#there should be actual consequences for this

[orcboxer]

Okay let me try this one again. The Trolley Problem sets up a scenario that sucks to be in. You either kill one guy, or you kill five guys. Nobody likes these options. We all don't want this be happening. That's kind of the point. It's a moral quandary. It's supposed to feel bad.

Now, according to a recent post floating around on tumblr, choosing either of the two options demonstrates "learned helplessness" and makes you a neolib sheep. The only correct answer, the post states, is to reject the question altogether. (Or to change the parameters of the question to include an option that saves everyone, thus eliminating the moral quandary.)

It sounds nice, doesn't it? Fuck this bad situation, we control our imaginations, so let's imagine a situation that doesn't suck. Hah! Bet you didn't think of that!

Here's the problem. Even though I think most situations generally have at least one solution that is both Feasible and Not Terrible, I have to admit that there are some situations (as in, not zero of them) where all the feasible options are unpleasant. This is a natural consequence of living in a world where A Lot Of Things Suck.

But if shitty situations do exist, even if it's super super rare, then it's not unreasonable to ask, "How should we make decisions when we find ourselves in a shitty situation?"

This is the beginning premise of the Trolley Problem. It says, "Hey what if you were in an unambiguously shitty situation? There are many shitty situations, so let's imagine one that is contrived enough to get everyone on the same page regardless of political affiliation, AND really emphasizes the key parts that I want to discuss."

Tumblr says "let me stop you right there. What if instead...we imagined a different scenario that wasn't as shitty?"

Well, okay, but then we're not talking about the same thing anymore. That doesn't actually count as an answer to the problem, you're just changing the subject to a completely different thing.

Tumblr goes on to say, "Exactly. That's the only thing you should ever do when confronted with an ethical quandary. Frankly the fact that you are willing to even consider a scenario that sucks suggests that you are fundamentally incapable of considering less shitty scenarios."

I just want to say I think that's bullshit. I don't think every problem is a trolley problem, but I do think that some problems are a trolley problem. And I think that those problems are worth discussing, even though they don't feel good. The trolley problem exists as a framework to discuss those problems.

Maybe our aversion to difficult decisions has an impact on our ethical reasoning, and maybe we should actually question how our ethical standards hold up under the weight of that aversion. So maybe moral quandaries like the trolley problem are worth discussing. And if you don't want to engage with the quandary, then don't - you don't have to concoct a whole essay about how the quandary is inherently morally bad.

It's possible that what you really want to say is that it sucks when people treat certain situations as trolley problems, when those specific situations actually do contain unambiguously feasible and unambiguously perfect solutions. I would agree with that.

But like. Let's not pretend that you can reduce all of ethics down to unchallenging black and white moralism.

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[prosciuttulipa]

Sub Drop Sweethearts

How the JJK men help you through sub drop

content: insinuation of a BDSM scene prior but no actual smut, lots of aftercare and affection

a/n: as a submissive, sub drop is no joke! Am currently going through it, so writing this as a way to help self-soothe. less characters this time because am tired. please remember to take care of yourselves after BDSM scenes!

Geto Suguru keeps you close. He knows sub drop is an inevitable part of the process, the consequent fall from a euphoric high, but he can't on his good conscience let you go through it alone. When he sees the telltale signs the day after your intense scene together—how you start to tear up out of nowhere or shiver from a cold he can't feel—he's scooping you into his arms, heart aching on your behalf. There's a part of him that blames himself for it, thoughts running through his head for cues he might have missed, things he forgot to do to make you feel wanted, because why else would you be going through a drop? Eventually, he'll realise that his worries are unfounded, once you come enough to your senses to let him know your low mood isn't his fault, just brain chemicals doing their thing. For now, he presses kisses along your brow, your cheek, your jaw, whispering praises so sweet they would earn him a spot alongside the poets he reads.

Gojo Satoru hates your sub drop. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate it in the sense that he holds it against you (and heaven forbid you ever think he'd do that to you). He just hates the fact that something that was meant to be fun and cathartic has such ugly side effects for you. There's almost something domineering in the way he deals with your drop, overwhelming you with lavish desserts and massages, like he's daring the bad feelings to try and get through his fortress of love. The showers of affection work, of course, turning your self-deprecating talk into giggles, your tears of sadness into tears of joy. It pleases him, because this is how things should be, after you so willingly gave yourself up to his control: you, surrounded by gifts like pampered royalty, any doubts about your worth squashed under his foot like pests. If your sub drop was a person, he wouldn't hesitate to fight it. But because it isn't, he'll settle for protecting you like this instead.

Nanami Kento does not panic. He knows that this was going to happen, did plenty of research into how submissives go into sub drop, the different ways it could manifest. He'd made sure to account for every iteration: food to help your brain chemistry even out naturally, a list of your comfort activities (organised by your needs and energy levels), and ensuring he had the day off so that he could spend it taking care of you. He keeps a watchful eye on you at all times the day after your scene, aware of even the slightest shift in your mood. The fruits of his labour are rewarded, as his constant maintenance means you don't drop any lower than slight discomfort and the occasional sad whine; in a sense, you don't have sub drops, just sub blips. His efforts might seem a bit overkill, but Nanami doesn't care. He was the one who fucked you till an inch of your life, and he'll be the one to put you back together.

[eriexplosion]

The thing is that the finale isn't even good outside of lack of addressing Tech. It just is bad all around. It's a bad episode that doesn't follow any of the established set up for season 3.

We started the CX subplot in season 2, and then spent 3 long episodes with CX-2 in particular. This apparently was... just to set up a big boss fight in the finale and for nothing else? We spent four whole episodes across two seasons on this and had several other set up moments! For a big shootout and nothing else?

And yes, the CX-2 is Tech implications is a big part of this. Some of them even remained in the episode. How else are we supposed to take Hemlock's line "The last time we crossed paths, you had just lost a member of your squad. And it appears history may repeat itself. CT-9904 resisted my conditioning in the past, but I've made alterations to my methods. If you all survive, you will make fine operatives." other than that he used those 'alterations' to successfully CX Tech? Literally thought that was what it was setting up before *waves hand*

The Zillo beast was used to rip open a hole in the wall so that the Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair can get inside. It served no other purpose and walked away.

We spent two full episodes on the m-count plot between Bad Territory and The Harbinger. This accomplishes nothing in the entire rest of the season.

We spent all season dealing with Crosshair's hand tremors, establishing they are a psychological response to trauma. So should we... emotionally deal with that trauma? NOPE. WE'RE CUTTING IT OFF. DONE.

A small thread was set up that no one is beyond redemption/help, we see Rex reaching out to a CX, we see Omega remind Crosshair that Ventress deserves the chance to change, and in the finale... NO ONE is given a chance to change other than Emerie, who already did last episode. Every CX and commando is shot down without remorse even though they're also victims of Hemlock.

In general we just have action interspersed with the scraps of what was probably a united plot at one point. There isn't even a cavalry arrives moment in The Cavalry Has Arrived. What happened here?

The thing is I can see two subplots that would have united ALL of these that almost feel like they've been scraped out and replaced with generic shooting and a generic and undefined 'and then they had a happy ending'

First there's the force sensitivity plot. This was actually set up as early as season one episode one, when Omega takes the shot at Crosshair and manages to stop him from shooting, and then elaborated on throughout when she connects easily with animals, leading up to Bad Territory and The Harbinger - where we see Ventress tame a large, angry creature through the force. So much is made of the beast taming angle.

