#but I have zero motivation to actually make food

[perfectlyhappypumpkin]

I have my breakdowns on fridays because that’s when therapy is. 🙃

#personal #me #mine #depression #mental health #mental health memes #I’m actually so serious though. #I feel exhausted #and sad #and nauseous #but I’m sure it’s because I’m hungry #but I have zero motivation to actually make food #prolly gunna just default to chicken tenders #maybe a salad if I can make myself want it

[shiny-kaibernyte]

begging for more drayton romance hcs pls! 💜

Ask and you shall receive💜

Pokémon Headcanons | Drayton (Romance) Part 2

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

Been storing up more romance headcanons for our toothpaste man since the first one of these I wrote. hope I have met your expectations 💜💜

SPOILER WARNING AHEAD (Indigo Disk Main Story)

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

He loves to hold your hand when walking around the school together. He has no shame in showing everyone you are the one he loves and the one who has a lock on his heart. If you are more shy, he will only do what is comfortable for you, so if that's no hand holding, he will simply give you a special smile only you get to see.

If you’re a Pokémon battler, expect to battle him on the regular. Not just double battles either, every kind of battle.

Forehead kisses. Drayton loves giving them to you, just holding your face in his hands whilst he kisses your forehead. It's very comforting to him. As an added bonus, whenever you two are walking together, if you feel nervous he will kiss your hand and squeeze it lightly, in a hope to comfort you even the slightest.

Sleeps like a log. He can be quite laid back by nature and can fall asleep on a dime. But once he is asleep, good luck getting him back up again! Throw water on him, asleep. Shake him, asleep. Scream in his ear, asleep. But if your poor soul is stuck under him when asleep, get comfy because you are not moving for a while. Try and roll him, and you will fail; he’s got you trapped in a cuddle lock.

Drayton can be quite lazy, he doesn’t like going on long trips. But with the right motivation, he would go anywhere and everywhere with you, so long as there is a bedroll and cover from the rain. Oh, and food! 

He once tried to cook dinner for you as a surprise, he may or may not have started a fire… Crispin was his favourite person that day

Rarely ever calls you by name. Drayton’s favourite names for you are: love, sweetheart, treasure, starlight, songbird and darling. Though, he can get creative and surprise you with others on the rare occasion, just to fluster you.

If you are sick, he will react in one of two ways, depending on how sick. If it’s something small, like a minor cold, he will just make sure you get plenty of rest and stay hydrated; he knows it will pass and that if you are walking around just fine, he won’t fuss. OOOOO but if you are really sick, to the point all you want to do is lay in bed and need a bin by your side, the world better step aside because he is coming through and is bringing every possible thing you could need and more.

His love language is physical touch, he loves to just hold you close and show you that you are safe with him. 

Your Agias and him have a rivalry with one another. Food is their best friend, so any time you make a sandwich, expect them to fight over them. Even if you make enough for everyone - they will try to steal the sandwich from the other. Agias has been known to just yoink it right out of his hands, whilst Drayton will throw a ball to distract Agias then chomp it like a Greedant.

If you are a gamer, he is your new player 2. If he has no idea what he is doing, expect to have the time of your life and no lung capacity. Because the things he will do will be way too funny.

Has zero sense of direction, he just wanders around and hopes for the best. And somehow, unlike Leon, actually ends up where he's supposed to be 9/10 times on time! Granted, he will not go the way he’s meant to, but will get there! You may have to go retrieve him from a cliffside at some point, though.

#pokemon #pokemon dlc #drayton #drayton pokemon #pokemon indigo disk #pokemon spoilers #dlc #fanfic #pokemon sv spoilers #kieran #romance #angst #pokemon scarlet and violet #fluff #pokemon fanfiction #headcanon #rival kieran #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #pokemon x reader

[derangedanomaly]

how about Bad sanses x Artist male reader?

Yay! Sure thing :D

BAD SANSES X MALE!ARTIST READER

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Cross, Error)

Nightmare:

Nightmare was the last one to find out about your hobby, and that's just because he's too busy to notice. :(

He was about to tell you about some important mission, when he bumped into you drawing a portrait of him.

He couldn't even speak at that time, he was so... confused. But also felt prideful you were drawing him.

Definitely takes it to his room so he could stare at it longer.

"You have a great talent Y/n, such a beauty should be hanged so it could be admired by many." Himself. He was talking about himself. "Do you mind if I took it with me on the way out?"

If you answer positively, he'll just take it. No questions asked. But if you answer negatively... he'll just steal it behind your back. 💀

Look, he just really likes whatever stuff you draw, and the fact you drew him, awoken something in him. He needed to take the portrait with him! (Bro is thirsty as hell 😂)

In all seriousness though, he really admires your skills. Even though he never really says it.... The portrait you drew of him is his motivation, which he also won't admit. Since positivity doesn't do him any good....

Killer:

Loves to watch when you draw. But wait...you thought he was looking at what you're drawing? Nah.. he's looking at YOU.

In his words, he finds you more breathtaking then any artwork. But it's not like he doesn't like your drawings! He loves them, he just loves you more. ;)

He thinks your face looks really mesmerizing while you're drawing.

Sometimes likes to give you 'some tips'. (Don't listen to him, his tips are actually really bad 😨)

"Use black for shading, it's gonna look amazing! I'm speaking from experience." He's not. Literally has zero experience, just said that so he would impress you. 💀

Sometimes sneaks up on you and runs away with your art supplies. (Annoying as hell.)

Overall a pain in the ass most of the time, but he's your ass. 😂

Dust:

Admires your talent, and wants to know everything about it. 'What things do you usually draw? What type of artist are you? Can you show him some of your artwork?' he's actually so cute...

After he learned about your talent, he returned day after to your sleeping quarters, and showed you his new knowledge, about your hobby, last night.

Also gives you tips, but unlike Killer, Dust's are actually useful.

You actually learn many new things/tricks that you never knew about!

He's a total sweetheart, keeps checking on you to make sure you won't get lost in your hobby too much. He knows how easy artist's get taken lost in their artwork and don't sleep or eat.

If you'd ask him to model for you, he would in a heartbeat. But it would probably be the most boring pose ever.

Hands in his pockets and shit. 😂

Gets irritated by Killer's wrong tips, and immediately leaves the room once he starts spitting them. He just can't stand the stupid bullshit Killer says every time. 💀

Horror:

"Oh, you can draw? Can you draw food too?" Was his first question when you told him about your hobby.

He's always hovering over you when you draw, which can be nerve-wracking at times...

So to get him distracted, you suggested that he could draw with you. After thinking your question over, he decided to try it out, so he agreed.

After this, he found out that drawing with you made him relaxed....so he made it his daily activity with you!

He doesn't mind how his drawing looks like a child drew it compared to yours. He isn't really competitive when it comes to these type of things.

He just likes spending time with you ^^

Likes to ask tons of questions. (He finds your voice soothing)

Overall, he just found his excuse for spending time with you! (And a way for him to relax)

Cross:

Your hobby reminds him of Ink... which he shudders at and... avoids you for awhile. 😢

But you could always sense that he, more than once, glanced at your art.

After getting over his emo sappy phase, he finds the courage to talk to you again.

Wants to compliment you so bad, because it actually looks great, but he's just...shy.

He doesn't know much about your hobby, so he won't give much tips. But if you ask him for an honest opinion, then you can count on that!

He's just a sweet little guy 🥰

Error:

His immediate response to your hobby is just: "Oh great...another Ink!"

He isn't exactly 'thrilled' about it. But he doesn't mind it, as long as you don't bond with Ink over it. (Jealous)

Doesn't know much when it comes to creation, but he likes to knit next to you while you draw. It brings you two closer! ^^

Definitely defends you though when someone insults your artwork. Deems that it's just cause you both enjoy artistic hobbies. (Knitting and drawing) but he's really just a big fan of you and your awesome abilities!

If you need any art supplies, they would already be waiting for you on your desk by tomorrow morning. (Stole them from Ink 💀)

Doesn't like it when you're being pessimistic about your skills. He thinks you're awesome as hell!! Why're you bringing yourself down?

He's overall just happy to be able to peacefully enjoy his hobby next to someone he can trust. (Cutie patootie ❤️❤️)

#sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale #undertale fandom #cross sans x reader #dust sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #error sans x reader #horror sans x reader #killer sans x reader

[inferno-0]

King Ghidorah x Kaiju!Reader /Headcanons/

────────────────────────────

Sorry for my English

────────────────────────────

* Although he was banished from the so-called throne on the volcano, he was still looking for a territory to live in. (unfortunately for Godzilla). But he didn't expect the presence of another Titan at this place.

* The three-headed Kaiju was really shocked that you didn't challenge him. It's just that he accidentally wandered into your island, where you lived your days in peace. It was strange that Ghidorah didn't sense your presence in this place.

When they met, all three Heads were ready to attack, but instead received a rhythmic growl as if they were invited.

* Ghidorah was still alert when he was asleep or didn't "pay attention" to you. But you continued as you did your business.

No screaming, no assault.

Monster Zero believed until the end that you were up to something, given your quiet behavior around it.

But the more they analyzed you, the more they learned and understood.

* Still, it has dawned on the Kaiju that you are not one of those who will fight to the end for the land or at least part of it.

You'd rather share it to avoid slaughter. But this silence that was between you is very tense and you had to make contact with the Alpha Titan.

* If in the first days they avoided it, now they themselves need communication deep down. And it seems that an unknown person heard them, sending you with a fish in your mouth.

All the food you brought them, Ghidorah carefully examined and sniffed.

But there was nothing.

Regular food, fresh and large.

* Kaiju understood this time that you want to establish contact with him for further life on this island, so that there are no paradoxes.

All the Three Heads were happy in their own way, but only Kevin showed it, the others hid it behind a mask of neutrality in your direction.

* For a while, you just shared a growl or a nod of your head with each other. Later, it grew to a deeper level. From soft rumblings to poking heads in the neck. Due to the fact that Ghidorah is a rather large Titan, he has to bend down to get body contact from you.

Ichi and Ni are reluctant to do this, unlike Kevin, who is eager to come straight to you.

* The middle and right head (Ni) can only give you peace when the entire area is asleep. After all, they have their own authority, which must be adhered to.

* On normal days, you often fly above the clouds, trying to stay out of Godzilla's sight.

* If you're an underwater Titan, it's much harder to navigate the seas without being detected. Of course, you've made it clear to the others that you're on the path of peace, but Ghidorah has to prove it somehow, or take to the skies again from prying eyes.

* Your relationship has greatly affected the Monarch, who has reached the two of you as well. Of course, they didn't go unnoticed, receiving lightning in the face and your loud scream, which tried to stop the attack from the Titan.

* Actually, it was considered a symbiosis, but with you it is something more.

* Going back to your interactions, Ni and Ichi love to complain. Unlike Kevin, who just stares blankly at your reaction, or even into the distance.

* Your gentle growl calms them down to some extent. Especially the praise that boosts the Titan's ego.

* Ichi was of course planning a second attack, after hearing very nice phrases from you, which motivated him to do it again, but your hard paw slap on the face made itself felt.

* Ni, partly silent next to you. He doesn't really want to show his true nature in front of your eyes. Sometimes he can't control his irritation at anything and everything.

*And San... , it's just San. He's glad it's all gone, and he doesn't have to obey his "mindmates" and get bitten by the horns.

───────────────────────────

Initially, I wanted to lay out one shot with Rodan. I think he'll wait until the next day.)

#godzilla #GODZILLAKOTM #godzilla king of the monsters #king ghidorah x reader #reader #King Ghidorah #KaijuReader #titans x reader #xReader #monsterverse

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 6: Credence

Contents | Part 5 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) Things come to a head as you return to the church for your niece's baptism.

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, sexual references & scenes of a sexual nature, infidelity, religious imagery & practices, refuge mentioned in this chapter is fictional. Readers must be 18+

A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait between updates. I'm sincerely hoping it'll never happen again. Anyway, if you enjoy this chapter, I would really love to hear from you. It's always so lovely and motivating to hear what people think/what parts they liked etc. Thank you all so much.

