expressing verbal or physical concern, sadness, joy--literally any emotion. i really can’t think of this link having any other thought processes other than this one. he isn’t a silly, mindless child. he’s an adult, or at least was forced to act like one before he was ready. 

anyway thank you to anyone who read this :> i write fics if anyone wants to indulge a shameless self promo after i word vomit/defend botw link

[seriouslysam8]

Brumous Sneak Peek

Chapter Three: The Fugue State

“Snape!” Sirius hissed before he could reach the front door.

Snape whipped around, his black robes swirling around him in some odd and unnecessarily dramatic way that probably intimidated the first years. “What is it, Black?”

Sirius arched an eyebrow, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. “I heard you stopped giving Harry Occlumency lessons.”

Snape didn’t say anything. A sour look crossed his features.

“He needs those lessons,” Sirius insisted, standing his ground.

“He’s unteachable,” Snape replied, wrapping his cloak around his body and looking like a bat right-side up.

“Maybe you’re just a shit professor,” Sirius replied, his speech he practiced for an hour going to shit when his anger flared.

Remus stepped up next to him, a little out of breath.

“Severus!” Remus said in a loud voice as he took a step forward. “This is important. You know it is. Do you really want Lily’s sacrifice to go to waste?”

“Do not talk to me about her,” Snape hissed out, his words low and drawn out.

“I know why you put that memory in the Pensieve,” Sirius said, taking no mirth from the situation. “While Harry shouldn’t snoop, you shouldn’t leave your things out when you’re expecting someone. Harry’s middle name is curious and you can’t deny that. He walks by a Pensieve and sees his father and you expect him not to look? The father he lost, the father he never knew, the father he craves, and you think he’s not going to want to know more?”

“It’s not my job to teach him how much of an ingrate his father was,” Snape replied, his lips pulling back to show his yellow teeth.

“It’s your fucking job to teach him how to block his mind!” Sirius shouted. “You haven’t done that! You’ve left him vulnerable to an attack!”

“Severus, you need to resume Occlumency lessons with Harry,” Remus interjected, placing a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “You know the importance of it just as much as we do. Harry is not James. Harry is not Sirius. Harry is nobody but Harry. You cannot punish him for the sins of his father or his godfather.”

Snape scoffed. “He is arrogant-” 

“He isn’t!” Remus yelled, his head shaking. “You look at him and it is so easy to see James. I understand that. He looks exactly like James! But the moment he opens his mouth, he is nothing like James. You must realize that!”

Sirius’ jaw clenched, his fingers curling into fists inside his pockets. It took every single fiber of his being not to pound Snape into the fucking ground. Harry was the most modest person that Sirius had ever met. Snape could only grasp at broom bristles instead of admitting that Harry was an outstanding kid.

Snape’s face twisted like he had swallowed a lemon whole. “You can lead a horse to water but you cannot force it to drink.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sirius snapped.

“Potter must get his intelligence from his godfather then,” Snape retorted. “It means there is only so much I can do. I can give Potter the tools and the knowledge. If he cannot perform the magic, there isn’t anything else I can do for him. He is a lost cause.”

“He is not a lost cause!” Sirius roared.

[originemesis]

@kugel-bitch cont. from xxx

Before she makes a grab for Adam's reaching hand she takes a quick moment to shed the kevlar layer stifling her sense of touch, plucking the gloves off her fingers and leaving them there amidst the blond blooms to be retrieved at a later time. She does not want anything to repress her ability to absorb as much of this experience as she can within whatever span of time she is granted. All of it, every last, minute detail, she wants it chiseled into the deepest niches of her mind, so that not even eternity's corrosive influence can scrub these memories clean from the essence of her being. Much of her life has been relatively unremarkable. She was not created to be a witness, or an incendiary to extraordinary events, so she has little to look back on in terms of outstanding moments, but this she wants to hold onto, with everything that she's got. Palm against palm, she hoists herself back into an upright position but remains put inside the cradle of Adam's wingspan, hanging off his every word as if he were reciting a previously unknown chapter of the holy gospel to her. There's no end to the fascination she has for the machinations of his mind—he's made it easy to maintain throughout the years, ever taciturn in regards to his innermost thoughts and feelings. Of course there is much she has learned to glean from his day-to-day disposition but it is very different to actually hear him voice the things that go on inside the dome of his cranium. He speaks her name and her brows shoot skyward. "Me?"