And obviously we have a beast. The Zillo beast. Omega does not at any point interact with this giant creature to calm it down or do anything at all she just lets it loose to rip some stuff up, have some action sequences, and then walk away into the night. But these two things united would have brought all the moments of force sensitivity hints home, as well as tied in her biggest strength - her empathy and caring. Taming the zillo beast would have been the end result of her character arc and made all that set up go somewhere instead of trailing off vaguely.

And second we have the CX plot. This could have tied in the remaining dropped threads of making the CX set up matter at all, the CX-2 is Tech hinting throughout the season, Crosshair's hand tremors, and the thread of redemption and no one being beyond saving. CX-2 is Tech, reach out to him, bring him back and through that Crosshair addresses his trauma by starting to fix one of the consequences of his biggest mistake - going back to the Empire in the first place. It wouldn't fix his tremors entirely but would help reduce them, be a huge step on the path to recovery and a great note to end his arc on.

With these two subplots, instead of endless excuses for more action and grunting, everything gets pulled together for a finale that has actual emotional significance, and the thing is that all the pieces are there so what the hell happened to make absolutely none of them come together and instead it just turns into an action shoot out?

[ottosbigtop]

wolf 359 does a wonderful job with writing morally grey characters and characters doing shitty things with thought-out motivations and excuses but honestly I think my favorite part of it is how that extends to Eiffel. You have antagonists yea and they do really bad things like kill other people for their own gain and manipulate each other and invent “virus that definitely doesn’t make you sick and kill you” but Eiffel it’s just like. What if this guy just kind of sucked.

Like his persona is funny to you the audience but what happens when the funny comedic relief guy actually has to deal with the consequences of never taking anything seriously or trying too hard. What if you worry that you’ve hurt your friends and the answer is yes actually, you did, and you should want to do better if you want things to change. What if you make mistakes that do actually hurt someone, multiple people, irreparably, and it’s not evil science fiction antagonist mistakes but just palpable, human mistakes, and now you have to learn to own up to it and move on or just keep stagnating and let yourself rot. Like fuck dude.

[gi4hao]

the idiots you date — x. minghao

roommate!minghao x gn!reader

word count: 1k

genre: fluff but slightly angsty (mention of a past toxic relationship)

“you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are.”

minghao’s face bears signs of exhaustion that you’ve learned to recognize months ago. signs which started to appear exactly when he took on this new “big corporate job” as you often call it, simply because you’re not quite sure to understand what it is.

you’ve finished your dinner an hour ago. you used to wait for him to come home, but that was when he wasn’t working overtime most days of the week.

“they needed me to finish some urgent reports, i didn’t really have a choice,” he tells you before you can even ask anything. his tone is like a permanent sigh, but you know it’s not directed towards you.

sat at the kitchen table, you remain silent, fiddling with the rings he took off before washing his hands. the lights are dimmed, making the dark circles under his eyes slightly more prominent.

“how was your date?” he asks as he takes his plate out of the microwave, probably wanting to change the subject. but you doubt he’s still interested in your date anecdotes, especially since this one was your third of the week.

although he comes to sit right next to you, you carefully avoid his eyes when you reply:

“okay, i guess? the guy was nice but had terrible takes on most topics we talked about. well, ‘we’ is kind of a stretch because i was doing most of the talking. i think he was just here to eat good food and make me pay for most of it.”

“so… not okay, then”, minghao corrects you, and the silence that follows speaks louder than any word would have.

you’ve been single for almost a year now, and your last relationship was not exactly a model of good and healthy communication.

living alone after the breakup was a depressing prospect, and minghao was in need of a roommate to avoid letting his job drive him insane: a perfect match for two long-time friends like you two.

there was always a certain closeness between you, but living together has made it more intimate, and consequently harder to ignore... which is why you decided to ask for the help of various dating apps in hope to get minghao out of your head.

“yeah, not okay…” you sigh, mindlessly sliding one of his rings on your finger.

your gaze lands on the painting hung next to the fridge. one of minghao’s, which you insisted should be put up in your apartment; swirls of paint meeting in rosebuds and milky tulips. you can still see where the paint was spread across the canvas by his fingers.

with a tinge of sadness, you realize minghao hasn’t drawn anything in months. his paint-covered clothes were all replaced by dull suits that make him look like the people he used to feel sorry for.

“what time do you start tomorrow?” you ask, pouring him another glass of water.

his lips press into a thin line; you’re not sure whether he’s holding back a sigh of annoyance or just mentally preparing for an answer you’re not going to like.

“7. there’s a meeting i need to prepare for.”

“and when you get to the office at 7, are other employees there? or just you?”

“don’t start,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing his plate to go put it in the dishwasher. “we’ve already discussed this, it’s a dead-end.”

he’s right, this conversation has never ended well. but your eyes keep coming back to that painting, to everything he’s slowly turning his back to. the sadness ebbs away, giving way to a rising anger:

“no, i will start actually,” you state, walking up to him. “you’re unhappy, hao. you shouldn’t work for a company that doesn’t respect you.”

“yeah, and you shouldn’t date guys who don’t deserve you, yet here we are,” he replies, slamming the dishwasher shut. but his voice sounded more cutting than intended: “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

there are a thousand words on your lips right now, but few of them would be reasonable to say out loud. meanwhile, minghao is looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.

“but you said it. so now i expect you to either hit me with a miracle solution or kiss me.”

you said it without really thinking, basically shrugging as you know he will never take you seriously. the best outcome would be for him to never speak about your love life ever again.

but his reply makes you instantly freeze: “what if i did both?”

a rush of warmth spreads from the pit of your stomach, radiating through your entire body as his hand comes to meet your cheek, silently asking for confirmation that this is something you want.

your lips crash against his before he can even start to lean in, and the feeling of his skin so close to yours feels so unreal you expect him to push you away any second.

but instead, he matches your eagerness to the point where you’re scared you might lose your balance.

“i hope you like that solution,” he breathes out, leaving one last kiss on your nose.

in that fleeting moment, you reunite with the old minghao, the lively one who makes his own decisions and owns up to his actions. the one you fell in love with years ago.

“absolutely”, you chuckle, your hands meeting behind his neck. “…so i guess i can tell that guy we won’t go on a second date.”

“you better,” he earnestly tells you as he starts to take his black blazer off. “working from 7 to 9 will never be as painful as watching another idiot take you on a date. from now on, i’ll take care of it.”

-> rbs and feedback are always appreciated!

masterlist here!

[iamadequate1]

I wish Iggy had died sooner, so I would have been spared from reading yet another rancid take today 💜

Ed is one of the two main characters of OFMD. For a satisfying story, he needed a cathartic moment against his abusive father figure that was a major force in his destructive spiral, and they chose to adapt this catharsis using one of the only known historical interactions between the real Ed and Izzy (Izzy being shot in the leg).

For those upset about this point, I'd love to hear what they think should've been the actual consequence of "Edward better watch his f---ing step." Oh... right... they don't think there should be one because Izzy was just "mean" or "protecting Ed" or actually harshly promising to take him out to ice cream or idk, and Izzy is the main character and Ed is window dressing.

[osmundpriestt]

Reasons why YOU should watch Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency

What is Dirk Gently? Let’s set the scene. Todd Brotzman, a 33 year old loser with way too many secrets gets fired from his job after discovering a grisly murder scene in the penthouse of a hotel… where everyone was murdered by a hammerhead shark. Upon going home he meets a man breaking into his apartment with a smile on his face. Dirk Gently is a psychic detective here to solve the case, and Todd is going to help whether he likes it or not.

