#[ my fucking connection is still fucked up and i can't even connect to aim. what kind of pathetic life do i live.

[jiyansthesis]

LEON KENNEDY (post-re4) x reader

summary — you and leon never thought what would lead to the two of you fucking would be a surprise zombie and an aphrodisiac

note — a little something i had in the drafts for a while. i was gonna post it when re4make came out but i totally forgot. might as well post it while im getting traction on my other leon post ^^

tags — smut, aphrodisiac, basically in public, rough, overstimulation, fem bodied reader, fem implied pet names

i am not responsible for any minors that interact + nsfw below the cut

not proofread

"we're gonna get our asses kicked," you groaned, focusing on the scope of your gun which you used to survey your surroundings.

"no, you're gonna get your ass kicked. i can hold my own," leon shot back, trailing ahead of you.

there was a red wash over the two of you as you ran down the hallway, attempting to look for some vials before they get destroyed by the zombies lurking around.

"you don't happen to know where these serums are, do you?" you questioned, a zombie coming out the shadows only for you to quickly aim and fire your gun at its head, it immediately flying backwards to land lifelessly on the floor. "this is like some bad game of whack-a-mole. except without the hammer. and the moles are zombies. and we could possibly die. i'm getting tired of it."

"do you ever stop talking?" he opened a door, revealing a room with cabinets of liquids and something that looked like a chamber with a glass window.

"adding a bit of fun into this mission, leon. i can't just walk around shooting zombies and not have something to say."

he grunted, and went over to the cabinets, grabbing a container of blue liquid.

"this is it. i'll get all of these, you keep watch." you nodded in acknowledgement, considering the fact that leon was your superior.

you peered out the hallway you had come from, saw that it was clear, and shut the door, locking it.

then you decided to go into the connecting room, just in case something was in there.

the red emergency light was still messing with your eyes, and so you turned on your flashlight, scanning the room.

there were more bottles of substances. but it didn't look like the blue ones leon was getting. these ones were a reddish-pink, and had a certain glow to them. you stepped closer to it to examine it, but you swung around as soon as you heard a growl. you unsheathed the dagger around your waist.

the blade lodged in the zombie's throat, your reaction time saving you as usual. it crumpled over, but bumped into the display, causing the cases to break.

you thought it was a liquid, but it was like you could see the cloud of fumes rise from the broken vials. quickly you put a hand over your mouth and nose and ran out the room, but not before you caught a whiff of the strangely sweet, almost sugary flower smell.

you shut the heavy doors behind you, and let out a gasp of air. leon looked towards you, hurrying over as you fell to your knees.

"hey, you alright? what happened?" he held onto your arms, lifting you up and placing you in an office chair.

"th-there was a zombie. i killed it and it. . . it bumped into these flasks of pink stuff." your hands went to wrap around your stomach, a cramp suddenly appearing.

"pink stuff?" he asked

"yeah," you grimaced with pain. "there was this thing that came out of the broken tubes. it was like a gas or something."

"and how are you feeling right now?"

you felt immensely uncomfortable. there was a cramp in your lower abdomen and it felt like something was dripping out of you. your legs squirmed, not liking the feeling of your wet panties.

"i can-can't explain it." you stammered out. you think you know what were in those things, but you didn't want to make it awkward for you and leon. of course, you've known him since raccoon city, and congratulated him when he came back with the president's daughter. but you knew damn well you guys weren't this close.

even if you desperately wished you were.

"it hurts there?" he gestured to your hand over your abdomen, you nodded.

"it might've been something toxic." he glanced around the room at all the computers, lucky enough to find one that was unlocked.

you heard him type away as you shut your eyes. the pain was becoming excruciating, and you didn't know why you felt your crotch throbbing.

not only that, but your thoughts were bunching up, and you couldn't think straight. what were you here for again?

"hey, i think i know what it is." you felt him nudge you. "but you might not like it."

"i think i know what it is too. doesn't take much thinking to find out." you winced as you shifted in your seat.

he raised an eyebrow. "you know?"

"it's obviously an aphrodisiac. there's no other explanation." you slurred out.

"well, it's not a normal one. normal ones wear off with time, but this one. . . you need something for it to wear off. or you might die."