The bus turned sharply and came to an abrupt stop, sending you stumbling down the narrow aisle, the contents of the cardboard box in your hands spilling onto the floor. Passengers watched as you crouched down to scoop everything up, reaching around legs and peering under seats as people stepped over you to get off at their stop.

You staggered back to your feet, blowing a tuft of hair out of your face as the bus began to move again. You gripped the handrail and hugged the box closer to your chest, the journey to the next stop agonisingly quiet, besides the awkward clunking of a shampoo bottle rolling back and forth with every turn. You'd have to remember to pick that up.

The walk from your stop to the church was short, but not short enough to avoid the rain turning your box to mush, the soft, soggy cardboard beginning to come apart in your hands. It was a fine rain; so weightless it never actually seemed to reach the ground, instead it filled the air with a cold mist, clinging to everything.

There was a hall attached to the church; a large, open space with chevron wood flooring, dated patterned curtains and exposed beams in the ceiling. It reminded you of a primary school assembly hall; the bleak colours, scuffed floors, walls covered in bulletin boards and chairs stacked in corners. 

The place was heaving with people, voices melding into one steady, dense hum. There were tables lining the outer edges of the room, each one taking donations of everything from clothes and food to toys and books. You spotted June selling raffle tickets near the back, Father Benedict swapping pleasantries with people as he made his way around the room. 

You loved him in the black shirt and trousers, the flash of white at the base of his throat. It was the way he rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, rested his hands on his slender hips, curls falling over his brow as he looked down at people with a smile, earnest eye contact. You allowed yourself a moment to glance at him from across the busy hall; admiring his height, his build, the soft skin of his neck, the way his face moved as he talked. 

You waded through the sea of people, making your way over to a table labelled 'Carla's House Women's Refuge'. The lady working the table smiled at you as you approached, the curve of her lips slowly fading when she saw the disintegrated box in your hands. 

"It's raining," you said simply. 

"Ah," she replied. 

You tipped everything out, covering the table in an array of toiletries, makeup, hair products and tampons. So many tampons you could have built a fort with all the boxes. Her eyes widened as she stared down at them, lips parting slightly in an expression you couldn't quite decipher. 

"There would've been more," you said. "But I'm pretty sure I lost a couple of packs under a seat on the 57 bus." 

She looked back up at you in confusion, before shaking her head and breathing out a laugh. "This is- This is great," she said. "Did you do a collection or something?" 

"My workplace provides them for free in the toilets. Our receptionist accidentally put an extra zero on the order form last month. So instead of thirty boxes, we got three hundred."

She laughed again, shaking her head in awe. "Well, I don't really know what to say. Thank you. This will make such a difference." 

"No problem."

"God bless you." 

You stopped midway through turning away from her, as though up until that moment you'd forgotten where you were. "Mhm." You cleared your throat, nodding as you glanced back at her. "And you."

You couldn't understand why you were still so unable to say it back. It should have been easy by now; you'd even practiced alone, saying the words out loud until they rolled off your tongue. God bless you too. But whenever it was time to put them into practice, it was as if they became lodged in your throat.

You wandered back into the crowd, taking your phone out to check the time. The inside of your pocket was damp from the rain and you swore under your breath as you wiped away the speckles of water from the screen. 

You looked up to see Father Benedict a few feet ahead of you, feeling your cheeks warm as your eyes met. You hadn't been back since Sunday Mass, your last encounter with him still etched into your mind; his thumb pressing a wafer onto your extended tongue, his stern gaze as you knelt at his feet. 

You didn't want to be embarrassed. You wished you had the nerve to hold his gaze, to smile, to walk up to him and say something that made him blush. But you were embarrassed; stomach twisting, shoulders falling in on themselves whenever you thought about it. So instead you stared down at your phone, scrolling aimlessly in an attempt to appear busy as you weaved through the crowd to avoid him.

"Ellis...?" 

You turned around to see him hurrying to catch up to you, calling out to you timorously through the bustle. 

"I wondered if I could speak with you a moment?" he asked.

You swallowed, slipping your phone back into your pocket with a timid nod. 

He gestured for you to follow him, placing a hand gently on your arm to guide you out of the hall into the fresh, damp air. It was raining properly now; the fine mist heavier, spitting and bouncing against the earth. You squinted up at the sky, at the sun fighting to break through a thick blanket of grey. There's going to be a rainbow, you thought. 

"I wanted to apologise," said Father Benedict, softly clearing his throat. 

You turned your attention to him, eyes still narrowed but for an entirely different reason. You were expecting to be told off, like a naughty child whose parents waited until you were alone to chastise you. But his voice was tender, polite, almost nervous. 

He shifted his weight from side to side, running a hand through his hair. "I feel I might have been... harsh with you."

You sucked in your bottom lip, chewing on it as you listened.

"Being new to a parish is lonely, and it's not often I meet people who see me as a person first and a priest second." He paused. "I felt the lines becoming blurred and needed to set a boundary before they vanished completely. But clearly I went about it in the wrong way, and in doing so I think I... offended you." 

There was a long silence, his eyes fixed on you like he was waiting for a response. But you didn't know what to say. Mostly because you didn't understand. It was as if he hadn't eluded to the idea that there could be something more between you, like he hadn't preached of temptation and sin to a church full of people while deliberately avoiding your gaze. 

"Is that fair to say?" he prompted. 

"What makes you think I was offended?" 

He gave a breathy laugh, pressing his tongue to his top teeth. "Because one minute I'm telling you there are certain vows I'm unwilling to break, and the next you're on your knees in front of me taking a communion you're not eligible to receive..." 

And there it was. He finally mentioned it. You felt another rush of heat to your cheeks, the warmth mirroring deep in your stomach; shame and arousal all at once. 

"I deserved it," he said, before darkening his gaze and lowering his voice. "But I won't let you pull a stunt like that in my church again. Understand?" 

The heat disappeared; a chill rolling down your spine, bones hardening like ice, turning you rigid as you stared up at him in disbelief. 

"That's not much of an apology, Father," you said, your tone so direct it almost didn't sound like it was coming from you.

The corner of his mouth twitched with the slightest smile, and while it seemed like one of amusement, it could have been irritation. You were never quite sure.

"I'm sorry," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "You came here seeking a relationship with God and all I've done is keep you to myself."

Heat now. Pure heat. And questions. Like what did he mean by keep you? Keep you like some kind of crutch? A thing to lean on when loneliness threatened to knock him off kilter? Or was there another reason he found himself standing between you and God? Perhaps a fear of losing you to him altogether. 

"What if I'm okay with that?" you asked. 

There was another smile, a bow of his head as he took a step back. "Then it's a good job you're not the priest in this scenario," he said quietly, continuing to walk backwards away from you. 

You remained under the small shelter, rain pattering against the roof, murky water gushing from the drainpipe beside you. You glanced up at the sky - still no rainbow - then back over at him, watching as he pulled open the doors to the hall. 

"I'd make a terrible priest," you called out to him before he disappeared inside.

"Oh, the worst," he replied teasingly, a half-smile carving a deep line in his cheek. 

You understood what Mara meant when she said she felt overdressed for church. Though slutty was maybe a bridge too far. 

You'd bought a dress especially, forgoing your phone bill for another month just to pay for it. It nipped in at your waist, falling just past your knees, the straps thin and tight on your shoulders, making it near impossible for you to raise your arms above your head. 

And it was yellow. Sunshine, buttercup, lemon meringue yellow.

You'd reconciled with the colour. Conceding when Mara told you it was perfect, sunny, just like Soleil. You were even starting to like the way you looked in it, turning to examine yourself in the bedroom mirror with a reluctant smile. That was until Alfie walked into the room. 

"You look like Laa-Laa from the Teletubbies," he said casually, folding his shirt collar over his tie. 

"Oh. Nice, thanks," you replied, curling your lip at your reflection. 

He laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Is that not what you were going for?" 

"Obviously not." 

His eyes scanned you, watching you stare at yourself, fingers fiddling with every crease of material, sucking in deep breaths to flatten your stomach.

"You seem nervous," he said. 

"I am." 

"Why? It's just a christening. You sit there, listen to the priest drone on for a bit, watch the baby get waterboarded and it's over."

You imagined turning to him, looking him dead in the eye and telling him the truth; that you weren't nervous because of the ceremony, weren't concerned to pose for photographs or spend the day making small talk with family and your sister's friends. You were nervous because you were going to see him. But you didn't. Instead you gave a reserved laugh, smoothing your hands over the bodice of your dress.

"Good excuse to get pissed though," he added. 

"Mm," you mumbled. 

There was a knock, followed by the door creaking open and Gina poking her head into the room, all red lips and white teeth, expensive earrings dangling as she turned to you. 

"Sorry," she said. "I've just called the taxi. It should be here in a few minutes." 

"Okay, be down in a second," you replied. 

"Fab." She paused, taking a moment to look you up and down. "You look gorgeous. Like Belle from Beauty and the Beast." 

You glanced over your shoulder at Alfie. "See how easy it was to not compare me to a big, creepy alien?" 

"I don't think Teletubbies are aliens," he replied, entirely missing the point. "Are they?" 

The sun was shining for the first time in days. But the breeze was still cold, raising goosebumps on your bare arms as you walked along the path through the church gardens. The grass was speckled with daisies, clusters of bluebells and wilting daffodils; a reminder that spring had still persevered, flowers managing to bloom despite stormy skies. 

When you walked inside, you found yourself hesitating for a moment, slowing to a stop in the middle of the foyer as if the soles of your shoes had stuck to the old, dusty pink carpet. Alfie and Gina didn't notice you'd fallen behind, the pair of them disappearing through the doors of the chapel without looking back. You were glad for it; grateful to have a moment alone, to breathe slowly and smooth your hands over your dress one last time without their eyes on you. 

Mara was stood near the front of the chapel with the baby in her arms, greeting people with a smile that - even from a distance - you could tell was nothing more than a mask. You knew because you did it too; the 'stressy smile', your mother would call it, like someone had taken pins and stuck the corners of your mouth in place.

You watched as Gina strolled down the aisle, opening her arms and leaning forward to hug your mother sat in the pews. Alfie had slowed his pace, allowing you to catch up to him and reaching out his hand, fingers locking between yours. 

Over the course of your relationship, it had become automatic for him to take your hand before plunging into a sea of people; adhering himself to you like a life jacket to stop you drowning in the chaos. It was something you liked about him, how he always kept you afloat even when all you wanted to do was sink. 

But this was your sea. And here, his hand was a heavy, burdensome cinder block. 

Mara glanced over at you and you met her gaze with your own 'stressy smile'. But your lips slowly began coming together again when you noticed the tall figure standing behind her. He was talking to your grandmother, dressed in his white alb, a purple and gold stole draped around his neck. His hands were clasped in front of him, long fingers locked together the same way Alfie's were grasping yours. 

It didn't take long for him to notice you, his eyes flitting away from your grandmother and immediately falling to your hand; watching Alfie's thumb as it absentmindedly stroked the side of your finger. You tried to swallow but it was sticking, as if all the moisture had drained from your mouth and was seeping out of your palm. 

"Your hand's so sweaty," said Alfie.

"I know, sorry," you replied, pulling it away and drying it on your dress. 

Father Benedict was still looking at you, his expression so calm; soft lips and glassy eyes, void of smile lines, smooth like marble. But there was an occasional pulse in his jaw, a hairline crack in the enamel, undetectable unless you knew where to look for it. 

It seemed the sight of Alfie touching you had bothered him, and you didn't know whether to repent or to relish in it. It was as though up until now, 'the boyfriend' had been nothing more than a tale; a character made up of words and sighs and frustrated growls, a thing that remained tucked away within the stories you told. Yet now he was here, a real, tangible person existing in the very place you'd been coming to escape him. Bringing him here had breached your haven, drove the pin right into the centre of the bubble. And your priest clearly didn't like it.

"Is that him?" asked Alfie. 

"Hm?"

"The priest you've been volunteering for..." 

"Oh, yeah," you replied. "Here, let's... Let's just sit here." 