Okay. Something is up. Like, up, up. Way above her current understanding of what this venture is really about. "I think you're giving me a little too much credit right now, Adam...are you—" Amidst the confusion and the steadily climbing rate of her heartbeat the words are getting lost on their way from her head to her tongue. She stares at him through the reflection of the moonlight gleaming in his visor, bouncing off the glass and in turn casting a silver-gold glow on her bemused countenance. She may be humanoid in appearance but this lighting very much accentuates the ethereal nature of her flesh, how it gleams like finely carved, polished marble, entirely void of the fine lines, dimples and pores that give humans their unique, rugged appearance. When the light catches her at just the right angle, he might see the subtle, mother-of-pearl-esque colors swimming in the whiteness of her face, like the inside of an oyster's shell. "—are you okay? You feel...warm. really warm." Just then she realizes that she is still holding onto his hand, but she makes no move to pull away. Something tells her that he might be in need of a spot of moral support right now. "...yes, of course, you know you can tell me anything. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere...Tell me what you're thinking."

"-take the credit then? Unless you'd prefer a little more than a 'little' to cash out now?" He'd spent too much time with the flock to not take note of how she seemed to buckle at the sudden shift in his tone that only seemed more potent with the addition of Eden's cicada population. The cadence of crickets and frogs crooned as normal, but he'd already taken their song for his own inside his head and began to push it outwards with the help of his helmet- a base of the former thing...improved. More notable. The wind in the pond's cattails probably joined in a scratch or two on top of it. Anything nearby seemed willing to become a magnified instrument with whatever had happened to switch the atmosphere on like a microphone.

The golden gait of his gaze fell to observe how her form shimmered its shedding disguise beneath the moon. She was opaline- a form that drew him nearer still and promised the golden light of his splendor would always be reflected and even improved when she blended her various colors with his before reflecting them out again. "Y-yeah...the fuck wouldn't I be?" He assured with a huff, though made no movement to withdraw from the proximity of their faces just yet. "It's just...you're so-" Words caught in his throat a moment, and with a swift swallow, he chased after them.

"...so pretty."

Giving the bare hand coaxed within his a careful squeeze, he was quick to offer the look of concern on her face a quirk of a smile behind his visor. "Feelin' real shitty I didn't spend V-day with ya now." He added, a twinge of remorse caught in a grimace. She'd already came to him about it, and yet he'd still been too sore to delve further past a noncommittal grunt and a 'don't do it again then, slut'. With a seamless shift, he leaned backwards to observe her face propped up in his claw and to dig the edge of his thumb into her cheek, rubbing fondly in a deep yet slow circle. It's her prompting out of concern for him that drives him to relent with sagged shoulders and feathers fluttering until each respective wing met one another around the back of hers as he doted over her with an assortment of clucks and coos.

Time to be a man about it- [until 3:05 for this part OOf-]

"...so hear me out." Leaning in to the subtle acoustics the garden provided, he set to work inside his helmet- lining up the custom sounds of nature with a scrambling of style that bet fit him- best fit her the more he tinkered away at it. The sound coursing through him and threading into the universe around them was all encompassing at first- and for the time being it seemed to have no direct source, though perhaps the bass beginning to thud against them tucked close to one another would reveal that it was the thudding clatter of his heart against his chest that seemed to be the culprit in the matter. Their first day in the garden was spent with the configuring of such noises and vibrations, and so deep were they that it was hard to notice the time that passed and how utterly inconsequential it was to an angel's crooning while using every edge of the universe for its game.

It was only when the light from the moon had faded to the early temperance of dawn that he began his musings- musical and rumbling in his chest. "...once upon a time-" His wings would follow the first few words dropped, flaring outwards fully to let her admire the last of the moonlight's kisses along his feathers as the dawn cycled through them. "...I used to romanticize...used to be somebody- hff...nevermind-" A shrug. "...don't miss it that much now."

His croons cycled through the equalizer, magnifying the depths of each word until they reverberated with the effort that ripples along water formed when fingertips dipped into the surface of puddles recently shed from an earlier morning drizzle. "I feel it sinkin' in. Days where I wonder where I've been-...in picture perfect..." With a puff, he scooted the back of his knuckles beneath her jawline, ghosting along it with the precision of a guitarist with a lute at his disposal. "-porcelain. But I wont' lose a pound. You said I-" The music of the garden's initial sounds concentrated by his efforts began to deepen with each note that helped pull him upwards slowly but surely. Without a flap or a flutter, but with wings on full, outstretched display, the melody began to tug him upwards while he observed her from above with mild amusement. Was it clear to her now that his voice was amplified in a way that did not hurt the senses- but boomed with enough brightness to bully both heaven and hell into witnesses of his cause? "-would make a better lyre...I never face the music when it's di-i-ire...and I breathe ~ disaster...ever-after. Don't pull away from me now."