"die!?" you exclaimed, ignoring the pain of you suddenly standing upright. this definitely cleared your mind. "for fucks sake, leon. i didn't want to die from a fucking drug today!"

he let out a breath of air. "it's easily fixable. but i need you to trust me." his voice got a bit more husky.

"i always trust you, leon." you assured him. he hesitated, and slowly lowered you back down on the seat.

his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your tactical pants. "may i?" he looked up to you. never in a million years would you have thought you'd have leon kennedy under you.

you could already tell what had to be done for you to get rid of this feeling, and you gave him the okay. well, at least you get to have one of your fantasies out the way while also avoiding death from aphrodisiac.

he pulled down your pants, quickly followed by your underwear.

"didn't think to tell me about what was happening down here?" he smirked. "you're so wet."

you whined at the cold air, and urged him to hurry up and stop teasing you.

he followed your request, and instead of inching in his fingers like you'd expected, he immediately latched onto your dripping cunt, and you arched your back.

"leon, fuck!" you moaned out, a hand immediately going to grab a handful of his hair.

he hummed in amusement, leading you to clench your thighs around his head. leon quickly moved his hands to grab your plush thighs and spread them apart, locking them in place no matter how hard you tried to escape it.

it was like he wasn't even thinking about the aphrodisiac. it was all for his and your pleasure, rather than as an extremely awkward and embarrassing task that had to be done. or he was just too good at the job at hand.

every stroke of his tongue had your legs shaking, and you pulled at his hair every time he sucked on your clit too hard. it felt like a few minutes before you felt the buildup of something in your stomach, quickly overshadowing the pain you had previously felt.

"leon, m' gonna-"

his hands left your legs and went straight to your pussy. "make a mess for me, baby," he said as your hips bucked up violently and you let out what was almost a scream.

you panted, and you thought that at this point you'd be satisfied, the pain would be gone, and the two of you could put this all behind you and go on your merry way.

but you were wrong. it was like it got even worse.

your thoughts were scrambled, and all you could think about was the bulge in his pants. and it definitely wasn't his gun.

"why'd you have to do. . . all that?" you stammered out. you also realized he called you baby. your cheeks became even hotter.

"can't get my gloves dirty. and i wanted a taste." he winked. "are you feeling better?"

you shook your head, involuntarily grinding against the seat. maybe if you imagined it was his thigh. . . you wouldn't have to ask him to fuck you senseless. you were already shameless enough, with the fact he had just finished eating you out like his final supper, and the effects of the aphrodisiac were not helping.

just the sound of his voice and his smell was enough to send you into a frenzy.

"do you need some more help?" he began unbuckling his pants.

"yes, need mo' help," you whined. you never thought what would get you into leon s. kennedy's pants would have to be a mystery sex drug in a science lab. if you knew, maybe you would've done this way beforehand.

you almost drooled at how big he was. you would've put your lips right around him at that moment, but he was already lining himself up with you entrance.

"you ready, princess?"

"jus' hurry up," you moved your hips closer to him, sliding the tip inside which caused you to whimper. deciding not to let you suffer any longer, he slammed the rest of his throbbing cock inside of you. with every thrust he did, you were a whining, blabbering mess.

"does that feel good?" he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you could tell that the effects of the drug were making you more sensitive.

"s' good leon," you threw your arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss, which he quickly reciprocated. he was biting on your lips, his tongue occasionally slipping through your lips.

"i fucking love the sounds you make," he got out once the two of you broke away for air. it was like he was feral and had the aphrodisiac himself, pounding into you without giving you time to breathe.

"fuck, leon, don't stop," you could feel tears streaming down your face as your mouth gaped wide open to let out all your noises.

no doubt you were attracting monsters, but that didn't matter when you had this hot man you've been pinning for for years making you dumb on his cock.

he admired the way he had you already clawing for whatever you could grab a hold on, which was his back, and the look that you gave him.

he'd wanted to fuck you for so long, although that developed from him falling in love after the events in raccoon city. you'd kept him sane, believe it or not.

thank god he had this reason to finally have you under him.

"you gonna cum for me, yeah?" he began relentlessly hitting your g-spot, which had you screaming. he left open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

you didn't answer. or well, you couldn't with how he practically fucked the breath out of you.

not receiving an answer, he quickly took you out the chair and placed you on top of the table. you whined as he pulled out, but were quickly shut up by him thrusting inside of you again.

and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, the new angle caused him to almost brush up against your cervix. his hand made its way to your tummy and pressed down on the slight bump, making your hands fly up to cover your mouth.