You pushed him gently towards an empty pew, forgoing greeting your family in desperation to sit down, to melt away behind the row of people in front. 

But he resisted your ushering, stopping and turning to look at you. "Don't you want to go up and say hi?" 

"No, fuck- just sit down," you hissed, more harshly than you'd intended. 

His top lip curled in a blend of confusion and indignation as he lowered himself to the wooden bench, crossing his arms like a disgruntled child.

You sat down beside him, allowing a single glance towards Father Benedict, watching his face return to a warm smile as he focused back on your grandmother. 

"He's fit," whispered Gina as she plonked herself - too close - beside you. 

"What?" you whispered back. 

She nodded towards the priest with an impish smirk. "I knew it. I said it, didn't I, I said there was a reason you were coming to church so much." 

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head. "To perv on a priest?" 

"I would." 

"I don't doubt that." 

"Is he one of those celibate ones?"

You looked at her, eyelids heavy with dour.

"Is that a yes? No? Maybe?" 

"What are you doing all the way back here?" asked Mara, approaching you hastily. 

You never thought you'd find the sound of your sister's voice a relief, but you were glad for the interruption, exhaling a long breath you didn't even realise you'd been holding.

"Come and sit up front," she demanded.

You craned your neck, peering over to the front row where your parents sat next to each other in stony silence. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen them in the same room, at least not without screaming at one another; dad's beetroot face, the bulging vein in mum's forehead. 

"I'd rather not be up there when mum and dad start throwing punches," you said.

"They're being good. I threatened them." 

You laughed softly. "It's fine, I'll stay here." 

She huffed, looking over her shoulder towards Father Benedict before leaning down to speak through gritted teeth. "Look, I need you to be Soleil's Godmother." 

"What?" 

"It was supposed to be my friend Becca but she's not fucking turned up. I knew she'd go and pull something like this." 

"Ah yeah," said Alfie. "Just what you want in a godparent. Flakiness." 

She snarled at him before turning her attention back to you. "Come on, you're Soleil's aunt-"

"And yet you didn't think to ask me in the first place..." 

"Ellis, please, you're my sister." 

"Yeah, and 90% of the time you can't stand me." 

"Oh, go on, it's sweet," said Gina, leaning in to whisper to you. "Plus, you'll be closer to your forbidden lover up there." 

"That's not funny." 

"Ellis," said Mara, staring sincerely into your eyes. "Please."

You'd never held a baby before; unsure of where to put your hands, worried you were squeezing too hard or that she might suddenly leap out of your grasp onto the hard chapel floor. You were holding her like a bag of flour, outstretched in front of you, fingers and thumbs hooked under each armpit as she dangled in your hold.

Alfie and Gina were laughing at you from the pews, watching as Mara repositioned you like a mannequin in a shop window; tapping her hand on your hip and instructing you to jut it out as she sat the baby there, taking your arms and wrapping them both around her. 

You looked down at her, all chubby cheeks and round eyes too big for her face, staring up at you curiously as though she was just as perturbed by the whole thing as you were.

"Is it your will as the parents and godparents of Soleil that she should be baptised in the faith of the Church, which we have all professed with you?" asked Father Benedict.

"It is," said Mara, Nathan and Nathan's brother Freddie. 

"It is," you muttered along with them. 

A godmother. The notion felt quite surreal, as if this child was about to be promised to you like some kind of heirloom. But surely they wouldn't really expect you to raise her if they died. Surely they wouldn't trust you with the school fundraisers and doctors appointments and birthday parties. What about sex talk? Bullies? What if she threw up and you had to clean it? 

They better not die on me, you thought, that would be such a Mara thing to do. 

"If you could all come with me," said Father Benedict. 

You handed the baby back to your sister as you followed them over to the large stone font. You could still hear Gina giggling, trying your best to ignore her - as you often seemed to do lately - letting her fade into the background like the buzzing of a fly. 

"I baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." 

A shrill cry burst through the chapel, the baby wailing and wriggling as Father Benedict poured water over her head. You watched him shush her gently, giving a warm, reassuring smile to her parents. God, he was beautiful. The kind of beautiful you never really see in person; rare, ethereal, an amalgamation of softness and strength. It made sense, in a way, that someone who looked so much like a fallen angel would believe such a thing could exist at all. 

The procession finished with a hymn. You glared at Alfie and Gina as they laughed and joked through the entire song like a pair of school children. A few months ago, it probably wouldn't have bothered you, you might have even joined in. But it was as if you'd outgrown them, like your favourite pair of shoes were suddenly too tight on your feet. 

"We've organised a bit of a do in the pub next door," said Mara, addressing the entire assembly. "So if you all want to head over we'll see you there." 

The church began to empty. You hovered near the front, waiting for something, though you weren't sure what. You'd gotten so used to hanging around after a service, watching the chapel turn quiet until you were the only person left. It felt unnatural to leave with the crowd. 

"Father, we'd love it if you popped in for a drink," you heard Mara say behind you. "Priests can drink, can't they?" 

You closed your eyes at the sound of his throaty laugh, turning your head to listen. 

"That's very nice of you," he said. "But really, I better not-"

"You should come," you said cheerfully, turning to face them. 

The pulse in his jaw returned. He swallowed, preparing to decline again. 

"Just one drink," you insisted. "It's the least we can do, y'know, to thank you for getting all of this done so quickly." 

There was a buffet table against the back wall of the pub, an arch of yellow and pearly white balloons curving over it like a rainbow. A banner was draped above the bar, Soleil Cain Cassidy in elegant scripture. Her middle name was Cain, something you'd only discovered an hour ago during her baptism. It caught you off guard to hear your brother's name without the sombre tone that usually accompanied it, made you wonder if your family hadn't thought to tell you when she was first born, or if you simply hadn't paid attention. 

"Right, what do you guys want to drink?" asked Gina as she slipped out from behind your table. 

"Just a pint," Alfie replied. 

"Er, whatever you're having," you said distractedly, eyes trailing around the small pub. 

She strode off towards the bar, saying hello to members of your family who you were certain had always liked her more than you. She was vibrant, confident, good with small talk, all the things that never came naturally to you. 

"You know she's going to come back with tequila or something," Alfie joked.

"Hm? Oh, yeah probably." 

His eyes narrowed and he shuffled slightly closer to you. "Are you okay?"

Father Benedict was standing at the bar chatting with the pub landlord. You watched as Gina approached, saying something to him that made him laugh. It shouldn't have bothered you, yet you felt a heavy, dense pit forming in your stomach.

"Ellis..." 

You peeled your eyes away, shaking your head at Alfie with a smile. "I'm fine, just tired." 

"Mm, I'm not surprised, we were up late last night." 

You groaned, rolling your eyes. 

"What?" He laughed before lowering his voice. "You've been fucking like a champ lately." 

The pit in your stomach began to flood with an unsettling feeling, as though sleeping with your own boyfriend was a cause for embarrassment, guilt, shame. It was true something had been unlocked in you, a carnal desire that couldn't be sated no matter how many times you slipped into the shower with him, or took him by the hand and led him up to your room. But he was merely a device in it all; a sex toy with hot breath and a beating heart, a mouth that sought out your breasts and a cock that never quite hit the right spots. You'd discovered the ability to replace him in those intimate moments, to close your eyes as he pushed inside you and feel him morph into someone else entirely; a person whose touch you craved, who made you clamp your lips shut to stop the wrong name falling from them. 

"Can you not say things like that when my nan's at the next table?" you muttered.

Alfie chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh as Gina returned with your drinks. You noticed her gaze fall to his hand, then back up to you with a raised eyebrow. 

"Just got us a white wine each," she said, setting a glass down in front of you. "Can you believe they don't do Aperol here?" 

"It's a parish pub," you said. "I'm surprised they even had this."

Alfie took a gulp of his beer, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

"The priest's jealous," said Gina.

"What?" You furrowed your brow, looking over to see Father Benedict's eyes on you. 

He looked away almost immediately, tugging at his collar as if it was suddenly too tight around his neck. 

"Oh yeah?" Alfie smirked, letting his fingers travel further up the inside of your leg. "Shall we give him a show?"

"It's my fucking niece's christening," you snipped, pushing him away. "Stop being vulgar."

"Look, now she's trying to act all virginal because she knows he's watching," Gina teased. 

The pit was turning into a pyre, heat smouldering deep in your gut. This woman was supposed to be your best friend, yet every time she opened her mouth, it only seemed to accelerate the flame. 

"Will you stop with the fucking priest jokes?" you scolded. "Do you think it's funny to insinuate I've got something going on with another man right in front of my boyfriend?" 

Her back straightened, as though she was surprised by your hostility. 

"It's alright, she's been making jokes about the two of you for months," said Alfie calmly. "I think it's funny-"

"Yeah well I don't." 

She pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek and took a sip of her wine. "Me thinks the lady does protest a lot." 

"It's 'the lady doth protest too much, methinks'," you corrected. "Fucking hell." 

"Bitch," she muttered under her breath, before rising from her seat and snatching her bag off the table. 

"Where are you going?" asked Alfie. 

"For a cigarette," she snapped. 

You took a deep breath in through your nose, blowing it out slowly as you lifted the glass to your lips again. "I don't even like wine. We've been friends for how long, you'd think she'd know that." 

"I'm going to see if she's okay..." 

You glared at him, pausing for a moment to compose yourself. "Yeah, fine, whatever." 

The air had felt so quiet, yet now you were sitting alone, the hum inside the pub began to return. There were children running around a small clearing in the middle of the room, people queuing at the buffet, a DJ playing music. You looked back over to Father Benedict, your cheeks warming at the realisation that he'd witnessed it all.

He placed his glass on the bar and began walking away. You watched as he disappeared into the room at the back of the pub. It wasn't an invitation, but still you found yourself standing up and following him, pushing through the door that led to the room where he hosted his weekly group sessions.

He was moving the foldable chairs, dragging them into a circle, metal legs scraping against the old linoleum floor. You stood quietly, observing, until finally he glanced up at you, unsurprised to see you there. 

"Hi," he said simply. 

"Hi." 

He noticed you looking at the chairs and cleared his throat. "I er, I have a bible study session tomorrow, thought I might as well set up now since I'm here." 

You nodded, making your way over to the half-made circle and sitting down.

He remained quiet for a while, staring down at you, before continuing his work. "It was nice of your sister to invite me. It's not often I get to join in with the after bit."

You nodded again, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"You have a nice family," he said. 

You breathed out a laugh.

"You do," he insisted, laughing too.

You sat in silence for a little while, unmoving as he set up the room around you; clearing the table where he liked to put the bottled water and stacking the leftover chairs in the corner. You watched as he mopped his brow with a handkerchief from his pocket, his cheeks slightly flushed, though you weren't sure if it was from the heat or whatever he'd been drinking. 

He sat down opposite you on the other side of the circle, fingers clasped together and hanging between his parted legs. It felt like you were in one of his sessions, about to be counselled, asked to share.

"I like your dress," he said simply. 

"I look like an egg yolk." 

He chuckled. "Nah, you look beautiful." 

A familiar feeling thickened the air around you, another slip of the tongue you'd grown to expect but never got used to.

"Can I ask you a question..." you said. 

He shifted in his seat.

"It's a... religion-y question," you added. 

"Religion-y, another great word to add to the vocabulary." 

You smiled to yourself before looking across to him again. "Can I?" 

"Of course."

"Not committing adultery is one of the commandments, right?" 

"Mhm."

You swallowed. "What exactly falls under that term?" 

He furrowed his brow in thought, crossing one leg over the other. "I think you're going to have to elaborate." 

"Well, would someone be breaking that commandment if their physical form was with one person, but their mind was with someone else?" 

"I'm afraid I'm still not quite getting it..." 

"Okay." You uncrossed your arms, gripping the base of your chair with both hands as you sat forward. "Lately, every time I have sex with my boyfriend, I've been imaging he's... someone else. Is that adultery?" 

It was so quiet you could hear the birds outside, the passing of traffic, glasses clinking in the main room of the pub. You couldn't believe you'd just said it; admitted something so embarrassing, so awful. His clear blue eyes were fixed on you, plump lips parted as though he wanted to speak but no words would leave him. You waited, watching his chest expand with an intake of breath, but as he was about to speak, the door behind you creaked open. 