The day had already begun to fade again in the golden light of second-day's sunset when he rode the current at his current capacity carefully around her- wings outstretched and fluttering about her shoulders as he circled just above her head. "Don't you move." A firm chirrup later and he was barely grazing her cheek with his feathers as he rose higher into the air above her. "Can't you stay? Where you are-...just for now?" A smile tugged at his visor, overly warm when pinned in her direction. He clicked his teeth and continued with a warble. "I could be your per-fect disaster..." Disaster as it was to curl the ends of his wing tips around her face and coax it back to ensure she followed his movements, he did so with an extraordinary amount of care despite having to babysit all the different sound emittances from his helmet in addition to what he crooned next.

"-you could be my ever after? You-" A gritty growl dug its talons in, unwilling to let her go now that they'd already been left upon the stage of infinite time at his request via the sound frequency he channeled through the very depths of his chest. The violins he'd heard often in heaven could be heard too- repurposed for his own design. A collage of sounds all meant to serenade her. "-could be my ever after...after all? I could be your perfect disaster..." He'd been perfect once before, after all. A perfect being in this place that made her stare so much in wonder at...how he longed to put on a performance that would have her look at him that way. "You could be my ever after-apologies!"

With a harsh flap, the angelic broadcaster launched himself backwards away from her, coming to rest within the bough of a tree above the thicket. The drums from their band were recorded in various means in his files, but he'd found just the right pattern of them to admit at that moment and applied the sound of them just as the third day began to breathe its sigh into his lungs. "I'm not myself." He argued that fact with a gesture to the face he wore. He knew she probably wanted to see what was underneath it now more than ever- to see him and see if he was just joking around and jerking her chain, but there was no way he could support the orchestra of sounds without the thing locked in place now and thrumming with all manner of fervent frequencies. "But I can guarantee-! That when I get back? You won't believe...that you know me well."

Palm flat against the bark of his perch, he circled the trunk of the white oak, eyes trained down on her and talons dug in to scratch the post as if he could grind their initials in without a second thought. "Don't wanna think about it-" A spot on the bark where a heart and the initials A+E rested received a hearty scratch from his circling efforts. "I'm fuckin' TIRED of getting SICK ABOUT IT-" Talons curled in and a fist met the heart once with a melodic slam that he used to launch himself away from the base of the tree and out amongst its leafy boughs were his light grazing of weight against the lighter branches shook leaves and unripe pollen free to fall overhead.

With a brutish beat of his wings to bat the weaker limbs away- snapping what couldn't withstand his fury in that moment and sending them tumbling down, he scoffed with the same energy he'd toss to a crowd of gathered exorcists all looking for that serotonin boost to get worked up for their next extermination. "Now stand back up- and be a MAN about it. And fight for something!" He demanded, wings cracking with each emphasis of- "fight for something! FIGHT for someTHING!" The final 'thing' was just the burst needed to launch himself down into the patches of flowers he'd collected at the tree's base, ripping them up with his wings beating furiously on impact. "Oough ~ you said I would make a better lyre? Never face the music when it's dire. I breathe-" And he did- the sharpest inhale when he saw the glow of the moonlight on her skin again pitching her into a mold that he could never replicate despite all his furious feather flares. She'd always exude a sense of divinity he could only hope to graze should he work the tempo up enough to get airborne. "-disaster. Ever ~ after. Don't pull away from me now..."

Golden light flashed- sparked as if by his claims, and as he began to rise again without the assistance of wing flaps in favor of having them outstretched and on full, flashing display under the light of the third day's half moon, the golden flashes formulated and formed the golden ax in his arms just in time to meet a thunderous strum of his angelic specialty - the strings. All of them attached.

"Don't you move-...can't you stay? Where you are...just for now??"

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

Gable (Campaign: Skyjacks):

7ft tall sulver-haired thembo of a fallen angel. was the literal sword of god until they killed him! reasons slightly unclear but probably sure to forbidden queer love! super caring for their friends. has one friend they have known for hundreds of years who they HATE but are bound to by the red string of fate. their sword is a part of them, they can sheathe it into a tattoo. they start out indistinct at the edges but as they have continued on through the campaign they have become more and more distinct. they became a flaming engine of justice to kill their friends shitheaded older brother who was following him. they have learned enough necromancy to allow other fallen angels to die, even though they typically cannot. they fly giant birds in to battle.

7ft tall beefcake wielding a sword as tall as they are. vengeful sweetheart

Imagine now: a fallen angel with beautiful gray hair and very big muscles. Now imagine them with a 9 ft sword. Now imagine them as a helmsperson of a pirate ship in a flowy deep-v pirate shirt. Now imagine they're dumb as a fucking rock. And finally, imagine that they killed god. Here, you have made Gable Skyjacks: sexiest podcast character of all time.