"hey, pretty girl. i want to hear everything." he persuaded you to place your hands to stabilize yourself on the office desk.

"i-mm, i think i'm gonna make a mess," you warned.

"you gonna come for me? good girl," he praised, and with those words he hungrily pressed his lips to yours, devouring your sounds of ecstasy as you convulsed with your climax.

you started feeling overstimulated, the pain and sensitivity mixing in with the pleasure.

"le-leon, jus' cum in me," you pleaded, feeling your third climax coming already. maybe it was because you were practically intoxicated, or it was because you haven't had sex in so long, but you were almost self-conscious about how short of a time it took for you to cum.

"yeah? you want me to fill you up baby? do i make you feel too good?" a pool of your cum was pooling on the desk.

"yes! wan' you to, wan' you to," you trailed off as he grunted and let out a few soft, low moans, and you felt a warmth seep inside of you.

slowly he pulled out, which still had you twitch, and he looked almost apologetic about that. he searched the place for something to clean you up with, before ripping a piece off an abandoned lab coat, and slowly wiping you up with it. the table on the other hand, required the whole coat to wipe up.

he helped you put your pants back on as you regained and put your thoughts back in order.

"holy shit, we're at least twenty minutes late from meeting up at the extraction point," you checked the watch on your wrist. the two of you scurry to grab all your things as well as what you came here for, and went on your out the building. leon then called chris, who was pissed about the time delay.

as you left, it was strangely silent, as if the two of you had scared the monsters away rather than attract them.

"never thought that'd ever happen," you admitted as the two of you made it outside and to the rendezvous.

"never thought i'd fuck you during a mission in the middle of nowhere." he agreed. "how about dinner later, pretty girl?"

"isn't it a bit late for that?"

"it's never too late to take a lady like you on a fancy date. you deserve it." he shouted as the wind from a helicopter overtook your hearing.

"hmm, i'll think about it!" you grinned, saluting. "nice work out there."

"if that was my real job, i'd be doing it all the time."

[wanderingblindly]

WanderingBlindly Fanfic Masterlist:

Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri

By Touch (1.6k words, onshot)

Oscar's fingers shift, reaching for Lando's wrist and moving them both. "The hardest thing to learn, I think," Oscar starts, voice barely audible over Lando's heart, his shallow breaths. "Is letting yourself feel." Delicately, like one would touch the wings of a butterfly, Oscar ghosts Lando's fingers across his cheekbone. He's soft, as if the pink under his skin is a gently unfurling rose petal after spring rain.

Oscar Piastri's (Full Homo) Guide to Fucking Your Boyfriend (10.3k words, 1/2 Chapters)

"Has my girlfriend ever kissed a guy before?" Oscar's eyes move to Lando's lips, lashes fluttering gold in the setting sun. Girlfriend. His mind goes silent, lips parted and eyelids heavy. It feels... nice. Hearing that. It feels good, even. Like Oscar's claiming him, possessing him. Girlfriend. He whispers back, feather-light. "No." Oscar looks back up, catches his eyes. "Do you want to?"

Lando Norris's (No Homo) Guide to Getting a Girlfriend (10k words, oneshot)

"Bet I could teach you." Oscar's eyes snap back to his, wider than the time Lando suggested they go skydiving in the off-season. "Teach me –" "The Lando Norris guide to getting laid." Oscar pulls a face. "That's not –" "Getting a girlfriend, then." Lando amends, holding up his largely-empty glass in cheers. "Cheers to not being a virgin, mate."

We're Not Really Strangers (4.1k words, oneshot)

"Fine," Desperate to move away from his increasingly not PR-friendly train of thought, Lando snags another card. "What's the first thing you noticed about me?" "Your eyes." Oscar freezes as soon as he's said it, mouth clamped shut and brows raised – shocked. At himself. Or: Lando and Oscar play ice breakers for a PR video, what could happen?

Impasse of Biting (12.5k words, 2/2 chapters)

"Maybe it would be good for you, something like this." Lando looks away from the espresso machine, over at Charles. "Like what?" "A vampire." "Charles," Lando breathes out, leaning against the back of his workstation and crossing his arms. "I've told you, it's not..." it's a me problem. He's the one that can't seem to connect to people, he's the one that's not noteworthy enough to want.