"Ellis...?" 

You whipped your head around to see Alfie peering into the room. 

"What?"

He glanced across at Father Benedict who had risen to his feet, dropping his head and busying himself by straightening the stack of chairs in the corner. 

"We're leaving," he said. 

"Who's we?" 

"Me and Gina." 

"Why?" 

"She's er..." He looked at the priest again. "She's not... feeling well." 

"Sure," you replied sarcastically. 

"Sorry," said Father Benedict awkwardly. "I'm just going to..." 

Alfie stepped aside, allowing him to shuffle past him out of the room, and for the moment they were side by side, you almost felt the urge to laugh. Your priest was so much taller, swallowing him in his lean, elegant frame. 

"We're going to share a cab, I was just checking if you wanted to c-"

"Why do you have to go?" you asked. 

"Well I don't have to. I just feel a bit shit leaving her to go home by herself. She's really upset." 

You rolled your eyes. "Just say you're looking for an excuse to leave-"

"I'm not. I'm not, I swear. I'm just going to take her home, make sure she's alright and get on with my portfolio for that job I'm applying for." 

You sighed. "Okay, whatever, yeah, I'll see you at home." 

"Okay." He nodded, turning on his heels and disappearing through the door. 

You leaned back in your chair, listening to the metal groan under your weight, watching through the window until a taxi pulled into the small carpark.

You stood up and walked back into the pub, eyes scanning the room for a tall figure dressed in black, the white collar you'd learned to spot in even the most crowded of places. But he was nowhere to be found. 

The thin heels of your shoes sank into the grass as you walked towards the church, the warm breeze licking at the bottom of your dress. The sun had moved across the sky, but it was still bright, making the day feel never-ending. 

You gripped the handle of your small handbag as you climbed the steps and pushed on the closed doors, opening them just enough to slip inside. The foyer was empty, no sign of June or the lady who would come to vacuum and dust the skirtings. The chapel was quiet too, the echo of your heels the only sound as you made your way down the aisle. You didn't know if he would be there, and even if he was, you weren't sure what you would say.

You stopped before the altar, taking a moment to gaze up at the statue of Jesus on the back wall; head stooped, arms outstretched. You wondered what it must be like to truly believe in him, if you'd ever believed in anything so blindly.

The small corridor beyond the sanctuary was dark, all of the doors closed tight except for one. You wandered slowly towards the thin sliver of light, breathing deeply, preparing to tap your knuckles against the door and step into his office, hoping the words would come to you when you laid eyes on him. 

As you grew closer, you began to hear a noise; a muffled, indistinguishable sound that made you refrain from knocking. Instead you peered through the crack in the open door, observing the messy, cluttered space, only a small amount of sunlight streaming in through the narrow window. 

He was there. Standing on the other side of the room, back to the door, head hanging between his shoulders just like the statue you'd passed moments ago. You eyed one of his arms bracing himself against the wall, palm planted flat. The other was in front of him, out of sight, moving in a vigorous, steady rhythm. You furrowed your brow, leaning closer. 

There was a soft grunt, heavy, laboured breaths. Your lips parted, mouth turning dry as your mind finally caught up with what you were seeing. He was masturbating. The realisation was dizzying, making you freeze in place, breath halting halfway up your throat. 

It should have mortified you, made you look away, embarrassed to have stumbled upon such a weak and vulnerable moment. You should have been repelled by the notion that this god-fearing man had so little control that he could touch himself within the walls of his church. But the only humiliation you felt was for yourself; for the warm waves crashing deep in your belly, the slick forming between your legs. 

He was muttering under his breath, the pumping of his arm growing more intense as he lowered his head further. 

"Fuck," you heard him whisper. "Ellis." 

Your mouth fell open completely, drawing in a soft gasp. Did he really say that? Maybe you misheard. He groaned, fingers pressing harder against the wall, and you knew now that you had to leave. 

You backed away from the door and turned, walking slowly, your footsteps deliberate in an attempt to go as silently as you came. When you reached the chapel, you found yourself breathless, sitting down in the empty pews to collect yourself. You dropped your bag to the floor and let your head fall into your hands, closing your eyes as the image of him played on a loop behind your lids. Ellis. He really said-

"Ellis?"

Your head shot up, eyes wide as you found him standing near the entrance to the corridor. He looked flustered, sweaty, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt as he looked around the empty chapel. 

"Hello..." you said, trying to keep your voice steady. 

"Hi. What are..." He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, I was erm, I was looking for you. But I... guess you must have been busy..." 

"Y-yes, I was." He made his way over to the other side of the church, picking up a newsletter that had been left on the floor. "Sorry, you said you were looking for me?" 

"Yeah-"

He interrupted you with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he approached you. "If it's about the question you asked before, I- I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you."

"No, it's not. I er, I actually wanted to make a confession." 

He glanced down at his watch and let out a sigh before gesturing to the large wooden cabinet at the back of the room. "Alright, if we make it quick-"

"No- No, I don't mean in the booth. I mean I need to make a confession... to you. Specifically."

"Oh." He narrowed his eyes with curiosity, taking a seat in the row in front and twisting his body to face you. "Okay?" 

You took a moment to stare at him, drink him in - eyes, hair, lips, neck, the curve of his nose, the angle of his jaw - just in case. You pressed your lips together and swallowed hard, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. 

"I have absolutely no interest in being part of the church," you said. 

"Oh," he replied, blinking with confusion. "I- I... I hope it wasn't something I did?"

"No. It wasn't. The truth is I'm not religious. Not even a little bit. Never have been. I'm not open to exploring my faith because I have no faith; I think christianity is a cult and blind belief in something that directly contradicts proven, scientific evidence is nothing short of delusional." 

Slightly harsh, Ellis.

He furrowed his brow, letting out a musing hum. 

"The night we met," you continued. "When you saw me sitting in the pews back there. I wasn't praying. I was... I was just waiting for the rain to stop." 

Your voice trailed off, eclipsed by shame, grief, guilt. 

"Why..." His voice was a whisper. "Why wouldn't you just tell me that? Wh- When I asked if you sought salvation, why on earth would you say yes?" 

You paused, eyes locked on his. "Okay, maybe we should go in the booth." 

"Why?"

"Because I don't think I can look directly at you when I say this." 

He seemed to understand, rising to his feet and slipping out into the aisle without another word. You remained seated, watching him walk away with his hands in his pockets. 

"Come on then," he called to you, his voice echoing against the ceiling as he dragged back the curtains on each side of the booth. 

The wooden bench creaked beneath you, a loose floorboard seesawing up and down with a squeak as you pushed the heel of your shoe against it. The scent of linseed oil and rosary beads was claggy and overwhelming, the heat of late spring making the air inside the confined space close and unyielding.

There was a partition to your left, perforated with small crosses that unveiled flashes of Father Benedict's alabaster complexion on the other side. He was sitting too, you could hear the groan of the bench under his weight, the shuffle of his shoes against the floor of the booth. 

"Okay," he said. "Spill." 

"Aren't you supposed to forgive me for my sins or something?" 

"Yeah we're skipping all of that." 

"Fair enough." You looked around your small compartment, the dark wood you could tell was once glossy, now scuffed and dull. It seemed a lot of people had sins to confess. "I said I wanted to become part of the church that night... Because I was attracted to you."

He didn't reply. 

"And I've proceeded to take part in the church because I'm still attracted to you."

Still nothing. You glanced through the partition, able to make out the shape of him; leant forward, head bowed, listening. 

"I promise I have enjoyed coming here, none of that was pretend," you continued, your voice wavering slightly. "But I'd be lying if I said there hasn't been... other reasons for me taking such an interest in this place. I just- no matter how much I try, I can't stop thinking about you in that way. And I've felt like such terrible person for it." You paused, swallowing. "But then you said those things about the way I look at you, and I've noticed the way you look at me too-"

"Ellis," he said softly, as though begging you to stop. 

"Don't tell me I'm making it up." 

You heard a sigh, another creak. You turned your head, speaking directly to the partition between you. 

"I saw you," you said. "Just now in your office. I saw you. I heard you..." 

He moved, back straightening, head turning towards you. You couldn't see his face, but you knew his expression; shock, embarrassment, fear. 

"I've done that too," you whispered. "Said your name while..." 

You trailed off, leaning back, letting your head rest against the wall behind you. 

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. 

"Because I thought- I don't know, I thought maybe if you knew I didn't want a relationship with God, you wouldn't feel so bad about keeping me to yourself." 

Silence.

"Father." You paused. "If I open this curtain... If I walk out right now and stand in front of yours... Will you open it for me?" 

"Ellis-"

You didn't wait to hear what he was going to say. Instead you stood up and pulled back your curtain, stepping out of the hot booth into the cool air of the chapel. 

You stood outside his curtain, chewing your fingernail as you waited. But there was no movement, not even a sound. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before nodding to yourself solemnly. 

The sun shone through the stained glass onto your dress, the colours moving and shifting as you walked, like the facets of a diamond. You made your way back to the pews in search of your bag, shuffling along the row and picking it up off the floor before stepping back out into the aisle. 

A sudden noise made you stop, the screeching of curtain loops raking against a rail. You turned to see him standing outside the booth, chest rising and falling heavily, eyes burning despite their glacial hue. 

He stormed down the aisle in long, quick strides towards you, bringing you face to face, close enough to feel his breath, to see the crinkle between his brows. 

"This is what I am," he said, thumping a hand on his own chest. 

"I understand," you replied timidly. 

"It's what I chose to be," he continued through gritted teeth. "This is what I chose, and I was fine with that. Then you had to come and-"

"Stop. I know, okay." 

"Do you? Do you really know how it feels to have everything you believe in, everything you've dedicated your whole life to jeopardised because you can't resist a basic temptation?" 

"I'm not a temptation!" you snapped, turning around to point at the statue of Christ on the far wall. "You think he sent me here? You think the only reason I've done all this- am doing all of this is because god wants to test you?"

You threw your bag to the ground and began marching up to the statue, Father Benedict quick on your heels. 

"Hey," you said, speaking directly to the large, marble figure. "If I'm really a test then fucking prove it, send us a sign." 

"Ellis," he hissed. 

He was right behind you, causing you to almost bump into his chest as you turned around. 

You opened your arms wide, gesturing to your surroundings. "See, nothing." 

The pulse in his jaw returned, hands resting on his hips with irritation. 

"I understood when I sat down in that confessional that I might just make a fool of myself," you said calmly. "But I'm not a sin, Father. And I hate that that's what you see when you look at me."

"Wait, stop. Sin? You think I see you as a sin?" He narrowed his eyes, brushing back his hair with frustration before leaning in close and deepening his voice. "You are the reason I've begun to question whether there's even such a thing at all. How something could possibly be so wrong when every fibre of my being is drawn towards it. You're not a temptation, Ellis. If anything, you are the choice that feels most right. And that... There is no amount of prayer and worship and study that can tell me what to do about that."

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, mouth agape. He was quiet too, stunned by his own candour. Your chest was heaving as you watched him lick his lips, and before you knew it, his hands were on your face, your fingers gripping at the sleeves of his shirt as you came together in a fevered, desperate kiss. 

You stumbled together in a tangle of hot breaths and eager hands, falling back against the credence table and knocking a set of candles onto the floor with a heavy thud, a large chalice clanging as it rolled away. His kiss was as heavenly as you'd imagined; soft lips, skilled tongue, forceful and hungry, as if he'd been starving and didn't know when he would get to eat again. 

He lifted you onto the edge of the table, tugging impatiently at your dress until it was bunched at your hips, fingers grazing your inner thighs as you worked to unbutton his trousers. But as the first one popped open, a sudden noise made you freeze. 

You both turned to see the cleaning lady dragging a hoover into the chapel. Father Benedict stepped back from you quickly, turning to discreetly fasten his trousers as you stood up and pulled your dress down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

"Oh, hi there, Linda," he called out cheerfully.

She glanced over at him and smiled. "Hello, Father, don't worry, I won't get in your way." 