7ft tall nonbinary/genderfluid thembo fallen angel sky pirate who wields a buster sword. silvergrey hair with black/gold streaks as they regain feathers/memories of before their fall. back is covered in tattoos that hide the scars of their shredded off wings. killed God. toxic exes with lucifer. they are the keeper of several giant war birds who occasionally crave human flesh. they enjoy getting rowdy/smoking rope with their boys. they collect rocks that they think are neat. When anyone admits they are attracted to them, Gable trips over their words and absolutely swaglessly ends up sounding stupider and sexier by the end of the conversation; the will they/won't they and teasing they dish out to these (un?)lucky few is palpable. Sometimes the buster sword is on fire. They are immortal, they are cringe, they are trying to atone because they believe they are the reason the world is ruined.

Hector Hu is a priest. Gable killed God. They are not the same.

I want to thank my fellow Gable nominators for doing an outstanding job showcasing the beauty and gracelessness that is Gable Skyjacks. Fight hard and take flight my friends 💪😇

Okay so aside from all of the above (giant with a matching giant flaming sword, killed god, extreme dumbass), here's some more propaganda for Gable the Godkiller.

They've escaped death multiple times with their partner in... crime? Like literally they were about to be executed in the most brutal way possible and just. Escaped and killed all their captors in the snowy wastelands.

They are the helmsperson of the Uhuru and take this job very seriously and definitely haven't left it to Bowser (you know, like from Mario) multiple times. Can steer that flying ship in horrible weather and still make it to port safely.

Healed an entire fucking hospital by cutting their hair for someone they had the hots for who was also in the hospital. Imagine being on that level of myth making in some random port city because of a hair cut.

Giant bird caretaker and also took the giant birds out on their friend's bachelor party (this was like. his Xth polyamorous marriage at this point btw) and had a fucking blast getting high on some rope and fucking around. They've also flown these birds into combat and looked cool as hell doing it (see: killing their friend's shithead of an older brother in a joust).

Had a relationship with Lucifer the Morning Star before they fell as an angel and killed God. Literally the reason the stars fell was their love for each other. The world would not look the same without Gable and they are, at the very least indirectly responsible for the creation of the Church of the Slain God and everything it represents (fantasy Catholicism).

And also yeah they are regularly tripping over themself and saying very silly things. 10/10 character we love Liz Anderson and Gable in this house

I am seeing people say that this Nicky fellow is basically trans! That's very cool! Gable is actually trans. Pronouns they/them/any presentation whatever they feel like.

Gable held a bachelor party for a BFF where the attendees hunted from their sky birds, wore dresses, and still managed to keep their eyeliner on point!

Gable killed God because he wouldn't let them be queer. They should rightfully crush anyone in their path.

Nicky Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

One armed half-demon man with a sword (also a Dedicated, Involved, Loving Father). (Specifically campaign 2, where he is an adult)

*Clanging pots and pans together* EVERYONE WAKE THE FUCK UP NICKY IS IN THE POLL TOO WE HAVE TO HELP HIM!!!!

Transmasc bisexual (or at least so widely accepted as such it's basically canon) dilf half-demon let's start with the basics

And by half-demon I mean the literal prince of Hell

But also simultaneously is Saint Nicolas get you a man who can do both specifically this man

Missing an arm cause his ex-friends tragically betrayed him and shot it off but he doesn't need two arms to show you a good time wink wink ;)

The betrayal in question forced him to be seperated from his also hot milf voice actress wife and their son which is sad but in like a way that makes him sexier

Uses his one hand to wield a flaming katana that he used to rescue his son from the FBI

Protects his family with his life very literally which is hot as hell

Big himbo energy couldn't come up with a good plan if he used 100% of his brain

When he does fail at things it's pretty cute honestly

Definitely played a variety of musical instruments before the whole arm thing happened! Maybe he still does idk he's a sexy mystery

2 in 1 deal! This man was born from the merging of two timelines! Kinda sick!!! Also two dads = twice the daddy issues

Nicky is just kind of a sexy name idk

You'd think the whole being forcibly split from his family thing would mean he isn't very close with his son but nope! His son adores him! They get along great!!!

PLEASE VOTE FOR NICKY AND I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER HE'S LITERALLY SO HOT

VOTE NICKY! HE NEEDS TO KEEP THE LEGACY ALIVE GODDAMNIT!!!!!!

nick close the man that you are

NICK NICK PLEASE OHMYGOD I WILL KILL SOMEONE NICKYYYYY VOTE FOR HIM I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU PLSPLSPSLSPS

His mom is simultaneously alive and dead

His mom bagged fucking two different dudes (one of whom FOUND HER DEAD in a different timeline, both of which are demons)

HIS MOMS NAME IS MORGAN FREEMAN, HIS DAD’S NAME IS GLENN CLOSE, AND HIS OTHER DAD’S NAME IS JODIE FOSTER, AND HIS GREAT SOMETHING GRANDFATHER’S NAME IS MERYL STREEP

HIS SONS NAME IS TAYLOR SWIFT

Lifelong pot smoker 👍 (plus drug flower user!!)