Too Close to Touch (2.3k words, oneshot)

"Sit up," Oscar groans, aiming for a more demanding tone than he can gather with Lando's mouth sucking lightly at his neck – not enough to bruise. Lando makes a noise in response, petulant and determined, that makes Oscar's head spin. Like he's addicted to him, unwilling to let go. Like this isn't some fucking insane bet that they made during the driver's parade. Or, Lando and Oscar make a bet: how important are hands when it comes to kissing, anyways?

It'll Pass (5.7k words, oneshot)

"Don't wanna win if you're not there." Lando says, pinkies still intertwined, looking Oscar dead in the eyes. He says it like it's common sense, like it's a normal thing to say to a teammate. Like it's not the closest Oscar will ever get to hearing I love you. "Promise." They let go.

Watch Me (5.5k words, oneshot)

It's half seven, and just like nearly every other day since he's moved in, his neighbor is in his bathroom – poorly concealed by the frosted glass window that's not nearly as frosted as it should be. He's standing on his toes, bending over his sink to get closer to the mirror, clad in next to nothing but short, black briefs. His eyes roam higher, heartrate spiking when he sees it, just like every other time he's seen it: Oscar's neighbor, a seemingly unmated omega, wears his collar. At home. Alone. When he's wearing next to nothing else.

Time After Time (3.k words, oneshot)

It's him, it's definitely... him. But it's him from years ago, narrower in the shoulders and more uncertain in his smile. He recognizes what he's wearing, remembers agonizing over it for the better part of an hour with George and Alex, both laying on his tiny dormitory bed with eager eyes. It's their first date.

Late Nights (1.3k words, oneshot)

Oscar leans forward and rummages through the bag, nabbing a pair of chopsticks and an unopened container. "Want me to stay?" Lando's heart sinks; has he been home late so often that Oscar would offer? "Babe, it's really gonna be a late one, I can't --" He talks around his mouthful of noodles. "I don'mind."

Someone in Seattle (11.6k words, oneshot)

“Could I, like… would you be my model for it? Maybe?” “That’s what the coffee was for then?” “No, that was, uh.” He can feel his face heating up, skin undeniably turning a deeper shade of red under Lando’s gaze – mirthful and a little something else. “That was different.” “Gonna say what?” “No.”

Keep Talking (2.7k words, oneshot)

Closing his eyes, pulling a deep breath in through his nose, Lando lowers himself to the floor – sitting directly next to Oscar’s spread knees. “Yeah?” Oscar asks, voice already softer – leading. He’s still sat casually against the sofa, looking down at Lando with warm, understanding eyes. Lando nods in response, eyes fluttering closed as he lets himself lean against Oscar’s leg, rubbing his cheek against his sweatpants.

Nouveau Hot (3.5k words, oneshot)

Lando’s hand moves faster, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each stroke, each flick of his wrist. Easy muscle memory, it should be enough but — “Need you, need you, need you now, I- Osc, please I -oh fuck,” He’s rambling, the words spilling out faster as he desperately chases release — hips fucking up uselessly into his hand. “That’s too bad, isn’t it?”

Lando v Media (1.2k words, oneshot)

He’s very aware that fucking his teammate isn’t exactly the best PR move he’s ever come up with. And he didn’t need to be told that, to be clear. Though, to be even clearer, he was told that – Jon made quick work of pointing it out, as did the HR representative, as did the PR representative, as did Andrea. But again, he was already aware, so that all felt really excessive.

Bite Down (Show Me How) (1.2k words, oneshot)

“I’m a virgin, by the way.” Smooth start. Oscar, to his irritating credit, doesn’t even look at him from his spot, leaning casually against the elevator wall. “Yeah?” He turns his head, giving Lando a look that makes him realize he’s not the one in charge here. “Wanna do something ‘bout that?”