"That's alright, I was just erm... showing Ellis here how we set up for the Eucharist." 

You dropped to the ground, picking up the candles and chalice and placing them back on the table.

Linda nodded, switching on the vacuum and beginning to swipe it back and forth across the floor. 

You stood there for a moment, staring at each other amidst the loud whirring of the machine. He seemed disappointed, in you or in himself, you couldn't quite tell. 

"I should get back to the party," you said. 

"Y-yeah," he replied. 

You began to walk away, glancing back to find him looking up at the statue, rubbing his jaw in turmoil. 

“That wasn’t a sign," you said breathlessly, shaking your head at him. "It wasn't." 

He looked down at you.

“It wasn't," you repeated, before turning around and hurrying away.

Part 7

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[sirenjose]

So I've been really into your analysis lately and I'm a huge fan now, wanted to ask some questions, feel free to not answer any

1- what was your favourite idv story/event to analyze?

2- your least fav of the latter?

3- are you into anything else besides idv?

4-how do you find the motivation to analyze stuff? I've tried before and it was very draining :')

Thanks for your time, hope you have a lovely day

I'm very happy to hear you're enjoying yourself despite my own low opinion about much of what I put out. I'll do my best to answer!

Hmm I always dislike picking favorites because I'm bad at picking eheh... But the ones I liked most... I honestly enjoy T&I and COA (1-5) even more than the main story. So I think I might pick... Atropos' Ropes for T&I and for COA, thats harder... 3-5 are my faves but I might pick 4 just because of how it felt it had the most story/details given than all the rest. Even the *SONG* had story. I loved it.

Least fave, eh... Orfeo and Zinaida immediately come to mind, though Orfeo I'd say was worse... COA 1 is another primarily because of how DIFFICULT it was for me to figure it out enough to put together an analysis. And I had to rewrite that thing at LEAST 3 times to the point I'm just hoping it's good enough and leaving it alone. Time of Reunion I think is another that comes to mind, mainly because I didn't appreciate how they treated Norton in there, especially in the videos (but at least those aren't canon like the in-game event was). So based on all that, I might say Orfeo if I really had to pick 1. Then rank ToR 2nd and Zinaida/COA1 3rd.

FF14 and Honkai Star Rail especially I'm playing actively these days, but I honestly like a lot of stuff. Like Persona (espeially 4), 999 aka Zero Escape, and Star Ocean Til the End of Time. Least in terms of games.

Hmm... Maybe because the 1st reason I play a game is because of the story, and gameplay is always 2nd to me. If the story and characters are good, that gets me interested. Issue with IDV is we only get bits and pieces. Really need to look deeper to really understand some of the characters. I actually only started analyzing because I challenged myself (partially out of curiosity for the answer) to see if I could prove if Norton wasn't as evil as people thought (based on all the comments I saw when I 1st joined the fandom a long while ago). From there, there was Jose who I wanted to analyze because he honestly had so many plot holes I couldn't (and still can't completely) solve. So I get the most enjoyment analyzing something that doesn't have a clear answer. Which is why I don't always post for every letter. A big part of it is I enjoy history and culture and such, so it's fun for me to learn about different foods, or time periods, or how bad the environment was for miners or sailors back in the day, etc... I dont think I have an easy answer (I can see I'm rambling). Norton I actually only began to like because I was spending so long working on my 1st analysis for him (and my perfectionism made me analyze all of Norton's essences before i could call it finished). Jose was because I love Captain Hook, and then after because of the plot holes that bothered me. Then for others, I think I enjoy making analyses to... try to sometimes change people's opinoions/beliefs. Like with Margaretha or Vera. With Edgar was because I was more interested in his story and him as a character only once I put together all his lore. Sort of goes on from there. I could ramble on but I'm going to get even more guilty. I hope this helps somewhat, but let me know if it doesn't and I'll keep going. Maybe the simple is A) I like history/culture/research, B) I like to convince people that certain characters arent as evil as they think or change beliefs I think aren't quite accurate, C) I like solving puzzles and I love story, D) I already think too hard about literally everything, and combined with my perfectionism, we get analysis

[historia-vitae-magistras]

A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?

Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.

Alfred:

 —Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.

 —With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.

 —He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.

 —He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.

 —He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.

 —This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.

 —He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.

 —He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.

 —He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.

—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.

—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.

 —Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.

 —He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.

 ��That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.

Matt:

 —He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.

 —He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.

  —He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.

 —There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.

 —Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.

 —When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.

 —There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.

 —He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.

 —Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.

 —Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.

#the ask box || probis pateo #hws canada #hws america #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations #matthew || my country is winter #alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies

[todaysbird]

It's kind of like this for me... you go in to the vet, and you see all those posters on the walls about dog dental health or heartworm meds or whatever, and you look and they're from a company trying to sell you a related med

My understanding is that usually those companies are paying the vet to post what are basically ads

And like... on one hand, those probably are effective meds for those things, and those are things that need treating. Also, if the vet is getting compensated, that may help to pay for stuff like rent and may lower my costs even a tiny bit... and that's probably good

On the other hand, I think that kind of advertising is very insidious and... you do have to ask the question, might it influence vets even unconsciously to favor giving out the meds/food/brands that also helps pay their bills, especially if they do get any kind of actual reward?

It's complicated, money makes all this stuff tricky. You get balancing operating cost, vs providing care, vs ethical questions around accepting deals with companies to directly or indirectly promote their products to people trying to take care of their pets

(And like you said, you've got a lot of this stuff around in the human medical field too)

I assume that's kind of your main point with what you've been saying here, that the whole thing is a muddy situation where monetary motives my consciously or subconsciously influence vets to lean towards brands that help them out regardless of if that's what's best for their client and their pets, but that also doesn't mean that it's some kind of pure scam with zero value either

Anyway, regardless of if I'm reading your thoughts on this right, hope you have a good day

Yes exactly. I do not believe that the average owner ‘knows more’ than a vet, however I do believe certain food brands are over-recommended due to those brands paying for their places in vet offices. This doesn’t even necessarily negate the quality of the food, or reflect on the care the veterinarian provides.

I remember getting into a long debate over the phone with a vet tech when she insinuated I had gotten grain free food for my dog as a fad diet, and they only recommended Hill’s. My dog has allergies to grain, and gets violently ill when fed regular dog food. After many brands, we have settled on a grain free, sensitive tummy dog food that keeps her healthy and happy. This does not mean she was acting with intent to harm my dog. Vets are more aware of dogs’ needs than the average person, AND you as an owner have the responsibility to know & advocate for your pet’s individualized needs.

#asks

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Onyvolan

CR 3

Chaotic Neutral Monstrous Humanoid

Adventure Path: War for the Crown: Crownfall, pg. 86-87

Y’know, Pathfinder borrows creatures from just about every mythological, folkloric, and religious sphere on the planet, and every Bestiary contains a generous handful of creatures based on existing properties with enough differences that most people who recognize them will go “hey, I know that one!” Cute homages and references abound in Pathfinder, something I DO genuinely enjoy... But this one?  I think the Venn Diagram crossover section between “people who play Pathfinder” and “people who’ve actually watched Return to Oz“ (or read the original sequel books) contains maybe 7 people. While not the most obscure property or story Pathfinder’s ever referenced, it’s definitely up there! I enjoy that Pathfinder’s version goes all the way back to the original story’s first description of them, making their wheels keratinous appendages instead of the mechanical augmentations they were in the movie.

And god does it make these things weird. In the whimsical Land of Oz, the weirdness of the Wheelers is perfectly at home and almost entirely glossed over as just another example of the strange natives of an even stranger world. In Pathfinder? ... well, they also don’t have an excuse. There’s ZERO explanation of where these creature’s come from, why they exist, and why they do what they do! Not even a handwave explanation of mad wizardry, magical contamination, a bloodline curse, or alchemical muckery. As far as anyone care to tell, they’re simply forms of bizarre wildlife that have evolved--naturally, magically, or otherwise--to live in human cities. And only in human cities, unfortunately; their wheeled appendages make them quick as a pony (40ft movement) and quiet as a whisper (+10 Stealth!) on flattened ground, beaten dirt roads, and stone pathways, but uneven surfaces prove to be a bane to them. They’re Easily Hampered, and any difficult terrain they encounter costs them 20ft of movement per 5ft square, slowing them to a glacial crawl.

Onyvolan are curious creatures through and through. They’re intelligent as any human and can hold perfectly lucid conversations in Common, but their entire being and culture seems to revolve around being roving gangs of bullies, scavengers, and thieves. They squat in unused buildings and abandoned homes, roving out to scavenge what they can from any source they can, prizing junkyards and garbage pits to vandalize nearby structures, as well as find food, trinkets for their odd collections, and especially clothing, their alien mindsets causing them to prize clothes above all other forms of treasure; the more garish, eye-searing, and ugly, the better. Gangs of Onyvolan look like groups of hideously-dressed street toughs on roller skates, and they act the part, too. They seem almost instinctually motivated to bully and scare any Humanoid they come across, as if they were perpetually in the mind-space of being belligerent and aggressive teenagers. often surrounding victims on all sides and shouting, growling, hissing, spitting insults, laughing, and whooping until they’ve had their fun with the object of their attention and rolling off. Their Creepy Cackle is noted to be particularly chilling, any creature within earshot needing to make a DC 14 Will save to avoid being shaken by the sound, and though success on the save renders the victim immune to that particular wheel-man’s Cackle for a day, the monstrous creatures are almost never alone.

If feeling especially brave (typically, this means outnumbering their target 3 to 1), Onyvolans will tackle and trip their victims, their Nimble Charger giving them +2 to Bull Rush and Overrun maneuvers (for a decent +9) and preventing victims from making Attacks of Opportunity in retribution. Once on the ground, Onyvolans will pilfer items from their unfortunate victim, grabbing articles of clothing or bags of groceries in their sharpened teeth before running off, cackling into the distance as they skate away at speeds the average human cannot match. Unlike a great many city-dwelling humanoids with sharpened teeth, Onyvolan aren’t man-eaters or even murderers, preferring to keep their crimes to muggings or breaking-and-entering. Their two slam attacks, each dealing 1d8+1 damage, are more for discouraging guards or punishing people who don’t fork over their belongings than actual tools for murder, and Onyvolans are Cowards (as every single bully is), easily shaken by any creature trying to Intimidate them back and preferring to flee from fights than stick around and see them to their end.

These creatures make for very strange encounters in metropolitan areas, wheeling in to harass and steal from the party before making a swift escape. Their relative harmlessness (in that they’ll beat you up but probably won’t kill you) and the low stakes they tend to involve themselves in (the most dramatic crime they’re stated to take is coordinated raids on clothiers and haberdashers) make them good targets for adventurers getting their own metaphorical wheels spinning, though despite their cowardice and the ruination that any amount of difficult terrain inflicts on them, one shouldn’t underestimate how punishing it can be to be shaken while surrounded by creatures that specialize in hitting people while they’re down. Just because you’re unlikely to die doesn’t mean you’re unlikely to lose and get all your clothes stolen, and few things are as damning to a beginning Wizard or Inquisitor as losing your big goofy hats. That’s practically like losing a class feature!

You can read more about them here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 1 to 5 #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS ZERO Animate Tokuten Drama CD “A Vampire’s Late Night Snack Terror” [Kou ver.]

Original title: 夜更かしヴァンパイアの食テロ飯 [コウ編]

Source: Diabolik Lovers ZERO Vol. 2 Animate Tokuten CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kimura Ryouhei

Translator’s note: Take notes everyone, do not EVER let Kou into your kitchen because he will destroy the place. That being said, it was really cute to see him be such a disaster in the kitchen. Especially all of the shrieking and cries of panic had me giggle more than once. (Sorry Kou) You know it’s bad when the MC had to resort to eventually having him pour hot water over a pre-made onigiri and call it a dish. :p

*Rustle rustle*

You approach Kou in the kitchen.

“...Oh? You’re awake too? Are you thirsty, maybe? ...Personally I’m here because I got hungry so I’m looking to see if there’s still any food around. 