So why should you watch it? Here’s a totally unbiased definitely neutral explanation.

1. It’s Queer!!!!!!! Canonically queer characters (and Dirk… in his own category) play big roles!

2. It makes no sense! Dirk is a psychic detective… who isn’t psychic. Not psychic at all, thank you! Why would you assume that?

3. It crosses genre boundaries! Season one is science fiction and season two is fantasy. And guess what? They go together fabulously!

4. Elijah Wood? Elijah Wood.

5. Hidden not so hidden angst. Ever wonder what being experimented on as a child can do to your psych? Look no further, everyone in this show is traumatized and it is NOT swept aside.

6. The Rowdy Three. There are actually four… no, five. No, six! The Rowdy Three are originally one of 42 government experiments who escaped their captivity, now roaming the streets looking for fear to consume and something to smash. Oh, and they’re allies. Did I mention they’re allies?

7. It’s fun. It’s really fun. Electrified crossbows, flying trains, a purple people eater and a girl in a dog’s body are really just the beginning.

8. It’s sweet. It’s just a sweet show. The relationships built and the actions taken in this show are so, so important to me. The characters (the heroes at least) take responsibility for their actions, accept consequences and try to grow as people. What more can you ask for?

9. It would make me really happy

[irkimatsu]

Something tells me that Overlord Husk would 100% be a sugar daddy who loves spoiling his S/O. Like Husk probably has a lot of money from gambling I know that man is loaded. He just wants to snuggle his S/O and tell them how amazing they look in all the expensive things he’s bought them. At the same time he listens to you and respects your boundaries. Okay maybe not a sugar daddy but like a very rich cat demon boyfriend.

I know that probably isn’t true in canon he was apathetic to the souls he owned considering he’d deal them with other Overlords but dammit let me dream!

- sparkling heart anon 💖

Oh, anon, you have no idea how much I adore Overlord Husk as a sugar daddy. I don't even see why it should need to contradict canon too badly, actually! Yes, he was mostly apathetic to the souls he owned and gambled. He wouldn't have been able to gain as much power as he did if he saw those souls as people. I think he'd occasionally have those moments where something in him cracks as he realizes what he's doing, gambling off souls to god-knows-who like fucking cattle, but he has to turn that part of his brain off in order to get any work done. Thinking about that too hard will irreparably break his psyche. (He can have that break after his fall, when he's lying alone at night with nothing else to think about besides what he'd spent so many years doing.)

But then he meets you. Maybe you walk into the casino looking to make a deal with him in exchange for work, or maybe he wins you from a much more sadistic Overlord. He lays his eyes on you, and he immediately knows you're something special, like a valuable jewel, something he'd be foolish to gamble away like nothing. He immediately sets to making your new life with him comfortable, spoiling you with presents and trips, keeping you on his arm at Overlord events and making sure everyone knows you're his precious lucky charm and that he will do anything to keep you safe. Others have suggested he bet you in exchange for untold riches and power, anything he could possibly desire; but what could be worth losing you? Even worse, what could be worth ever putting you in harm's way? (If Valentino even thinks about you, Husk will kill him and make it painful.) He's so proud of you, not just for your looks, but for your talents and who you are as a person. He adores you. If your relationship with him becomes sexual, he eventually starts seeing his dancers and other clients less and less. Why sleep with them when he can have you? He wouldn't pressure you into any sort of physical affection, of course, but god does he love spoiling you physically as well as monetarily. (After he gives you a present, thank him with a kiss and an "I love it, daddy!" The man will melt into a puddle.)

He falls in love with you eventually. Love was the last thing on his mind when he took you on as his spoiled little pet, but those feelings soon sneak up on him, and once he acknowledges them he can't see how he was supposed to not fall in love with you. Out of everything he's gained as an Overlord, you're the best thing that's happened to him. He'll do anything to keep you by his side, happy and safe and loved...

...but what happens when everything starts to fall apart? He starts losing money and souls just as quickly as he earned them. He becomes more reclusive, sitting out of events when he can afford to. He gambles more than ever, desperate to get back on top, but he only ends up losing more and more. He's trying to hide how dire things are getting from you, but the surprise presents have mostly stopped, aside from the occasional bouquet or jewelry that you know didn't cost that much. And you're not judging him for that, it's about the thought and not the money... but what changed?

You soon find him hunched over his desk, looking over papers informing him of overdue debts and the dire consequences should he not pay up. They aren't just threatening him, but they're threatening you, something he would have never told you until you accidentally saw one of the letters on his desk...

He'll protect you, he promises, he'll make the money, he'll never let them hurt you...

...but would you feel safer if he let you go? They'd have no reason to hurt you if you weren't tied to him anymore...

He can't imagine why you wouldn't want to go. He's not the rich, powerful fat cat whose lap of luxury you used to live in. Here he sits in his trashed study, surrounded by debt paperwork and bottles of liquor, clothes and fur disheveled, eyes puffy from the rage-crying fit that led you to check on him in the first place. How could you still love him like this?

Climb into his lap and let him hold you. Let him cry it out. And most importantly, let him know you're not leaving, that it was never about the money, that you love him...

[cloverdaisies]

# THE LOVE POTION

eric sohn x gn!reader/ collab! 007 files w/ @winterchimez

— “you must locate, befriend & kill agent sohn.”

description: the infamous english spy eric sohn! travels into europe searching for an encryption that serves as a communication link for the secret service rival spectre.. it’s sohn’s mission to retrieve the device and return it to safe hands.. however upon arrival his ultimate distraction is you, can you craft the perfect potion that will make 007 fall in love?

genre & warnings: from russia with love! 007 au! 60s au! love triangle! betrayal & romance! mentions of blood! violence! mentions of death/ killing! but no actual character deaths! cursing! alcohol consumption! mentions weapons! kissing & other mildly suggestive themes! pls lmk if i’ve missed anything!

word count: 6k+

a/n: dt: @sohnric happy belated birthday bar 🤍 wellll … what can i say???? this is overdue !! do excuse my hiatus & messy schedule.. i would like to say a massive thank to @winterchimez for inviting me to collab with you for this event !! it REALLY pushed me out of my comfort zone & throughly enjoyed perfecting this plot as much as i could as a big challenge.. sorry for being so late … 🤍 please do go check out the others work for this event which you can find here and enjoy!

Devilishly you smiled to yourself in the mirror as you pulled on your white satin gloves and fastened a thin pearl necklace around your neck.

“Tea?” Your advisor of sorts, Sangyeon, suggested, gesturing a hand towards the teapot with a smile of generosity. “You’ve got a long week ahead, is it not better to relax now y/n?”

Sangyeon was a taller man, with darkish hair and buttery highlights that glimmered with sufficient light source. He wore a long black blazer with tailored trousers and a fitted white shirt to polish him perfectly. He’d been assigned to look over matters concerning your work, making sure you weren’t up to anything suspicious and meet your personal needs when required. Despite him being so helpful, there was something that irked you about his unwavering presence and constant eye over your activity.

Turning your neck ever so slightly, you grimaced letting out a small huff thinking of the mission you’d been proposed a little over the week ago by the organisation higher-ups.

“I suppose so. I mean…” You cleared your throat before chuckling quietly. “It’s going to be hard to fool one of the the top english spies, is it not? I’ve heard he’s a bit of a charmer. I can’t quite understand why I’ve been hired.”