CANONICALLY BOTH A POLO WEARER (and yes, has all the stereotypes of that attached with it — a nerd, which is hot) AND A LEATHER JACKET WEARER (which also has all the stereotypes attached with it — a rebel dude person, which is also hot) [<- all widely accepted as canon by the fandom even as he’s older]

A part of the SECOND BIGGEST ship of season two, (Nark) despite the two characters only having one-two canon interactions (one of which JUST happened last episode)

Man’s a himbo what’s hotter than that

So many fucking names. You try to tag him in anything and he takes up half the space. That’s probably hot. For someone out there

This was already mentioned but so very very trans. Like. It’s basically canon

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VOTE NICKY WE NEED A CLOSE/FOSTER FAMILY SWEEP PLSPLSLSLSLS

Rock and roll(er)

Joined a group of thieves called the watermice when he was like 13

for a few minutes had a guitar called the Battle Axe of Hatred

definitely had an frienimies with benefits relationship with his childhood friend Lark (sorry ppl that don’t ship nark lol) (it’s canon after ep 44 hah)

LETS GO NICKY YOU GOT THIS !!!!!

I feel like the audio of the entire Nick-breaking-into-the-FBI scene should be propaganda, but I'm copying select bits from the transcript:

Anthony: Yeah, it kind of echoes up through the vent, like the beginning of Metal Gear Solid. You hear a voice that strikes you as ever so slightly familiar, Taylor. Saying—  ??: [a deep voice] [echoing in the vent] Where is he?  Anthony: You hear—  Will: Uh-oh, he’s hot.  Anthony: —a bunch of shouting voices.  [giggles]  Beth: Uh-oh! Anthony: You hear a bunch of shouting voices and people shouting for him to get down on the ground to turn off his flame. To fucking get his hands behind his back. You hear this rhythmic stepping forward— because his footsteps don't sound like anybody else's because it's almost like… y’know when you toss a little bit of water onto a really hot pan and it just sizzles like that? It's like every footstep he's taking, you can hear that— Freddie: Cool  Anthony: — and you can feel some of that heat coming up in this vent, even though you can't see him at this point. And he goes—  ??: [echoing] Where. Is. My. Boy? Anthony: You hear the FBI agent—the FBI in quotation marks agent—in the back going like—  Agent: [echoing] He's safe for now. If you want to go ahead and make sure that he stays that way, you feel free to go ahead and step inside the suite that we've prepared for you, my boy. Anthony: And you hear the hot guy voice saying—  [chuckles]  The Hot Guy: [echoing] I don't think that's going to happen.

...

[a powerful rush of air builds] Anthony: You hear—  [gunfire, and the air rush culminates in a burst of flame; from underneath the fire, metal music starts playing] Anthony: —plumes of flame exploding.  [a person’s pained shout, gunfire and bursts of flame continue]  Anthony: You can feel the heat radiating through this metal vent and it's actually beginning to hurt and burn your hands.

...

Anthony: And you hear blood—  [sizzling]  Anthony: —hitting the fucking ground and you hear sizzling and things boiling and burning. Taylor: That could just be coffee! That could just be coffee. Link, let's go. Anthony: And you are getting closer and closer to the elevator. And you hear that same hot voice say—  The Hot Guy: [echoing] Where the hell is Taylor?

Fourteen Fifteen (Friends at the Table: Twilight Mirage):

Body-swapping assassin doomed to die from the beginning. All their different forms are hot! The Gunslinger! The singer! The lawyer! The robot! The inevitability of death!

Literally what character has more trans swag than an assassin who every time they die, they get a new body

#ohhh i know it's a huge TM spoiler but somebody needs to link the elevator murder scene #truly thee fourteen fifteen moment

a favorite bit of the transcript, for good measure:

Art of Nicky by @llumimoon.

[magicalgirlmascot]

They're done

Submissions aren't open so let's hope I can put all of these in one ask lmao

First up is Tahu, featuring his famous flaming bat. He's none too pleased about having to fight a bear while wearing one of his nicer shirts.

Next, Gali, who is reading the kiddies a story about a powerful dragon called Tahtorak. The kindergartners are particularly fascinated by her necklace of fossilized shark teeth.

And then there's Lewa, who finally cleaned up those flashcards. He's dressed fairly comfortably, and while it's not visible from this angle, he is also sporting a man bun.

Pohatu is prepping for the Students vs Teachers volleyball game, though he didn't have time to change into more athletic wear.

"Children, this is dirt." Onua must be teaching his students about the rock cycle. Admittedly I struggled with the sunglasses, since none of the options looked quite right on him, but I eventually landed on these.

Not much to say about Kopaka, other than that he's probably in the midst of judging Tahu's teaching methods.