I know I already had seconds, but just dinner isn’t enough to tie me over. I’m still a growing boy, you see? So I end up needing a small snack before bed every now and then. 

Seems like everyone ate a lot today though so there aren’t any leftovers...So, perhaps I should indulge in your blood instead~? That doesn’t sound bad either.”

You shake your head.

“Hahaha! I’m joking! Even though your blood is delicious, there’s a difference between being hungry for blood or actual food. I’ll have your blood some other time, okay~? ...Anyway, guess I have no other choice but to have a slice of white bread and go to bed. It’s at times like this where I wish I could whip up something real quick. I shouldh ave learnt how to cook at some point in my life.”

You offer to teach him some easy recipes.

“Eh? Really!? You’ll teach me!”

You seem somewhat surprised that he’s willing to cook.

“Of course! I’ll gladly make something if you’re the one giving me instructions! Well then, today you’re the instructor and I’m your student! ...Sensei, I’m starving!”

You ask Kou what he wants to eat.

“Hm...What I want to eat? I’m not sure...I’d say pasta but we’re all out after tonight’s dinner...”

*Rustle*

“Ah! In that case, doria! (1) A piping hot plate, loaded with extras and topped with a generous amount of cheese!”

You nod.

“Hooray! Let’s get started then!”

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle*

“All set! What should we do first?”

You explain.

“Hm...The bechamel sauce, huh? Let me handle that!”

You give him instructions.

“Uhm...I should melt some butter? I’ll a pot...”

*Cling*

Kou turns on the stove.

“The flour goes in next, right? Let me just open the bag...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Huh...? The bag won’t...Huh!? ...How does it work!? It won’t open!”

*RIIIIIP*

“Aaah!”

*Thud*

“Coff, coff...Gosh, I didn’t think I’d end up dropping the whole bag. You’re completely white right now, M-neko-chan...Eh? So am I? Ah-ahー The pot’s a mess as well. ...Aah, no biggie! One more time! I’m starting over from scratch!”

*Rustle rustle*

*Pshhhh*

“Eeh!? The butter turned black! ...Uwah! There’s smoke! Look!”

*Pshhh*

“One second, the pot got knocked over...Uwaaah!!”

*WOOSH*

“Flames!! It’s on fire!! M-neko-chan, water! Quick!!” 

*SHATTER SHATTER*

*Shatter*

*TIMESKIP*

“...Uu...The kitchen’s a hot mess...How come I just can’t seem to get it right? Am I just too clumsy...!? Whatever, I’m never cooking again in my whole life...”

You try to motivate him to keep going.

“It’ll turn out a disaster no matter how many times I try! I’m just not cut out for it! Besides, we’ve blasted through most of our ingredients as well...Even if we were to try to buy new ones, almost all stores are closed at this hour.”

You grab hold of his hand and start dragging him out of the kitchen.

*Rustle rustle*

“Eh!? ‘Let’s go’? But where!? ...Hey! M-neko-chan, listen to me!”

*Thud*

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

“We’re back...”

*Rustle*

“I was wondering where you’d take me, but I didn’t expect the convenience store...And on top of that you bought onigiri. If you’re no longer in the mood to cook, you could have at least gotten me a proper bento.” 

You tell him that you’re going to cook with the onigiri.

“Eh? You actually haven’t given up yet? Then why did you buy these things?”

You ask him to have faith in you.

“Well, if you say so...Fine, this is the final try! I promise that I’ll make a delicious late-night snack this time!”

You nod. 

“Mmh! Well then, Sensei! Please give me instructions! Okay, I’ll get a bowl first...”

*Thud*

“Then put the onigiri we bought in the...”

*Rustle*

“...Eh? We’re going to use the onigiri!?”

You ask him to have faith in you.

“Okay. I’ll put it in then! I chose one with grilled fish roe and seaweed inside!”

You continue to give him instructions. 

“Then with that...Eh? We’re putting this in as well? Uhm...”

*Rustle*

“In goes one packet of dried bonite flakes from the convenience store!”

*Rustle rustle*

“And then a splash of soy sauce...”

*Pshhh*

“Hm...That should do, I guess? Last but not least we pour in some hot water...”

*Pshhh*

“Mix everything up and it’s done!”

*Dun dun*

“Easy-made dashi-chazuke (2) from the convenience store!”

“Eh!? Are you sure we’re done!? All I did was pour hot water in!”

You prompt him to try it.

“I mean, I’ll try it now that I’ve made it...”

*Thud*

“Thanks for the meal...”

*Cling*

“Phew...Phew...Hahn...Mmh...Mm! It’s delicious! The dried bonito flakes really helped to give the broth that extra punch of flavor! Hahn...!”

*Nom*

“The rice is nice and hot as well, warming me up from inside.”

*Sluuuurp*

“I made the right choice with my onigiri fillings! I love how fluffy the rice is in comparison to the fried fish roe which pops in your mouth! The saltiness makes it so that I could eat several bowls of this! The dried seaweed gives off flavor as well, so it’s very hearty and savory! ...Here, you should give it a try as well! Phew...Phew...Say ‘aahn’.”

Kou feeds you.

*Rustle rustle*

You tell him it’s good.

“Right!? I honestly could grow addicted to this! ...Here, you can have one more bite!”

You shake your head.

“Nu-uh! This is your reward! I have to show my thanks to you for teaching me so well! Come on, open your mouth~ ‘Aaahn’“

*Chomp*

“Good girl ...You’re really enjoying it, huh? Seems like you haven’t even realized that eating from the same chopsticks counts as an indirect kiss~”

You suddenly become flustered.

“Oh geez, you’re panicking now? Too late~ Besides, we’ve kissed plenty of times before, no?”

*Nom nom*

*Sluuuurp*

“Mm...Mmh!”

*Thud*

“Thanks for the meal! Haah~ I’m stuffed! I ended up scarfing it down! I didn’t think such an easy recipe could count as cooking as well.”

You remind him that he just cooked a dish by himself.

“Huh? ...Right! I managed to make something by myself! ...Thanks for keeping up with me till the end. ...My fine motor skills aren’t always the best, so I always thought that cooking just wasn’t for me. Ruki’s been cooking for me for as long as I can remember. But ever since you started making food instead, I’ve been getting the urge to help out where I can, so I’m glad I challenged myself today!”

You ask him if that was his real objective for wanting to cook something tonight.

“Fufu~ I spilled the beans. Still, it’s not like I wanted to hide it or anything. I know I messed up a lot, but I’ll improve step by step starting with the little things I can manage.”

You agree and cheer him on.

“Mmh! Thanks! I’d love to thank you with a kiss but...I’m pretty sure I’ve got fishy breath from the ochazuke so let’s leave that for another time.”

You blush.

“Oh come on, look at you acting all flustered again~ We both know that you’re happy deep down.”

You puff out your cheeks. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry! Well then...Guess I’ll go brush my teeth and then hit the hay.”

*Rustle*

“Ah...The kitchen...What do we do about it?”

*Cling cling*

“If Ruki-kun sees this, he’ll explode... (3)”

You tell him that you should clean up.

“R-Right! Let’s clean everything up while we can! Ruki-kun might be an early bird, but there’s no way he’d be awake at this hour!”

They hear Ruki approach the kitchen. 

“Ah...These footsteps...Uh-oh. ...Let’s quickly make a run for it, M-neko-chan!”

The two of you run away.

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) The best way to describe ‘doria’ would be an Asian lasagna. It’s a very popular Italian-inspired Japanese dish consisting of rice in a bechamel sauce (I believe sometimes it can be a mixture of red and white sauce too) with vegetables or meats of your choice, topped with a layer of grated cheese and then baked in the oven so it gets that crispy crust just like a lasagna has.

(2) Ochazuke is a very simple Japanese dish consisting of boiled rice in a broth, in this case a traditional dashi-broth.

(3) Literally Kou says that a bolt of lightning will come striking down.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kou mukami #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd #diabolik lovers zero

[ninigummysmile]

𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞́

Summary: You could spend every morning in bed with your girlfriend

Dom!Rosé x Sub!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 1.023

One thing you learned to love because of your girlfriend is sunday mornings. On warm mornings, you have a nice breakfast on the porch and then go for a walk in a park, feeding some ducks that stay in the lake, you read a book lying in the hammock and cook a sweet pie when the sun is already setting.

On rainy mornings, all you do is lie in bed until lunchtime, where you order out somewhere, watch movies in the afternoon, and have some leftovers from the fridge for dinner.

Another thing you've learned to like about your girlfriend, except in the mornings, is her loud and sometimes clumsy ways.

You wake up with the sound of some pots banging and the fridge beeping because it's been open for a few minutes.

Even though you want to be mad, you smile as you stretch and imagine that Rosé is making breakfast. She loves to spoil you with breakfast in bed because she knows you like to have a good few minutes in bed before you get up.

Looking through the crack in the curtain, you see that despite the heat, the sky is overcast and that maybe later there will be a brief summer rain.

You are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear Rosé's footsteps in the hall and see her entering the room prettily in her nightgown and balancing the tray of food.

“You're already awake” she notes with a pout. “Just because I wanted to wake you up with kisses”

You laugh lazily at her cuteness. “It's impossible not to wake up with the noises coming from the kitchen” she smiles sheepishly. “But I accept my good morning kisses, you know I will never refuse them”

Propping the tray on the bedside table, she looks like the happiest person in the world as she crawls onto the bed and stops inches from your face. She kisses you all over your face before finally sealing your lips in a long peck.

“You are so beautiful when you wake up” she sighs, lost in thoughts.

“Even with my eyes full of snot?” you joke.

“That's your little charm I can't resist” she laughs and gives you one more kiss before getting up. “We better eat before it gets cold… or before I keep kissing you” she completes with a smirk.

“I don't mind skipping breakfast” you tease her. “Actually, I never skipped, you've been my breakfast many times” you wiggle your eyebrows as you sit down.

“Stop it” she says with a red face.

“What?" you ask with false innocence. “Aren't you going to tell me you weren't planning to wake me up with your little kisses with ulterior motives?”

“You know me so well” she responds ironically and rolling her eyes but you know her rosy cheeks give you exactly the true answer.

After having a hearty breakfast, your desire to get out of bed and do something is zero.

Rosé goes back to the bedroom after taking the mess to the kitchen and with a face like she's going to ask you for something, she kneels on the bed.

“What?” you ask already anticipating that she's going to ask for something you don't feel like doing, at least not right now. Because let's face it, you'd do anything with her and for her, it could be the most boring thing in the world, but if it makes your girl happy, you'll go to great lengths to do it.

“How about we take care of the flowers on the porch today?”

“Love…” you try to protest.

“Please, you promised me and you've been putting it off for days”

“Only if I get a kiss” you say mischievously.

“Just a kiss?" she questions arching her eyebrows.

“Hey, I didn't imply anything this time!” you intend to be offended.

“But I know you and I know that when you say things with ulterior motives first thing in the morning it's because you mean to”

“I mean what?”

“You want me to fuck you” she rarely swears, but when she does… it's the eighth wonder of the world, if not the first.

“Well, I just wanted a kiss, but if you're saying that if I'm going to help you we're going to have sex, who am I to argue with that?”

“You suck” she laughs and kneels between your legs. "Blackmailer"

“I just know how to take advantage of the opportunities that life gives me, nothing else”

“God, shut up before I leave you here all wet and go take care of the flowers myself”

You laugh and enjoy her as she peels off the thin fabric of her body. You fight the urge to get up and grab one of her breasts that fit perfectly in your hands.

She lays on top of you and kisses you. Pulling your shirt over your head, she kisses and licks her way down to your shorts. Stripping it off along with your panties, she's quick to lay between your thighs and admire your naked pussy.

With one long lick, you shiver and immediately one of your hands goes into her hair and the other grips the sheets.

Taking all your juices and sucking your clit, her small moans in your intimate region run through your entire body providing a wonderful sensation. “Sweet pussy” she mutters to herself sticking her tongue as far inside you while her nose stimulates your little bundle of nerves.

Your back arches and your toes curl, letting out a high and long moan as you let the pleasure wash over your body and you feel on cloud nine.