“Quite so. He’s always got company you could say.” Sangyeon laughed in return, pouring the steaming hot tea from the pot with a gentle hand. “That being said, despite his charm you need to be incredibly careful not to reveal anything and stay on your guard at all times.”

“I always am. No man charms me. Id do anything for the mother country.” You reached out to grab the china teacup off it’s saucer and took it to your lips to sip.

“I definitely charm you, don’t I?” He retorted with a sly wink and a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

“Oh you wish.” You scoffed, placing the cup back down and shuddering at the comment before returning to the mirror to fix your appearance. “Besides, I have a dinner party at 8pm and I don’t need your loitering to be dampening my mood. Thank you for the pastries though, you should consider opening a bakery.”

“I’m glad you liked them. I’ll be back to escort you to your car then.” Sangyeon sighed, leaving the hotel suite with a soft close of the door.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

In England, the sound of a melancholy low trumpet hummed over scene from a street player outside, fading into the open window of a grand office. It was almost sunset, the sky tinting a pale shade of orange amongst dark clouds.

“It’s been 2 days since the killing of that agent they masked as you and you’ve got 3 hours until that flight to Istanbul! Do you understand the consequences if you don’t retrieve that lektor Sohn? That cipher machine connects their entire military intelligence and you’re walking around with a blinking target on your head! ” M recited to Sohn, between his fingers a thick cigar emitting a cloud of heavy smoke.

M, the head of the British Secret service, was addressing what was the assassination attempt of Sohn at a British military facility earlier that week. Sohn had been giving a mission to retrieve a soviet device called the lektor, a cipher machine developed to connect communications.

“I’m very aware, I’ll play my cards right when I get there.” Sohn replied, his lips twisting into a sly smirk as he was being lectured by the higher up.

“Very well.” M sighed rising from his chair, leaving his cigar to rest in a glass dish before retrieving a brief case from the side of his desk. “In that case, there’s 20 rounds of ammunition, flat throwing knives and a 0.25 caliber, rifle that folds it has infrared sight. Use this when you need it and don’t let it out your sight.”

“Thank you very much.” His fingers wrapped around his crystal glass of whiskey, Eric took a sip before inspecting the case with a smug smile. “I best be off.”

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

As the evening settled in Istanbul, the dinner party had began not being invited to sit at the table yourself, you felt quite disappointed your importance in the operation had been significantly swept aside. Upon arrival you quickly recognized a ruddy faced man with a well kept moustache, his hair turning a dark grey with age and was smartly dressed in the cream suit that had been described to you by Sangyeon.

“Hello, I give my deepest apologies for interrupting your conversation. However, I must speak to you in private sir.” You gently tapped on the man’s shoulder, watching him jovially turn with attention.

“Very well, may I ask your name? What can I do for you?” The man answered almost like a store keeper with polite customer service, as if a mask of required kindness had been veiled over his face.

“I’m Y/N, L/N, former agent associated with spectre. I have quite the infatuation with Eric Sohn, I heard he was travelling to the country this evening and I was hoping I could help assist his duties.” You replied opening your eyes like an innocent fawn in attempts to convince your ‘pure’ intentions.

“What’s your interest with Mr. Sohn? How am I meant to trust your being genuine, Y/N, is it?” The head of the British Secret Service in Istanbul spoke softly to you as you chewed at your inner lips nervously. Politely observing your attire, his lips twisting into a curious smile.

Sticking to the script, you began. “I’d be willing to betray this country, for the man has me quite swooned. Therefore, if you would be ever so kind to introduce me to Eric Sohn himself, I’d be ever so grateful. It could get me killed if you tell any other soul.” You spoke eloquently, your demeanour slightly mischievous as you attempted to charm the gentleman.

“If that’s so. I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you.” He returned a smile , turning away from you likely to confront Eric about the matters. Your grin almost resembled that of the cheshire cat, deviously imagining the plans success.

“Aren’t you quite the actor?” The voice of Sangyeon behind you caused you to jolt in fear, in case it was one of the agents unaware of the mission assigned to you.

“You just scared the living day lights out of me, can you not just go jumping out of the shadows at me like that?” You brought your hand out to your chest and let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s what I’m trained to do sweetheart.” He chuckled, patting your head like a lost puppy before pacing himself around to the other side of you.

“Seems your plans going smoothly, you have someone approaching you, west.” He quickly pointed over to where Eric Sohn was with gentleman you spoke to earlier.

It came as no surprise to you that the man was incredibly handsome, his smile as he spoke to the other was just magical it served as almost a charm and worked on people like a spell. It was a smile that evoked emotions inexplicable, love, desire, a false sense of comfort that could easily be used as a weapon for betrayal. It was no wonder he was the most sought after member of the secret service in his country, his looks alone could turn his every target into his puppet. He was smartly dressed like described in a classic black tuxedo, a briefcase slotted into his right hand, his hair an enchanting shade of platinum blonde that emphasised his defined bone structure, a jawline so dangerous it could tear paper.

Almost choking on your previous words that no man could charm you, you gulped slightly, clearing your throat and fixing your posture as he approached.

“Allow me to introduce you to Y/N L/N who I’d briefly mentioned earlier.” The gentleman in the cream attire held out his hand to greet you, gently shaking it with a two hands.

“Hello y/n, I’m Eric Sohn. Its delightful to meet such a gem amongst all these people.” He leaned to great you with a polite kiss on the cheek, gently shaking your hand. Every feeling of morality in your body shuddered, nervously feeling the limbs in your body grow weak almost as if you were one flirtatious comment away from fainting.

“It’s such a divine pleasure to meet you too, I’ve been dying to finally get the chance to meet you in person. I’m such an admirer of you work.” You quickly gathered yourself together and carefully spoke with a soft velvety voice.

“Shall we go for a walk in the gardens?” Eric suggested, his eyebrow raising curiously as he also observed your attire and features.

“I’d be more than glad.” You responded as he held his arm out towards you to link, gently taking your arm and walking you out the grand marble doors.

The night was darker than usual, with a dull moon and stars that twinkled pathetically amongst thick clouds. However the bright lights that had been messily strung across the hedges lit up the the scene warmly. The sound of the blue piano being played from the inside faintly bled out into the garden along with indistinguishable chatter from guests up in the main hall.

“I must ask y/n, what gave you interest in the British Secret Service in the first place?” He began as you walked the side of the grounds arm in arm.

“Well… I felt as if my position in the country wasn’t appreciated enough. I don’t agree with their morale or treatment regarding myself.” You replied gracefully, glancing over to the tidy man. His presence radiated that of a tough masculine self assured nature. He looked at you with suspicion, allowing his guard to remain up like a fence.

“Well it’s in my best interest to not trust your intentions immediately, but I believe the information that resides with you is incredibly valuable to me and my mission.” He took a moment to take a breath before a cocky smirk crawled on to his lips. “Therefore, to test this loyalty of yours. I have to request a map, one of the military base that holds the lektor I’m after. Provide this and you earn my trust, sweetheart.”

You gulped for a moment, you had specifically been told not to leak any intelligence or assist him in anyway. You couldn’t foil his plans by providing a false map either, your hands were tied and even he knew that. Him and his manipulation tactics. He knew sly ways around people, you providing this map would mean surrendering all your loyalty to the secret service and despite having feelings inexplicable for the man beside you, you couldn’t give up what meant most to you. You had to figure out a plan.

“When do you want me to provide this to you?” You attempted the mask the fear that lingered in your throat, strangling your words with thick ropes that made you sound as if you’d seen several ghosts appear before you.