Vakama, ever the exposition dumper, is probably explaining something to the Toa. He's got a nice, warm sweater on to fend off the winter chill.

Nokama is here to greet incoming students on the first day as they load off the buses. I leaned into the Lucretia vibes you mentioned, as well as memories of my own elementary school principal.

Matau is absolutely not struggling through a midlife crisis, and frankly, he's offended that you'd even suggest such a thing.

Onewa's here spitting hard truths to someone. Either that or he's complaining about having to go scare off wild animals again.

Whenua's just found a book for a student interested in botany. Just be sure to bring it back in time.

Nuju seems quite busy at the moment. Probably best not to bother him.

And that's everyone! Admittedly, it's a bit tough to show aging in Hero Forge, so the Turaga aren't quite as youthful looking. Also, I might eventually do some others, although Hero Forge isn't well-suited for making child characters, so probably no students. Perhaps a Harkak? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with these, and I hope you like them!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

First of all you are a Hero Forge wizard???? These are amazing!! The posing and details and everything just looks so good!!!

Anyway I'm gonna lose my mind over these for a bit here hang on

I love so much here, like Pohatu looks so good?? I love that he and Matau have their nails painted along with Gali and Nokama, that's so cute. I like his earring and hair and facial hair too! This is a man I would entrust my theoretical children to.

Nokama is absolutely perfect? This is just what Nokama looks like to me now. She looks a lot like a principal I had for a couple years too, specifically the one whose office design I picture when writing scenes in the office lol. And Onewa is also just outstanding, he's the exact right combination of "local art guy" and "world's most crotchety old man" and I love his beard and his hat!

And Gali!! Not to be a lesbian but oh my fucking god. She's so pretty?? Love the Tahtorak dragon book detail too ghklghfgljfdgh

And Whenua's mustache and Lewa and Matau's jackets and Pohatu's sneakers and Onua's sweater vest and I also love how similar Nuju and Kopaka look on first glance but they're clearly still different and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

These are amazing and wonderful and thank you SO SO SO SO MUCH!!!!!!!

[minijenn]

So 

I just beat Tears of the Kingdom

Thoughts under the cut because golly I have soooo many

OK SO THIS HAS IN JUST A WEEK ALONE BECOME NOT ONLY MY NEW FAVORITE ZELDA GAME BUT MY NEW FAVORITE GAME OF ALL TIME BECAUSE HOLY SHIT ITS INSANE

Ok, enough screaming, time for coherent thoughts. Sort of. First of all, the gameplay. Its SO fun. Honestly all of the arm mechanics are great; I still need to flex my creativity with ultrahand now that I’m done the game but once I do ohohoho  it’s aaaaaaall over for you nerds. I used ascend SO much tbh, way more than I probably should have, same with recall. The puzzles are really nicely open ended in a way that allows you to use any of these abilities in whatever way you’d like really to solve them. The world itself is so much more fun to traverse using them and speaking of that world its HUGE. Like I’ve barely even scratched the surface of the Depths and I’m gonna be spending a lot of my post game trying to finally map it all out. I do wish there was a bit more going on in the sky but ah well. Exploring what’s there is still fun. The dungeons are pretty good, not the best the series has ever seen, but a major step up from the divine beasts for sure. Same with the boss fights. Though the final phase of the final boss was such an insane spectale like seriously I’m still struggling to believe something that cool happened in a Zelda game imo

The game performs... mostly well, though I did notice a few framerate dips here and there but I’m rarely one to get too worked up over that sort of thing. The way it takes a world that was familiar in Breath of the Wild and makes it look so fresh and new is outstanding. And the music? Amazing, like seriously this game’s main theme slaps so hard, not to mention the final final boss music? ohohohoho godddddd. 

Ganondorf is exactly the despicable piece of shit I was hoping he’d be, the new characters like Rauru and Sonia and Mineru are fantastic editions to the Zelda cast and I can easily see them all becoming fan favorites. Seeing characters like Tulin, Yunobo, Sidon, and Riju have some major time to shine was great, and adventuring through the dungeons with them is a ton of fun! The side adventures/quests are also a lot more involved in this game, NPC interactions in general are just more fleshed out, and there’s just so much to do all across Hyrule, which leaves me with so much more to still get to now that I’m finished with it (still haven’t gotten all the shrines not to mention bubble gems; I’ll be playing this for a good long while even now that I’m done with it) 

Then of course there’s the story which had me theorizing and second guessing myself right up to the very end. Like seriously, I yelled and laughed and screamed, and of course sobbed like a BABY over the ending. It took so many turns I wasn’t expecting and I really liked that! If botw already made you care about Zelda, this game took it too a whole new level. The memory cutscenes fucked me up and this game personally victimized my emotions and I’ll never recover but I love it so much for that. I’m already thinking through several fanfic concepts centered around this game even as we speak so yeah, like I said, I’ll never recover. 