You Bring Me Closer to God (9.7k words, oneshot)

They’re still close enough to whisper, Lando’s hand holding him in place as he grins wildly. “You like it rough, Osc?” He doesn’t even care if it’s just a bit, just Lando’s stage persona washing over him like it does all his fans. Looking up at Lando, looking at the lipstick he smeared across his cupid’s bow and chin – it’s like he’s seen god. Felt it on his lips, tasted it on his tongue. Oscar grabs him by the nape of the neck without a second thought, pulling them together just as viciously as the first time. Or: In which Lando is a very slutty front-man for a small band seeking their big break, Oscar is an enamored bartender, and Jenson's bar brings them together.

Hot Pink Ring Pops (Would You Marry Me If I Was a Worm?) (4.2k words, oneshot)

“Oscar isn’t ever gonna marry me if I’m a worm, Jon!” He laments, the words uneven and jagged as he sobs (which, Jon realizes, can’t be good for whatever injuries he’s possibly sustained from the crash). Somehow more importantly, what the fuck did Lando just say?

Is It Gay to Watch Your Teammate on Tiktok? (Asking for a Friend) (12.3k words, 2/2 Chapters)

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating. It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”. And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that? 

Mortifying! Anyways, (2.3k words, oneshot)

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut– “Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin. “Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

If I'm Barbie, and You're Barbie, then Who's Driving the Bus? (814 words, oneshot)

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment. Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie. Charli XCX, no less. 

[astaroth1357]

We Need To Talk About Nightbringer (the Person, Not the Game)

I'm still scratching my head over what Nightbringer's goal is here... How is MC involved? Why send them back in time? And, of course, who are they??

SPOILERS Up to Lesson 12 Below Cut

The Fuck is the Goal Here??

Sending the MC back just to form pacts makes no goddamn sense. If the MC acquiring pacts was the real aim, then that mission was already accomplished in the present-day. There's something more here.

Why send MC back to RIGHT NOW? What about making pacts AT THIS TIME is desirable to Nightbringer? Is the end game even having the pacts at all...?

I posit that Nightbringer wants war, specifically, another war between angels and demons. The imagery of scales brings to mind the fragile balance of peace that Diavolo was mentioning between the realms before. RAD isn't built yet, his goal to improve relations is still in its infancy, and the times are so tumultuous that MC risks an all out fight starting just being there. So if Nightbringer wants to make things come to blows, then this is the PERFECT time to send them to.

However...

What is this "path to happiness" all about? What does Nightbringer think will make the MC most happy...? And what about THEIR happiness is linked to his? Is he assuming that in a war of the three realms, MC would side with the demons and thus if demons win then MC will be glad? That doesn't really track with the MC as presented in game... They're generally shown as a peacemaker or bridge builder. I don't think a war would make them happy at all!

Ultimately, I don't think we can answer this question in any way that makes sense until we have a better idea of WHO Nightbringer is so....

Who is Nightbringer??

It's Barbs

This goes for any version of Barbs: past, present, future, or even an alternate self I guess. This only makes sense because we're dealing with a demon who does time travel and there's only one demon we know who fits this bill but... why?

I can't imagine any reason why Barbatos would betray Diavolo, at least the one we know. This guy is so loyal to his lord that he's the ONLY character who won't completely kowtow to MC's whims even in the OG game. His true loyalty was always to Diavolo. Not the realm, not demons, DIAVOLO. And if Diavolo seeks peace, then why on earth would Barbs want to cause a war?? Is he more bitter about things than we thought...?

If it's a different version of Barbs, then I guess this goes out the window, but even then what's an alternate Barbs care about this world specifically? What would he hope to gain? MC? Why?? The means are all here, but I just can't figure out the motive, so...

It's Not Barbs, but Connected to Barbs

You know. I've been thinking a lot about this and I've been considering how, thematically, it could be appropriate for Diavolo not to be the only one with a progenitor/parental figure out of commission. We can assume that Daddy Devil must of had an attendant like Barbatos to aid him like Dia has Barbs so...

What if Nightbringer is the old King's previous attendant? And what's more, what if they aren't Barbs but related to Barbs? Like a sibling or parent? It's important to note that Barbs' time capabilities are not INTERNAL to him. It's his room of doorways to other timelines. Presumably, anybody with sufficient knowledge could inherit that room and just take over the role of the Devildom's time lord.

I know it goes against all of our previous notions to think that Barbatos was, at some point, just an everyday demon and not some primordial, OG force of nature but none of that was canon anyway. Something to think about.