“Tonight, slip it behind the fourth pillar beside the stairs by 10 and I’ll soon be there to pick it up." He smiled, there was something sinister about his words as if he knew that it would be almost impossible for you to hatch a plan within that time.

“Very well, it will be there.” You took a breath momentarily, his warm touch departing you as he proceeded back into the large building. He turned back to you a last time, giving you a sly wink before going upstairs with a bright smile on his lips.

“Are you out of your damn mind? You are aware he’s drawing you right in his trap?” Sangyeon appeared from behind one of the pillars outside, having followed you around the entire time. “He’s not an idiot, he’s trapping you, you providing that map will lead him straight to his plan.”

“Then you best tell them to prepare.” You rolled your eyes, watching his serious dark eyes stare into your conscience. “If I don’t give him this, we lose all trust. He’s not an idiot but perhaps you are, now leave me be.”

You breezed past him, making sure to shoulder check him before making your way back into the hall with a bitter smile on your face. Going into the bathrooms on the left side of the building, you took a pen from your bag and began to map out a rough sketch of the secured military base housing the lektor Sohn was after. Folding it between your fingers, you left the bathroom, discreetly dropping it by the pillar he’d asked you too.

You grabbed a glass of prosecco from one of the many waiters dotted around the function room and joined Sangyeon’s friendly conversation with other associates. Nervously, your attention wavered from the bubbles appearing at the top of the champagne flute, to over your shoulder where Sohn was now making his way behind the pillar.

He walked around it as if he was daydreaming, picking the sheet of paper up and sliding it into his pocket. He gave you a brief smile before proceeding back to his gaggle of officials who’d be overseeing his work in the country.

“I think it’s home time for us.” Sangyeon closed the conversation with a sigh, placing a firm but soft hand on your shoulder. You smiled at the group of men in front of you, before slipping past them arm linked with Sangyeon.

“The officials aren’t pleased with you.” Sangyeon muttered through pursed lips. “However, they understand that you sincerely had no other choice."

"And? Are they preparing?" You replied raising one eyebrow cockily.

"They can't assign enough men to cover the base tomorrow. However if Sohn gets his hands on the device, which is unlikely, they're use as much forces as they can to retrieve it back." Sangyeon sighed at the seemingly idiotic plan, his rough palm wiping the illusion of sweat from his forehead and loosening his slim black tie as you elegantly slipped into the parked Mercedes.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

The quiet hums of soft jazz fell across the café like a warm blanket, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and a plethora of pastries baked earlier that morning danced through the air as if it were a spritz of expensive perfume. Outside, rain fell like hail, beating the ground like drumbeats and forming puddles that resembled ponds or even lakes.

Upon first encounter it would seem that you had your nose stuck into an edition of wuthering heights your eyes flickering over the nonsensical words, so often turning a page with a dramatic sigh. However, the act of appearing busy wore you out like no other, your fingers rested on the right side of your face with impatient taps.

“Well… What a surprise to see you here!” An almost sarcastic voice sounded as the bell chimed over the café alerting you from the words on the page.

Your eyes snapped to Eric Sohn, neatly dressed as usual in a tuxedo with pin stripes, the outfit missing the blazer but tied together with a waistcoat. If you hadn’t been so stressed about the date, you would have fainted over his rolled up dress shirt that exposed his toned forearms. You would have been a mess, but that’s not the point at hand.

“Well yes, I do enjoy a morning read, you could say.” You smiled, almost grimacing at the script-like conversation. Finding yourself almost upset you had to talk to him that way, wishing you could genuinely talk to the man on a level that wasn’t inevitably leading to the utter destruction of betrayal.

“You seem like you’re away with the fairies this morning, what’s on your mind?” He sat beside you for a moment, his elbows rested on the table behind him. His face was just above your head, eyes looming over you suspiciously.

“I’m just worried.” You replied simply, packing your things into your bag with a short huff. Awaiting you both was Sohn’s plan to breach the military base that very afternoon.

“How so?” He chuckled almost, smile lines breaking out in his cheeks, his grin lighting up his every feature, helping you to climb down from the stool you’d sat on.

“Well, what happens if this doesn’t go to plan?” You looked him in his deep brown eyes that glistened so prettily under the warm lighting, his smile dampening quickly.

“In my way or yours?” He smirked cockily, turning from you to leave the café, briefly turning to check you were following. However, you stood frozen still, what does that mean? Your plan hadn’t worked? Your blood ran cold, he’d truly had you wrapped around his finger, he knew.

“Sorry? I’m not sure what you mean by that.” You laughed the situation off, watching as his pitiful smile broke again, an almost pathetic laugh escaping his lips.

“Don’t play dumb.” He rolled his eyes momentarily, grinning with a hint of mischief to his words. “You and I clearly have our differences. I don’t fall for this entire act you’ve got going on, sugar.”

You felt sweat forming in the palms of your hands, your lips begin to quiver slightly, whilst your tongue felt like it had been duct taped to the roof of your mouth. With a clenched jaw you chose silence, watching him smirk as you stared into the pitiful void in his eyes. His hand ran through the platinum blonde strands of his hair as he sighed, unable to contain his chuckles as he watched you drown in your own psychological mess.

“Instead of being confused, I think it would be more worth while considering siding with me. Why don’t we get you out of this mess of a life you live? You’re ordered around like dog and it’s not fit for a diamond like you.” He sighed pacing around you like a lion playing with its food. “I’ve taken a liking to your dedication, I can see you’re so badly trying to stay loyal to your work but there’s something else you can’t resist.”

You shuddered as his lips hovered over your ears, whispering words of temptation in the most insatiable manner. Your body still frozen in time had not moved an inch from the table you’d been sat at. Warmth rising to your features whilst your stomach rattled around like a brittle old machine in the dry cleaners.

“You know this too. I’m not trying to manipulate you as I have nothing else to gain from your companionship. However, I’m quite fond of you y/n. I think your intelligence is to be treated better.” He shrugged his eyes glistening in a way that presented his words as something genuine, something honest. His praise lit up fireworks in your system, you were on rich compliment away from detonating completely.

“I appreciate your words Mr. Sohn.” You began, clearing your throat gently before continuing. “However, I think you and I are destined to be opposed. I wish you well.”

You fiercely clutched your bag in the warmth of your hand, swiftly rushing to exit the sheer embarrassment of the situation. The once soft sound of harmonic trumpets now sounded like the chaotic thrill of elephants stampeding through the small confinements of the café. It was in no way complimented by the grating sound of a piano keys being smashed in a way that was neither melodic or enjoyable to listen to. Yet before you could grasp the golden handle of the door, you were beckoned back by the honey sweet sound of your name amongst the frightful waves.

“Y/n?” Eric who turned to face you a final time, smiled, not a classic smirk or sinister chuckle, a small smile that made his eyes resemble those of a harmless puppy. “Contact me, if you change your mind.”

You looked back with a blank expression, observing his relaxed demeanour with bitterness lingering heavy on your mind. A bitterness, a feeling of resentment, but what you would do to run away with him if you could. You’d be killed.

The sound of the café bell chime felt almost like the sound of a distant gunshot to Eric, at heart he knew he’d never be able to swoon you in the way he’d hoped. There was a small rose seed sewn into his heart especially for you, he himself resented the way you as intelligent as you were, could be used as shark bait and treated like no more than a sniffer dog. Unusual for him to grow such a soft spot considering you were the enemy in the equation. He sighed, clutching the briefcase he’d been gifted and headed out to do what he came here for in the first place.