“Are you going to help me now?” you hear the lust in her voice as she distributes small bites on your neck.

“But I want you to come too” you stroke her hair and she seals your lips.

“None of that. First we'll do what you promised and then you get your reward” she winks and gets up putting her clothes back on. “I'm waiting for you outside”

You let out a long sigh of contentment. How did you get so lucky?

#Rosé #rosé park #park chaeyoung #bp rosé #kpop smut #blackpink #rosé smut #blackpink smut #ninigummysmilesmut #rosé x reader

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I was just reading a new TBOSAS fic on AO3, it’s a Catching Fire AU that I found by religiously stalking the Treech tag. And the author just informed me that they’re not sure on who gets to live or die so my brain made multiple similar AU’s where I decide who lives :)

So first of all, these will all be focussing on Treech and Lamina. I headcanon Lamina as older than Treech, which I seem to be alone in? I’m sorry but she has big sis energy to me, and also I push the “younger people can be the (more) protective one too” agenda. In my head Treech is 15-16ish? So he’s a few months to a bit over a year younger than Lamina (who is canonically 16). I’m not 100% on what to make their relationship to each other, because I like them both as a ship and as platonic besties. I’ll mention which one I’m using (or if I’m making them related somehow) for the AU’s I’ll share in this post (and, likely, following ones 💜).

Starting off strong: not necessarily a catching fire AU but close enough and better because the second rebellion happens much sooner here. Treech and Lamina can be anything here, but I my top picks are siblings or besties since birth so we’ll go with siblings (nice Gloss and Cashmere parallel minus the career/likely volunteer part I know). Treech is two years younger than Lamina here for ✨reasons✨. The 10th games, with Lucy Gray still as victor through cheating, are the starting point of the mentors. From then on, the victors slowly start taking over the mentoring. The academy students still get a chance at winning the Plinth Prize in the beginning, but that quickly falls away and it’s just about getting your name out there and bragging rights for them.

Lamina wins the 16th games at 16 (ha) as the first female victor for district 7. She and one of the two male victors from previous games are to mentor, since the capitol stipulates that if there are male and female victors, the two mentors have to be one guy and one girl. This happens during her second year as mentor. The mentors all watch the reaping together in the capitol, which also gives them more time to sort mentor business. District 7’s turn comes, and Lamina almost feels bad for how relieved she is that the 18-year-old girl is someone she’d only seen in passing and didn’t actually know. Most of her friends that weren’t already safe aged out this year, meaning she didn’t have to worry about potentially seeing anyone she cared about die. Treech’s name isn’t in the bowl as much as many others, especially since her victory meant her family had enough food to not require tesserae anymore. And their family had already been reaped once, so surely they wouldn’t be picked again, right?

Pause for effect

Treech’s name is called out, and Lamina screams in denial before breaking down into sobs while the other two district 7 victors try to comfort her. The rest of the victors look at her with pity and sympathy. He’d been her motivation to win her games, and now Lamina would have to mentor her little brother despite his low odds of winning the games. I have most of this AU worked out in terms of broad strokes, but I’ll move on to the next one and if you want me to expand just ask me.

Quarter Quell Hell:

The 25th hunger games had the twist that the districts have to vote on their tributes, but I’m adding a twist to this Quarter Quell. The tributes are reaped from bowls filled with the names of the 5% of kids with the least votes, to remind the districts that they’re powerless rather than the whole “you’re the reason they’re dying” thing. And when they’re chosen, a screen will show how many people voted. Treech, being the only direct relative of a victor eligible for the games, received zero votes. Nobody wished it upon their family to lose another child, especially given how they’re so kind to everyone (basing this off of Lamina, and Treech doesn’t have much canon personality so it works).

Quarter Quell Hell 2: Electric Boogaloo:

A completely different first quarter quell, where the tributes are picked from the victor’s direct family. A reminder that even the districts’ strongest cannot protect their loved ones from the capitol. The only restriction is that people above the age of 50 cannot compete, because those people have lived out most of their life expectancy, whereas younger people still have most of their life to live, and it’d be like letting the district off easy. Only one previous victor besides Lamina has a brother, and that brother turned 50 just that year, whereas Treech just turned 15 and is very much eligible. The parents that are still alive are well above the age cutoff. So, while there are more than 20 names in the bowl for the women of district 7 (sisters, wives, and daughters), there’s only one in the bowl for the boys. Treech. Worse even, he won’t be mentored by a previous victor but by a top performing student at the academy to reinforce the intended message.

I’m torn on whether to make Gaius Breen (because he deserves more attention) or Festus Creed his mentor (I wanted to go with Pliny, but he’s so tied to Lamina in my head it would feel weird to go that route). I’m gonna go with Festus, because he was nice to Sejanus. Am I lowkey shipping Festus with Treech now, even though they have no canon interaction whatsoever? … yes, yes I am. Sue me. The reaping happens in the capitol, and while the previous victors must go to the capitol to watch the games they’re only brought there a day before the games begin and aren’t allowed to see their family member at all before the games. Both the tribute and the victor will be alone. I’ve got a lot of ideas for this one, and for my newly invented ship FesTreech, so I’ll write a post about that once I’ve posted this.

Star Crossed Lovers AU:

Lamina is the Girl on Fire of this AU, winning her game with only one kill, made out of compassion. Lumber is used as firewood, and her stylist leaned into it. Hence her also getting a literally flaming hot costume. She’s sent into the games with Treech, but unlike Katniss and Peeta these two are in love from the start. In fact, they were dating before they were reaped. Treech joins the careers, but only because he doesn’t want to be the only one left with Lamina at the end because he doesn’t want to fight her. He leaves the pack very early, rather than being forced out, and stays alone for most of the rest of the games, before teaming up with Lamina towards the end when the announcement comes they can survive together. The announcement is revoked, they almost eat the berries, they’re saved, they start a rebellion.

Actual Catching Fire AU:

Lamina won the 71st games, went back home and started dating Treech. Then Treech got reaped and she had to mentor her boyfriend, but he won too so it’s alright. Then the third Quarter Quell happens, and their worst nightmare comes true. Not only are they both reaped to go back into the arena, but they’re going in together this time. And only one of them will survive. They stick together throughout most of the games, only teaming up with Tanner and Coral briefly because they’re good friends of theirs (less than half of the 75th games’ tributes are 10th games tributes because I refuse to kill any of them if I can prevent it). When the arena is destroyed, Treech is taken by the capitol. I choose him because this leads to Lamina going on an absolute rampage. The capitol was not prepared for her wrath at the sheer audacity they have to dare hurt her boyfriend.

What did I just create? I- it’s 4:35AM please cut me some slack

#10th hunger games #the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #idk how to tag this #treech tbosas #tbosas treech #treech #lamina x treech #tbosas lamina #lamina tbosas #lamina #district 7 #catching fire #alternate universe #fix it au #is it a fix it if they get more traumatized? #story ideas #idk what else to tag #I wanna tag Tanner but he’s mentioned only once so I don’t think he counts as a whole tag?

[ecliip]

SLUGCAT REDESIGNS YIPPEE

hello rain world community please click for higher quality (downpour spoilers btw)

also lots of design rambling underneath the cut. warning its very long and all over the place

-OKAYOKAY so you may notice that Survivor, Monk, and Gourmand all have similar markings- darker back patch, light tummy, tipped ears/stalks- this is because Gourmand is their grandpa in my interpretation!! they share traits because famly..

-neither Survivor nor Monk are fully grown, though Survivor is almost an adult. theyre the slugcat equivalent of teenagers. thats why theyre a little shorter than everyone else. however Enot and Rivulet are fully grown, Rivulet is just built for a different environment and Enots a fucked up inversion of Survivor

-Hunter, of course, gots the rots. i dont know why nobody utilizes Hunters scarred eye in HLL designs tbh- because the scar and the closed eye together make an X shape. and you know what else has an X shape? rot cyst. food for your thoughts :)

-the feds don't want you to know this but you can make any slugcat of your choice as fat and round as you want and nobody can stop you because they are your slugcat designs. anyways chubby arti :) and chubby nightcat :) and plump monk :)

-Nightcat has little silver splotches because I SAID SO. the silver bits by their eyes were actually inspired by Moonwatcher from Wings of Fire with those silver teardrop scales by her eyes, i always thought that was cool. my WoF phase haunts me to this day,,, also Nightcats ears point sideways because its cute

-okay you're probably wondering what the FUCK is up with Enot. the answer: who knows??? i made them La Creatura. theyre a little freak of nature who shouldnt exist but they glitched into existence or something and they have four ears and four hands and six eyes as a result

-Gourm... im love Gourm... theyre the second tallest slugcat, Spearmaster takes first place as resident stickbug

-okay so! if you may notice, pre-canon event Arti and current Arti have some differences. previous Arti has some little scars, and a darker end to their tail. current Arti has burns that cover those. thats intentional! i like to think that when the incident happened, the anger and grief took them over, erasing all personhood in the eyes of both the scavs and theirself in favor of carnage and fury and destruction. the burns represent that. the signs of a life well lived, that little dot of personhood? gone, replaced only by rage and hurting and memories of a tragic incident. (dont worry Arti fans in my little au they arent sad and enraged forever, they do heal. eventually.)

-more design notes about Arti but their right leg is burnt and hurts to put too much pressure on, so they prefer exploding if they have a long distance to cover or somewhere to reach. also, i gave Arti a tailtip that resembles a wick that was a result of the burn scars, thank you @pansear-doodles for bein cool about people takin inspiration from your amazing designs!!

-Spearmaster is comically tall and i love that. they also have Suns's logo on the back of their head. its like a watermark! Hunter doesn't have a watermark because in my interpretation, the rot stuff was intentional, added by NSH as a ticking time bomb as a sort of motivation for Hunter, so like why bother claiming a slugcat thats gonna either ascend or experience a fate worse than death

-also the pearl experience left a permanent scar for Spears because why not

-Rivulet.. the funny fishie.... i made almost zero changes to my orevious design of them because it is perfect. just added like some extra gills. theye very short and have little ears because little ears probably help with swimming and stuff to be like aerodynamic. they also have those little flaps on their side like nudibranches!! lil reference to sea slugs :)

-Saint takes inspiration from lynxes (ears) and sea bunnies (the spots!!). Saint is also the oldest slugcat here. i made their forehead dots eyes because that is COOL !!!! i love extra eyes. also chest floof :)

-Survivor and Monks parents had to take care of THREE pups ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT A COLONY TO SUPPORT THEM and they have zero special abilities to their name unlike Arti or Gourmand. theyre gonna be a little scuffed up

-Arti's pups are a mix between a carnivorous slugcat (Arti) and a regular slugcat (whoever Arti had kids with). the blue pup has a diet like Gourmands, where it can eat meat but it wont get as much out of it as a carnivorous slugcat. the green pup has the typical Slugcat diet.

i'll update this if i think of anything else to add!!!

#rain world #rain world downpour #downpour spoilers #survivor rain world #rain world survivor #monk rain world #rain world monk #rain world hunter #hunter rain world #nightcat #nightcat rain world #gourmand #rain world gourmand #artificer #rain world artificer #spearmaster #rain world spearmaster #rain world rivulet #rivulet #saint rain world #rain world saint #hunter long legs #ecliip art #ecliip rambles

[the-eeveekins]

The 20th Day of G-Witch: Not the Best Way

Elan & Norea had great chemistry in these short moments, it's just a shame that the more I watch S2, the less I enjoy this little side plot. I think either the time could have been better spent elsewhere or these characters could have been better spent doing something else.

I know Suletta & Miorine barely spending any time together in S2 is a sticking point for many (even myself). That said, you cannot deny that even if they weren't physically together for long, they were almost always thinking about each other and making choices with the other in mind. Even if the relationship isn't on screen as much as we'd like, it undoubtedly is a core aspect of moving the plot forward in S2.

I appreciate that when Miorine went into negotiations with Benerit Group talking points and motivations, the Earthian Delegation immediately told her off and made it abundantly clear she has essentially zero respect or authority as a member of the group.