But anyway, overall, my first experience with ToTK has been an incredible one. It was well worth the wait, even better than I anticipated it would be, and will no doubt go down in history, just as BotW did before it, as one of the greatest games of all time. It certainly is in my book, anyway. 

[unforth]

Okay, so, during the holiday season (during which I celebrate Hanukkah, Christmas, and my birthday... in 2022 all within the same 8 days... ) my mom gave me a "I don't know what you want so over the next year just tell me some things you want and I'll pay for them" gift, and I've already cashed that in twice - once for something I'll scream about excessively whenever it finally gets here (I have. no idea when that'll be. I just checked Amiami and it says "processing shipping," whatever the fuck that means.) The other time was to put in an order from @shandian-go's in-stock sale (which appears to be closed again?). The "must have" item that got me to make that purchase was 2ha Vol. 3 Chinese, which I wanted no matter what (and which I've already posted a little about the extras, but I'll gather them all some time and take pics, it came with SO MUCH STUFF ASFADFADG).

But if I'm already getting stuff, might as well get more, right? So I went through the rest and ordered a few things. The expensive parts were actually not for me - a book a friend wanted, and a birthday gift I'll also send to that same friend. But I treated myself to some lucky bags, because like... there's always a lot of merch that I like but don't love enough to pay the premium on "I MUST HAVE THAT SPECIFIC THING." I figured if I got a random assortment, odds were high I'd be entirely happy with everything in that random assortment, and it'd be cheaper than picking out specific individual items.

That order arrived nice and quick, since it was all things that were already with Mel in Canada, and yeah I was right, I'm happy with my lucky bags. I got three - one for TGCF, one for 2ha, and one for "all priest excelt TYK/SHL" (mine ended up containing two Guardian things, a SPL thing, and a Mo Du thing, which is about perfect since the fourth fandom option was Lie Huo Jiao Chou, which I'm least familiar with of the four).

Since they arrived (several weeks ago) I've been, uh. Savoring? Because I'm super busy and don't have time to really enjoy but just. poking at the box for a few minutes every few days has really helped keep my mood up.

Today I stole a few minutes to really start going through things, though. So, here's my TGCF lucky bag! A cute Hualian key chain of Hua Cheng comforting Xie Lian, a pretty pin, an adorable Xie Lian wedding chibi standee, and that gorgeous soldier Hua Cheng/God Please Crown Prince Xie Lian art.

As expected, I am utterly satisfied with this purchase. I'm gonna add the key chain to my keys today (where it'll join the Hualian chibi key chains I bought from ShanGo last year), and I really need to finish the quilt I've been working on specifically as a place to hang pins so I can hang the pin.

Whenever I next feel like I can ask mom for a little money, it'll be this - https://koonbooks.com/products/global-examination-chinese-comic?_pos=2&_sid=a2e0144e2&_ss=r. Which has been on my list for months and was what I wanted next no matter what, but has definitely gained a lot more urgency since I started reading the book, lmao. Now I want it like air. Probably over the summer...

(I also just today got a shipping due notice from ShanGo? I have. no idea what it's for, oops. I thought my only outstanding order was the Yanshen plushies but my memory is shot idek. God, this makes it sound like I buy So Much Stuff I swear I don't. With what money would I???)

[joecial-distancing]

Albums of the new year

MGMT Oracular Spectacular (2007): There’s a review of Spring Breakers that I really like, where the reviewer points out that it’s a movie that makes more sense now, in hindsight, because instead of getting Harmony Korine’s hot takes on America’s youth, you get a dead-on time capsule of a very specific time & place--a zeitgest, over now, that at the time didn’t seem aware of its own mortality.

I was thinking a lot about that when listening to Oracular Spectacular; I was actually pretty shocked to see it’s as old as 2007, because the era I vividly remember it from was 2011-2013 aka my college years aka a time when the hits from this were ubiquitous instead of showing their age. It’s another one of those where exactly half the songs on here got way too much exposure, while the other half you’ve never heard in your fucking life. Most of the unknowns were actually pretty fun, with the exception of “Youth” which was so awful it single-handedly knocks the whole thing down a rung of my esteem. Fun trip down memory lane!

UB40 Signing Off (1980): I’m slowly triangulating my reggae taste, for the most part this was pretty good, didn’t stand out very much, but a couple of the songs (”Signing Off”, “Reefer Madness”) are long instrumental pieces that I thought were really cool and engaging

John Lee Hooker The Healer (1989): I’ve learned through this project and after seeing Kingfish Ingram live that I really like blues, and this is tremendous stuff

Talking Heads Talking Heads 77 (1977): This was an interesting one for me; I consider myself a huge Talking Heads fan, but also their big deal albums for me all come from their middle/later years, like Remain in Light onward. So even having grown up with their stuff around, I never really checked out their earliest offerings.