The military base was fairly small, observing the blueprints you’d traced for him, his plan was fairly simple. The box-like building was connected to an underground train link, there was no service running for another half an hour, which gave him that much time to secure the lektor and catch the next train inbound.

A small ladder led up to a hatch secured in the bottom of the facility, gently he used his fingers to open it almost silently. Stupidly, the officials thought Sohn would blatantly try to enter the building through the main entrance, a line of armed men waiting behind the doors.

The operations room was a littered with different documents, weapons, machinery, cupboards the only option for Sohn was to scramble through every shelf hoping to find the device wherever it’d been temporarily hidden. Underneath a satin sheet, there was a black box that somehow resembled the demonstration he’d been shown of the device. However, as he opened the box an explosion of smoke popped causing his ears to ring as the distant sound of yelling was heard from the unmanned room. This couldn’t stop Eric, he calmly continued to rake through the drawers as the voices grew louder.

In the bottom drawer, was the box he was looking for, checking once to see that it was not another trap and the actual device. As he pulled it from its case, the sounds of shots hitting the wall behind him caused him to pull a small pistol from his blazer pocket. Shooting back at the guards, neither of them being able to see clearly through the smoke from the trap. Eric crawled to the hatch, lektor huddled close to his chest.

The honking of the steam engine down the tunnel relieved him as he fired up the hatch to warn the soldiers not to come down. With his back against the wall, the train narrowly passed by him with little space to leave. He elbowed one of the windows as it slowed on the tracks, hurling himself onboard one of the carriages. He quickly switched suits, and sealed the device in his briefcase as protocol before exiting the broken room on the carriage and proceeding to another.

A sigh of relief slipped his lips as he sat down with his briefcase beside him, he even decided to purchase a cup of tea for the journey and peacefully kicked his legs up to read a newspaper. At least for the first ten minutes, the sound of his cabin door sliding open alerted him to look up casually from the words on the page. He couldn’t quite explain who the man who stood at the door was, he was familiar but not a man he knew at least. He was dressed a long black tux with brownish hair, his eyes replicated those of fury, aggression, enough to alert Sohn at least.

“Hand it over.” Pulling a gun from the waistband of his tailored black trousers, his face remained blank as Sohn raised his hands in the air with a laugh.

“That’s not very friendly.” Eric tutted, standing up from his seat with the case laying on the seat behind him. As he observed him more carefully the identity of the man began to become less pixelated, funnily enough it’s as if everywhere Sohn went he saw a face like resembling the man in the crowd. “I’m not a fan of stalkers but I’m sure we could settle this with an autograph.”

The joke seemed to land terribly with the other male, his lips curling in disgust as he readjusted his finger over the trigger of the gun in his hand.

“Get over yourself.” The man sneered before looking Sohn directly in the eye with a cold stare. “Your plan is hardly turning out successful, poor y/n came crying to me about your twisted bullshit.”

“Ah yes, now I remember!” Sohn clasped his hands together beginning to pace the small room, the man’s gun latching target to his head. “You’re y/n’s little lap dog! That makes so much more sense, unrequited love, that must be hard for you buddy.”

Sohn’s words cut through him like a knife, the anger boiling through his veins as he struggled to keep his composure. The gun wavering only slightly as his lips pursed furiously.

“I’m more than that buddy.” The unnamed man laughed in a way that attempted to conceal his emotions but instead the line came out as no more than a high pitch croak. “Now hand it over before I turn your brain into several servings of spaghetti.”

“Sangyeon!” The sound of angry footsteps stomping through the corridor alerted the man, however he didn’t take his eyes off Sohn for a second.

“Listen, Sangyeon is it?” Sohn laughed, his voice sounding assertive despite the noise of the rattling train and noisy horns. “I think you better calm down, she won’t be happy with what you’re trying to do here.”

Sangyeon’s gun lowered, just to the point where it was out of sight of the narrow train passage but still somewhat aiming at Sohn.

“What is it?” He called, the relief of Sohn’s face when he saw yours outside of the window was golden. It would have been so tedious attempting to get out of the situation himself.

“I’ve been looking for you all bloody day! Now I found out you’re trying to leave the country? What are-”Your eyes originally blinking in red fury softened into bright pearls upon meeting Eric’s. Then all of a sudden they turned red again as you looked back to Sangyeon with increased suspicion. “Step away from the door.”

Surprisingly he did just that, revealing the gun that was pointed towards Sohn just out the hallway. Eric discreetly took the opportunity to assemble the weapon given to him as Sangyeon’s eyes focused on yours.

“There is no way, I’m letting you kill a man that’s not business to take care of.” You sighed, blocking the doorway and staring into the soulless void of eyes. “Leave here immediately. You’re only gonna end up hurt.”

“Y/N? Are you out of damn mind?” Sangyeon burst out into maniacal laughter almost resembling one of those villains from a popular comic book at the time. “I’ve spent years protecting you and you repay me by - I don’t know - falling in love with the enemy?”

“I am not in love with Mr. Sohn-” You refuted, the lies slipped from your tongue as denial spun its web around the pink mush of your brain. You couldn’t coherently finish the sentence without entering a spiral.

“Really?” Sangyeon eyes flickered with false confusion, his lips breaking out into a scary grin. “Then tell me why I can’t kill him?” He left a pause for you to fill in the space, but as your eyes darted around the room you realised that he was perhaps right. You couldn’t admit that but there was no reason to let Sohn get away with the device needed to connect the entire unions military operations. It was simply ridiculous.

“Thought so.” Sangyeon sighed. “It’s a shame you’d leave me with such a broken heart.” There was a glint of genuine pain in his eyes, underneath the tough exterior. He was always good at concealing his emotions, rarely showing them and acting as enthusiastic as a piece of cardboard most days.

“Leave.” You looked him in the eyes more seriously than you ever had before, you were of course furious with Sangyeon. However, you couldn’t watch him get hurt or at least die trying to defend a union that didn’t even value his work.

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t. You’re going to get us into a situation you don’t know consequences of.” Sangyeon spat his words firm, eyes bulging out of their sockets as if they were signalling your final warning. “I’d do anything to protect you y/n. Now let me.”

With that he pulled your arm out of the way of the door, only to reveal an Eric Sohn that was more than ready to pounce. Sohn tackled Sangyeon, wounding his arm but managing to throw his gun down the other end of the carriage. Sangyeon panicked, attempting to reach for Sohn before he could take your arm. He yelled out for you, the change in his voice causing you to whip your head around as Eric’s sprinting stopped.

“Y/N!! WAIT!” The agonising shriek ran cold through your bones, you gasped turning to the man as he rose from the ground. “Don’t leave. I serve no purpose without you.”

“I love you.”

The scene looked like a shakespearean tragedy, the two men on either side of the carriage looking at you expectantly. Sangyeon the tragic hero, the final villain to be defeated clinging to a last thread of hope that you’d take his hand and run away with him instead. Then on the other hand Sohn, a dream-like protagonist that had fallen in love with an enemy in battle, waiting to ride his horse into into the sunset. Your mind ran codes like a computer, processing your deepest desires battling the virus of conflict that had been hard-wired into your system.

“I can’t, but we will meet again Sangyeon.” You sighed, your love for Sangyeon was purely platonic, forced out of a system that took you for granted and fed you to the sharks. “Leave this line of work as soon as you can, you don’t deserve to be hurt this way. But I have to go.”