But it also went to show that, when she dropped the Group's BS, and came to them with something from her company, something she was passionate about that wasn't directly connected to the Benerit Group and was even worked on by Earthians, she made progress towards working together with them.

Here we see a wild tanuki, rummaging through the fridge for some food.

This is arguably my favorite Suletta face in the whole show. Caught in the act digging through the fridge in the dark? Suletta is the most relatable Gundam protagonist ever.

This scene is so important because not only does Suletta realize that she hasn't lost everything, but that Earth House still sees her as a friend, worth caring for even though she's done nothing by lay in bed for days. For a girl who measures her self-worth almost entirely based on how useful she thinks she is to others, having others openly love her just for being her and not for anything she's done is a major boost to her self-esteem and how she values herself.

This was the episode where, even when I was watching it for the first time, I started to dislike Guel. He kind of arrogantly says he doesn't believe her can trust Miorine with negotiations, and then the first thing he does when they arrive it ask Miorine to do them herself so he can chase after some kid. A kid he doesn't seem to eager to help, by the way. I know the Academy is run by Grassley, but as the head of one of the three major companies in the Benerit Group, you'd think he'd try and at least tell the kid he'd see what he could do with his connections, but he's completely dismissive of Seto, despite seeing the conditions on Earth first hand.

At this point it was pretty clear he didn't actually care strongly about Earth and was focused completely on the company. And running off like a hothead to Shaddiq.

One interesting thing in this scene is the implication that Sophie & Norea were members of Ochs Earth even though they were obviously members of Dawn of Fold and had been for some time based on previous information. Ochs Earth (and by extension the SAL) provided the Lfrith Ur and Thorn to DoF for the sake of helping them destabilize the group, likely starting with the Plant Quetta operation. Either it's a weird contradiction, or the implication is that Ochs Earth was training Sophie & Norea as Gundam pilots well beforehand.

Regarding Prospera's dialogue: Obviously she still bears a grudge that GUND medical technology was weaponized by Ochs Earth in order to receive funding to continue development. This not only led to the downfall of the Vanadis Institute and the death of her husband, mentor and colleagues, but with the revelation that Ochs Earth was secretly kept alive by the SAL to continue developing Gundams in secret, it also means that basically everyone responsible for burying the medical technology in the first place got away with it without serious consequences.

And since the Group itself is so behind on developing Gundams thanks to the Cathedra Agreement, Ochs Earth is currently the biggest threat to her plans, as the only way to feasibly stop Quiet Zero would be with a Gundam that could overcome the override. And while finding pilots to stay alive in Score 5 long enough to do it would be difficult, if not impossible, better to wipe out the weapons now on the chance they find someone.

(They did.)

Shaddiq is still an absolute creep when it comes to Miorine.

This is a great shot. You can just barely make out the Aerial ominously floating amid the smoke in the background. It really helps sell that it's now the antagonistic Gundam of the series.

The theme of this episode is that sometimes people make terrible choices with good intentions because at the time it was seemingly the best or only option available. And in truth it's a running theme for a large part of the show. Armed with what she now knows about her mother and Ericht and seeing what's happening, Suletta realized that even though it hurt her, Ericht was only trying to protect Suletta from being dragged into their mother's plans.

And while it's not stated here, presumably she makes the same connection to Miorine's actions.

Aside from the issues with episode 15 in retrospect, I continue to have no problems with the pacing of S2 up to this point. Yeah there's characters who I wish had more screentime or were used better, but the pacing feels fine and it hasn't caused any issues with the story yet. It's really starting next episode that I thought things started to go off the rails a little, and time wasted on side characters really started to affect the main plot.

#25 days of g witch #g witch #the witch from mercury #gundam #g witch spoilers

[spacexseven]

omg i REMEMBER that line from when I read the day I picked up dazai! very good LN I liked it a lot. maybe that line made me subconsciously start thinking about eelzai lol.

I've been meaning to bug u more about yanderes As Is My Brand but I have SO MANY ideas banging around in my cavernous skull that I end up not being able to pick one and just rambling like a lunatic in my notes app. I will share a little bit about sea monster dazai since he was brought up, though: I've been considering two big things. 1) I remember a while ago reading that there is a belief that a mermaids kiss can allow you to breathe underwater, if dazai happens to learn about THAT little tidbit of information you KNOW hes gonna run away with it! or, swim away with it, rather. he has to test this new theory right away! come on, get in! he has ZERO ulterior motives for insisting you let him kiss you its JUST an experiment come on please? Please? or if we're going with the storyline where ur mad at him for such a frivolous reason as he attacked and tried to eat you (it was only gonna be a BITE! see, not so bad! its was all a misunderstanding pls come back...) it could be a little stunt on his end to get you to trust him again, etc. hed be a bit frustrated if the effect was only temporary, as this puts a wrench in his plan to take you down to his cave and keep you there forever, but the silver lining is now he can demand kisses from you every few hours and have an excuse as to why. 2) in most depictions of sea monsters I've seen, even ones that are mostly humanoid, theyre rather large! like, almost completely dwarfing pirate ships level large! can probably pick a human up with one hand large! there's even a scene in the little mermaid where Ursula gets that big, so do you think dazai would be able to do that? maybe he sticks to a manageable- but still rather Long thanks to the tail- size usually out of laziness and a desire to stick near the shallow shores (cuz he likes the food better, not cuz thats where his little darling lives. just a coincidence.) where there's less room for him to get to his full size. but once he's in the open ocean? ohhh boy.... maybe try to avoid going put too far on any boats, darling, lest dazai decides to start showing off.

- 🩹

finally answering this oh my god i am so sorry again for the delay 100/10 would read ur notes app rambles you have so much fun thoughts it's insane

cw: yandere character, obsessive behavior, non-con kissing, descriptions of sea monster! dazai (including him being unnaturally large, eel-like body, sharp teeth, etc), manipualtive behavior

please don't proceed if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable!!

i do hc eelzai (cute name btw) as being Huge. he can sort of 'elongate' his body when he needs it, but usually sticks to a length of around 10 feet. thing is, when he's underwater and darling is on the surface, they can't tell how big he actually is. relative to regular people, dazai does have larger hands, but it isn't to an alarming extent. it's pretty normal for something not-human to be bigger than an ordinary human, after all. i'd think it's easier to navigate this way, 'cos dragging around a long body isn't the most efficient way of getting around. there's no doubt in my mind he can definitely go bigger. pirate ship big? possibly, but he hasn't really tried to see how much he can grow. it's too much trouble, too easy for some pesky human to spot him. if darling wanted to see, though, he would entertain them without a thought.

THE KISS THING that's so cute actually but not so much in this context. eelzai hears about this from chuuya (aka the most reliable source of information in the seas) and immediately decides it is the perfect solution for all his problems. now he has an excuse to kiss darling all the time, and can keep them with him underwater where their annoying human companions won't bother them. in the 'darling is mad because dazai is insane and tries to attack them' timeline, dazai lures darling in with the promise of breathing underwater despite not knowing if the kiss theory holds any water. what if mermaids were referring to sirens, like chuuya, and not monsters like him? of course he doesn't tell darling this, opting to just lie through his teeth about how they can finally see all the pretty things under the sea up close. what did they mean, asking if he was telling the truth? does he look like a liar? would he risk darling's safety over a rumour? he's almost offended by their lack of trust in him.

fortunately for him, it does work. unfortunately for darling, it has a pretty short duration period. this means if they want to stay longer, they have to kiss him more. dazai thinks it's an amazing deal, of course. but if this happens to a darling who isn't very well acquainted with dazai yet, it's just terrifying to be dragged underwater and sloppily kissed and later dragged down deep by a large monster with too-sharp teeth and a dangerous look in his eyes.

#yandere bsd #yandere x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai 🐟 #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai #yandere dazai osamu #dazai x reader #ask 🐟 #bsd 🐟 #anon 🐟 #dazai 🩹 🐟 #mer au 🐟 #eelzai 🐟 #kidding but it's a cute tag no? #idk about you but freakishly large eelzai is totally up my alley lolol

[callmearcturus]

Okay here are the Mission Impossible grades now that I've seen them all

Mission Impossible 1: A-Tier

STILL LODGED IN MY FUCKING BRAIN. I did not go into this one expecting it to be that good. I only shouted at DePalma once I think and mostly I was staring in fascinated horror at the sexually-charged manipulative thriller unfolding. I am obsessed with the dynamic between Ethan, Phelps, and Claire, there is some SHIT going on there, the queer reading of this movie is off the charts. Would rewatch any day.

Mission Impossible 2 Silent Movie Recut: C-Tier

This is a bad fucking movie but Punct and I were screaming for 90% of the film, it was so fucking fun and stupid. Granted, I don't think we would have survived if we weren't watching the recut, BUT nothing will ever be funnier than Ethan doing a backflip and then mid-air changing to a down-kick. I was so shocked at the AUDACITY and the STUPIDITY I immediately rewound the scene to watch it again. Amazing. Totally batshit. Ethan why are you kicking everything you are a punchman.

Mission Impossible 3: Trash Tier

This movie was a nightmare. I feel actively bad for Cruise and Monaghan bringing their A game to a shit-tier script. This movie has MULTIPLE PROBLEMS. There were multiple sequences that were so poorly shot that I couldn't follow what the fuck was happening. The constant unnecessary cuts and the rapid tempo gave me a headache. JJA is incapable of letting a shot breathe at all, like if he doesn't cut every three to five seconds his head will explode. Also this script was ATROCIOUS. Fucking WHAT. There is no introducton to the team, making them feel completely tertiary. That line about sleeping with your sister catapulted me out of the movie like an ejection from a jet plane. The entire anti-god speech was peak 'take the keyboard away from JJA.' And WHAT was with the random bondage mask scene??? Was JJA like "sorry i have no idea how to keep the plot moving unless Ethan literally can't speak in this scene so here's the IMF-issued Unsexy Bondage Mask."

Also this Jack Bauerification of Ethan Hunt pisses me off. Ethan Hunt should not use assault rifles, that's not who he is, JJA meet me in the pit.

Ghost Protocol: A-Tier

Stupid and delightful and finally some good fucking food. The first of the McQuarrie Trilogy. After enduring MI3 I want to kiss McQuarrie on the fucking mouth for writing this. You actually get to know the team! There is time spent establishing each of their dynamics with Ethan! Finally Ethan is doing sneaky shit instead of just shooty shit! The Burj! The comedy! This is a 2 hour episode of Leverage and I fucking love it. Thank you, zero notes.

Rogue Nation: S-Tier

Oh babygirl here we fucking go. Not only McQuarrie on script (with help from good writers) but he's in the director chair, welcome to the party, hardy. I L O V E this movie. It has supplanted GP as my comfort watch of the series. Ilsa Faust is an excellent addition to the team with a lot of edge to her and the way she drives the plot thrills me chills me and fulfills me. And while she's kind of the love interest that is not even remotely the plot of the story, the story is crunchy with Solomon Lane serving such fuckin good vibes. He has actual motivation beyond "hello i am the baddie" he has thoughts and motivations and he also is STAGGERINGLY PETTY. Also I cannot tell what's my favorite bit of this one, the part where Ethan is fucking OUT OF IT after he gets resuscitated or when Ethan goes off the deep end.

This movie really said "Benji Dunn is 90% of Ethan's impulse control" and it was RIGHT! Thank you McQuarrie, I love you.

Fallout: S-Tier

I'm fucking unhinged about this movie. The batshit motorcycle chase in Paris, the HALO jump, the helicopter hijacking. Ethan's continued moral decay as his ethical compass begins to realign, and the way it fucks him over. Solomon fucking Lane back to haunt the shit out of everyone. That FUCKING bathroom brawl jesus fuck. Everyone is on their goddamn A game, they are giving everything. Watching the final act is like a prolonged heart attack. Also the cinematography and lighting is jawdroppingly gorgeous. Also Julia is AMAZING. HER SCENE WITH LUTHER MAKES ME EMOTIONAL.

Not only do I have no notes, I want McQuarrie to give me notes. Goddamn. Ethan Hunt is babygirl and his tired eyes give me feelings.

There it is, my lukewarm takes.

#mission impossible