All of which is to say I’m having a tough time with this one, I think I don’t like it as much as what came later, but I still like it a lot, but I struggle to get into the headspace of what I might think if I were coming to this completely cold

Madonna Ray of Light (1998): Outstanding side A existing in tension with kind of a dull side B. I dunno, this one really excited me at the start, but I didn’t end it with the same enthusiasm

Giving it another listen, am I crazy, of am I hearing shades of Moon Safari in this?

Oasis Definitely Maybe (1994): Knowing them only from “Wonderwall”, this was pretty good. At its best made me think about underwater cities, which is a winner for me.

iirc there’s like a fan feud between them and Blur? going off this, I think I’m probably Team Blur

Coldplay Parachutes (2000): Dire stuff, I was correct to give them a miss back in the day

Julian Cope Peggy Suicide (1991): I have no idea about who this guy is or his deal in general, but this was really interesting. Album length kind of uncalled for, but on the other hand a normal length wouldn’t have been enough to get lost in, which was very fun with this

Screaming Trees Dust (1996): Grungy, forgettable

The Smashing Pumpkins Siamese Dream (1993): Kind of mixed for me, fundamentally compelling, vocals have a weird quality that I’m kind of on board with, but also often the thing got boring

Nancy Griffith The Last Of The True Believers (1986): Spotify reactivated autoplay without permission, and it took me a solid hour to notice the album was done with.

Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band Safe As Milk (1967): Had to dig up a mono release because the stereo mixing was way too aggressive for headphones, but overall pretty fun weird folky mishmash thing

Soft Cell Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret (1981): “Tainted Love” is the thing they’re known for, but the actual highlight of this was “Sex Dwarf”. Otherwise forgettable Brit Synth Pop.

Pink Floyd The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn (1967): First time listening to a non-Dark Side Of The Moon or -greatest hits Pink Floyd album; since the last time either of them came up on the list, I head something about how Pink Floyd in general was kind of a predecessor to Radiohead; like even though the tone is different, both groups’ appeal lies in the sound mixing, and there’s audience overlap of people drawn to that.

Janelle Monáe The ArchAndroid (2010): This was fantastic! I feel like concept albums haven’t been in vogue for a good long while, so I really really appreciated how big she went with it here.

a-ha Hunting High And Low (1985): “Take On Me” is correctly the well-known song from them, but there were a few other gems in this

Pet Shop Boys Very (1993): Pet Shop Boys grates on me in general, and this one was done no favors by coming right on the heels of a-ha like that. I feel like by 1993 it was long past time to evolve past this kind of sound

Led Zeppelin Physical Graffiti (1975): Album went a bit too long. The number of songs was correct, lots to get lost in, and they go a lot of different places, but the songs mostly overstayed their welcome.

c. 2012 I was using Pandora a lot, and for some reason it was absolutely obsessed with serving me up instrumental covers of “Kashmir”. Which I guess was fine, just confusing.

Johnny Cash At San Quentin (1969): Johnny Cash is great and I like how much this benefits from being a live album, really shows off how charismatic of a performer he was

Devo Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo (1978): Foundational album of a low-key influential band, but not one of my preferred releases from them

Echo And The Bunnymen Ocean Rain (1984): More of a stereotypical ‘80s sound compared to Crocodiles, by which I mean less along the lines of synth pop, and more grandiose, lots of orchestral stings, etc. A Bigger sound that I think benefits them

Muse Black Holes and Revelations (2006): I expected to have a bunch of thoughts on Muse and whether their stuff has aged very well since my high school days when I was super into them, maybe some ideas on the distinctly Nolan-movie-style bombast, evaluating whether I still like it etc. What I thought about instead is how I never really listened very much to this as a full album, usually I just skipped between the singles. The big fuckoff Cosmic Arena Rock pieces show their age, but actually still land alright, but in between them are a whole lot of bad filler pieces that really drag the whole thing down

Orbital Snivilisation (1994): The type of techno that Strong Bad was making fun of

Arcade Fire Neon Bible (2007): Band continues to be mids

Dolly Parton Coat Of Many Colors (1971): I’m a tough sell on most post-50s/60s country music, and I liked this quite a bit

Tom Waits Heartattack And Vine (1980): Think I liked Rain Dogs better, he was sleazier for that

Tortoise Millions Now living Will Never Die (1996): I got excited when I realized it was going to be all instrumental, but it never really rose above passing the time alright

Arrested Development 3 Years, 5 Months And 2 Days In The Life Of... (1992): This is the most dated-90s shit I’ve heard in my life