Tears welled at Sangyeon’s eyes for the first time in perhaps over a decade, he knew you were right, in fact he didn’t want you to be in danger anymore. Mature, as he always was, he knew your decision was ultimately the right answer. His love for you, was far greater than his selfish desires, but succumbing to your own was the best thing you could do. The only thing he necessarily cared about over his broken heart, was Sohn’s ability to keep you safe - he knew he would. As he clenched his fists watching you and Sohn run into the hills together he smiled, a chuckle leaving his lips, glad you had your happy ending.

“Where is he?” Asked a gaggle of soldiers boarding the train, their rifles over their chests as they marched down the carriage.

“I lost him.” Sangyeon replied, his lies convincing enough to deter the soldiers away from the area, as he weakly stepped off at the last stop of the train. It was a beautiful day outside, a beautiful place to announce his new beginning. He sighed, as he viewed the coast line from the train stop, maybe opening a bakery isn’t a bad idea after all.

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ📰☕️🎬ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

“You ever visited here before?” Sohn asked, leaning across the canoe as he rowed down the streets, the sunshine lighting up his golden skin.

“Well, I’ve never left the country.” You chuckled, causing his face to light up in amusement as you admired the waters surrounding the city of Venice.

“I thought I’d ask, I’m glad I’m able to provide such a romantic spot for such a beauty like you.” He winked mischievously, laughing as you cringed at his advanced his eyes scrunching into crescent moons.

“Do I have to be worried about all this flirting Mr.Sohn? I’m not falling for any tricks.” Your eyes squinted at him suspiciously, propping your head in the palm of your hand as you leaned across the canoe.

“Well, if this is anything to settle your worries. I’m in a bit of trouble with M for accepting your side quest. He said to me a few years ago that if I let romance get in the way of my missions ever again, I’ll either get myself killed by it or even M himself.” He laughed thinking back to conversation. His eyes that sought out reminiscence in the distance then flickered to meet yours. “When I first met you, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep that promise.”

Melting into his words, you laughed as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks and the irresistible warmth of true love blossom in the pit of your stomach. As your eyes lingered on each others, you observed the beautiful nature of Sohn himself. He was etched in the model of a greek god, you finally validated yourself for falling into his trap, perhaps the love potion you were casting accidentally splashed yourself. For a few moments, Sohn hesitated, leaning closer to you for a moment as you froze. Your brain almost completely malfunctioned as he smiled, lifting your chin with the palm of his hand. Finally pressing your lips to his you smiled to yourself, as the sun began to set in Venice, the once blue sky-line was painted like a canvas with the most vibrant shades oranges and pinks.

Despite your mission abhorrently failing, the feeling of true love and freedom was the most successful ending your desolate heart could have asked for.

Besides, the love potion seemed to be successful.. Eric certainly seemed smitten as your words fell on his ears like sugar, as you talked the past and other interesting things about yourself. Venice seemed like the perfect place to forget your lives, forget how you met and fall in love all over again.

fin. — “you will locate, befriend and fall in love with agent Sohn.”

[acetone4veins]

Adhd regina hcs

I assume this was prompted by the hc in this post where I mentioned Regina constantly spacing out.

Her thoughts tend to run faster than they should, which helps with constantly being one step ahead of everyone in every interaction, but it's not so great when she's anxious and spiraling about something and suddenly she can't stop her mind from wandering into really dark places

Had to learn how to mask from a very young age because her parents put so much pressure on her to be perfect, so she's been suppressing for years - constantly aware of her facial expressions and is overly careful about what she says. Used to stim by bouncing her knee or shifting back and forth on chairs but would get scolded over it and had to learn to stop

Has an excess of rings at all times to fidget with instead since it's less noticeable and they still go with her style

Easily overstimulated and it's half the reason she tends to snap at her friends. School is already such a stressful environment and sometimes Gretchen or Karen's voices are too loud and she says whatever she needs to to get them to stop

Being stuck in a hospital bed for weeks with nothing except her own thoughts and not being able to move was literal hell for her

I mentioned this one in a previous hc post but constantly humming or singing under her breath when doing idle tasks

Post canon when she's finally starting to let herself unmask she can ramble for hours about something she's interested in

She also stops being so careful with her every action and her friends learn she's actually pretty impulsive, and combined with the fact that after getting hit by a bus her sense of danger is severely skewed and she doesn't really give a fuck about consequences, she gets involved in so much stupid shit (likely indulging Janis's ideas I think, much to Cady and Damian's chagrin)

Also fidgets with her friends' hands or sleeves when she's sitting next to them I think. Just idly reaches over and starts playing with their fingers both for the physical contact and to have something to stim with

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

In two interviews released this week, Donald Trump made it clear that he will only accept the results of the 2024 election if he wins. And even more alarming, Trump—as he did in 2020 —is beginning the process of radicalizing his supporters to commit another Jan 6 type attack if he loses. Before we get into Trump’s comments, please understand that none of this should come as a surprise. After all, Trump attempted a coup and the incited the deadly Jan 6 attack on our Capitol yet he walks free almost three and a half years later.  When a corrupt person like Trump is not swiftly held accountable for his crimes, he will not change his conduct. In fact, he will be emboldened to engage in that same conduct—if not worse.

That is why for years I was slamming Attorney General Merrick Garland in both articles and on cable news for his failure to promptly charge Trump with crimes. At the very least, Garland should have appointed a Special Counsel to investigate Trump for Jan 6 related crimes as soon as he was sworn in as AG in March 2021.  But instead—as we know from reporting—Garland slow walked the investigation into Trump. Consequently, Trump is the 2024 GOP presidential nominee and if he wins in November, he will escape accountability for his federal crimes.

That bring us to Trump’s recent interviews where he is copying his 2020 playbook to both delegitimize the election results if he loses and prepare his supporters for violence on his behalf. On Wednesday, in an interview with the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel while in Wisconsin for a rally, Trump was asked if he would accept the results of the 2024 election. As the Journal Sentinel noted, Trump “did not commit to accepting the results of the 2024 election.” Rather, he stated, “If everything's honest, I'll gladly accept the results.”  But Trump then added ominously, “If it's not, you have to fight for the right of the country." Trump saying his supporters have to “fight” if he loses instantly conjures up what he said after the 2020 election to radicalize his supporters to ultimately wage the Jan 6 terrorist attack. In fact, at the rally on Jan 6 before the attack, the crowd’s war cry was, “Fight for Trump!” And Trump bellowed the word “fight” or “fighting” to that riled up MAGA crowd 20 times before they waged the actual attack.

Trump made these same points in his series of Time interviews released this week.  When asked about the potential of political violence, Trump should have made it clear given Jan 6, he rejects it and calls on his supporters to do the same. In fact, he should have mimicked the words of President Biden in 2022 on this very issue: “I want to say this plain and simple: There is no place for political violence in America.  Period.  None.  Ever.” Trump didn’t. Instead, when Trump was first asked by the reporter: “Are you worried about political violence in connection with this November's election?” Trump responded, “I think we're gonna have a big victory. And I think there will be no violence.”

The reporter then pressed Trump in a follow up interview on the point: “On our last conversation you said you weren't worried about political violence in connection with the November election. You said, “I think we're going to win and there won't be violence.” What if you don't win, sir?” To that Trump said, “I do think we're gonna win. We're way ahead. I don't think they'll be able to do the things that they did the last time, which were horrible.”  But alarmingly he then added, “And if we don't win, you know, it depends. It always depends on the fairness of an election.”

[...] If there had not been a Jan 6 attack, we could dismiss Trump’s words as being nothing more than overheated campaign rhetoric. But we can’t.  As the  Jan 6 House committee’s final report put it: “The central cause of January 6th was one man, former President Donald Trump, whom many others followed. None of the events of January 6th would have happened without him.” 

In recent interviews with both Time and the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, Donald Trump ominously hinted at a repeat of what happened during 2020 elections aftermath if he doesn't win: more election denial and violence incitement.

[dumbistsmartass]

saying something about every hatchetfield production

spoilers, some nonsense, zero consistency with what I talk about, hurriedly written text, and back Cinderella’s Castle, QUICKLY, the kickstarter ends on May 4th. Also I mostly won’t be talking about the message to take away from all of them because I plan to make that another post.

TGWDLM: the catalyst of it all, it set up many fan favorite characters. Also my personal interpretation is that the musical we watch is actually happening in canon and is being put on by Pokky/Paul. Also how much of someone’s personality remain after infection?

Black Friday: it does pretty good as our first (true) intro to the LiBs it works very well. We get more General Macnmara who quickly becomes one of my favs. It also adds a lot of my other favs to the Hatchetverse, Hanna, Lex, Ethan, and Tom

NPMD: probably my favorite of the mainline musicals. I really hate Dirty Girl tho. The musical version of Hatchet Town is better than the OST version. The characters all have really good chemistry. I love Grace as a warning about the consequences of using religion as a fear tactic, when she sinned and wasn’t instantly punished for it she decided to take matters into her own hands and became a bloodthirsty maniac. The fact we got so close to a good ending if Max hadn’t fallen is darkly funny.

Hatchetfield Apeman: I don’t know how to feel about this one, it’s an interesting story but I think shouldn’t have been the first nightmare time story as it set a bad precedent for a lot of people.

Watcher World: I FUCKING LOVE WATCHER WORLD. The horror buildup of “what the fuck is happening here?” was genuinely amazing. The idea of a paranormal amusement part made for the amusement of an elder god id so cool. I feel uncomfortable saying the work “Sniglet”

Forever and always: one of my favs, the mystery of the two Emma’s is amazing, and the twist of which Emma Paul chose is amazing. It does make me wonder tho, is Emma a robot in every timeline? Also im just gonna assume that Tinky is connected to this one.

Time Bastered: another of my favs, the way it connects with FaA and the very clever time travel writing were highlights. The Ted is The Homeless Guy twist is really clever, and the ending is tragic

Jane’s a Car: holy shit my opinions on this one is so mixed. I love the bonding of Becky, Tom, and Tim is so wholesome. I REALLY hate that scene. Also is Jane turned into a car in every universe?

The Witch in the Web: our true into too Webby. Massive lore dumbs sort of weighted it down for me but it was still good.

Honey Queen: god I love this one. The fact that the LiBs aren’t mentioned until the very end was a really good choice. Both Zoey and Linda going to any length to win was some great tension.

Perky’s Buds: I went into this one expecting it to be kinda mid, and I was right but it was on the high end of mid. Ziggy being NB and played by a real NB actor is great! The bird hive mind is genuinely kinda unnerving despite how cute they are. I personally think they should have died, then content on the rooftop with the fire would have been such a good ending, but the police showing up to arrest them packs less of a punch.

Abstinence Camp: again, one of my favs, I fucking love this one and it also has the best Nightmare Timr song. It’s a fun way of exploring the “if you have sex in a horror movie you die” trope. Grace once again gets some sort of power and abuses it.

Daddy: I have mixed feelings, it’s a genuinely interesting plot but it get pretty uncomfortable. The song at the start made me think it would be a more empathetic take on Sherman Young but it definitely fucking wasn’t.

Killer Track: what is there to say? Killer track is actually so fucking amazing, if you will watch anything from this list watch this. I’m saying nothing else

Yellow Jacket: not at all what I was expecting, but it was great! From what I heard I was sort of expecting a high school drama with Pokky doing his bullshit in the background, but I loved this too. Also the ending hurt me.

Workin’ Boys: Pokky strikes again, but I’m not sure why TBH. Motherfucker just decided to fuck with his one most loyal subject and for what?

[wot-tidbits]

Shredding day!

So what I am trying to figure out today is that people who claim to be WOT fans are getting excited that Aes Sedai are going to violate the Third Oath in the TV Series?

It is very unfortunate incident that for some unknown reason we have clear description of certain event from the books where no shredding between Aes Sedai happenned for the unfortunate simple reason that it was impossible to happen. As unfortunate consequence of that impossibility no Aes Sedai was shredded. The only shredding and the only bananas that were pulled off in the c*** was done by a bunch of men with swords. Not because it was misogynistic or something but because literally no Aes Sedai could violate the Third Oath. Literally. They couldn't. By the Law of Magic. Unfortunately. So the only bonkers set pieces that we would see on television for that particular scene should be done by 40s and 50s men (and some unimportant younglings) while Aes Sedai are being incapable to participate in. This is why the c*** was so efficient and executed almost flawlessly - it was impossible for Aes Sedai to shred each other in person.

Why we are talking about women shredding each other?

Enlighten me at what point the TV series will actually start selling events from the books? We are getting PR for the 3rd season already and we still cannot behold such miracle.

Let the Light keep you safe.

LightOne

P.S. Unfortunately this is not precedent as the TV series already showed violation of the Third Oath in second season which again was applauded by people who claim to know and understand how magic in WOT works.

P.P.S.

On serious note I am well aware why this is changed. I am not mocking why this is not 1 to 1 like in the books. I am not. I just point that such blatant violation of the Third Oath is not enough for anyone to ask questions.

[zoropookie]

👹👹👹ILL FIGHT U👹👹👹

"He drove Mc home after they got ditched"

MC didn't get ditched from the "date", SCARA sabotaged it😭😭

And drove mc home? Are we gonna forget all the insults he threw at yn?? Calling them fucking annoying and accusing them of trying to get his attention and what not?? Are we really gonna sit here and suger coat or gloss over his actions just because Ei put him up to it? Ei's obviously the main culprit here but let's not defend Scara's involvement.

"he didn’t yell or throw a hissy fit with Thoma"

AINT NO WAY Is that supposed to be a defence for him or smth? Thats like. even below the bare minimum. I think not yelling or throwing a hissy fit is the least he could do if he even feels 1% guilty about ruining a dude's career after being called out on his bs🗣️ BE🗣️ FOR 🗣️REAL🗣️🗣️🔥💯🙏🙏

"hates being in the limelight ,he hates being put on the spot"

It's...almost like he's a streamer and it's his job to be in the limelight? An influencer....influences people. And clearly he's shaping YOUNG MINDS, TEACHING THEM THAT THEY CAN DO WHATEVER CAUSE "ACTIONS DONT HAVE CONSEQUENCES ON THE INTERNET." (keeping in mind that most of his fans are young girls who let him get away with anything cause he's hot) WHY ARE WE BABYING A GROWN AHH MAN⁉️⁉️

"he obviously is bothered knowing the MC is ACTUALLY REDEEMABLE."

......he seriously thinks mc is the one who should be "redeemable" rn? And for what exactly? Calling him and his team out? Being a good friend to thoma? Has mc done anything inherently wrong rather than being realistic and human? Does it or will it ever compare to what the Inazuma gang has done?

(ITS KIND OF TOO MUCH MAYBE NOT BUT ATLEAST NOW I CAN CALL MYSELF #NO1YNDEFENDER 👉👈 me typing all of that)

dammnnnn you popped off 😭🙏

[kagoutiss]

oot zelda doodle i liked :’-)))