It's Michael

I know people keep offering up this one, but I'm really not buying it... Yeah, Michael has always been this looming, shady figure over the OM universe and he's canonically and non-canonically done some eyebrow raising shit, but what's the motive here? Plus, Nightbringer's thematic ties to, well, night really feel more demon than angel... The Celestial Realm is always sunny, the Devildom is always dark. I think it's just a stretch...

Michael wanting another war could be interesting, especially since we've seen far more of angels being actively antagonistic to demons than the other way around, but I don't think that makes him Nightbringer. At most, he could end up being a shadow ally in his plot to bring everything to a head once again.

It's Solomon

In truth, even I don't think Nightbringer is the Solomon we're talking to. But I still think it's suspicious that all of this plays out so perfectly for our present-day Solo-pal... Personally, I take anything this guy tells us directly with a grain of salt since we know he'll lie openly, so here are the facts we're working with:

We are interacting with our present day Solomon (or at least one with knowledge of who we are and our timeline's events).

Solomon is the only one in this current space who knows of our full history in the OG timeline.

This Solomon put himself not only in the position of being the ONLY ONE who knows us that we can interact with, but happily isolated us from the brothers and made himself our main point of contact.

And last (and perhaps most importantly) HE'S STILL TRYING TO MAKE PACTS. He approaches Lucifer about it and successfully makes a pact with Asmo centuries before he's supposed to! If my guy is really from the present, that's like, Changing the Course of History 101! What the hell???

Let me present to you a theory. He is not present-day Solomon, sent back to help MC. He is past-Solomon, caught up to MC's identity through Barbs' time powers and just playing the part of our modern-day buddy. If he's from the past, he doesn't have to worry about changing the present timeline like we do because that ain't even him we've been speaking to. It feels like he has this bet going with Nightbringer... they have some kind of wager and MC is key to it. They're the one who'll tip the scales and Solomon is trying to get us to stay on his side.

It's Not Solomon, but Connected to Solomon

There's something off about Solomon that everybody, LITERALLY everybody, makes comments on: how he doesn't seem human anymore.

The OM timeline introduced the idea that a person can become something else, no matter what they started out as. The brothers were angels, but they fell, so they became demons. Simeon violated angel rules, so he was made into a human. The idea of corruption related to Solomon has always stuck in the back of my mind... The guy has over 70 pacts, he's lived for several centuries at least, and there's just something NOT RIGHT about him...

When Solomon and Nightbringer are speaking to each other, this line stuck out to me.

I find this comment so damn weird. If Nightbringer is a demon and has always been a demon, why would Solomon feel the need to lampshade this? He's pointing it out as if it's meant to get under Nightbringer's skin... Why state the obvious?

What if Nightbringer wasn’t always a demon?

Nightbringer refers to and brings up his demonness as much as Solomon brings up his humanness. That, to me, reeks of insecurity. They may not just be fighting on the lines between demons and humanity, but fighting each other/themselves to prove who's side they're actually on.

What if Nightbringer is a fully-corrupted Solomon? Either a Solomon in the future who's fucking around with the past or a Solomon in this timeline/dimension that's trying to use MC to cause destruction for his world??

..... Okay, I do know this is a bit of a reach. As much as I would love to blame the sorcerer, Nightbringer still seems like a being who's just... been around a while. Far too long to start fucking up shit now. It's possible that if he is from the future and just hopping through time, there's nothing stopping him from going back however far he wants to, but then you could get into the "You are your own grandfather" paradox and the next thing you know we're in another installment of Kingdom Hearts where time is our worst enemy.

HOWEVER, the idea of corruption DOES bring me to my wildest theory yet.

What if Nightbringer wants MC to become a demon...?

Think about it.

It could explain why Solomon is trying so hard to make MC remember and side with their humanity.

It could explain why Nightbringer sent them there under the guise of demon to start with.

It could be why he wants them to make their pacts again. He's trying to seduce them into fully embracing the demonic world through their connection with the brothers.

Humans die, right? Why not be a demon and not have to worry about it?

Throw away the Ring of Light.

Stay by your demons' sides.

Embrace the darkness.

Join the damned.

And when that big'ol battle that he wants happens, he'll have the most powerful sorcerer/sorceress, fully demonized, fighting for his side against God himself.

..... Or that's my spec script anyway. Probably too out there, but man would it be fun...

[fordtato]

From a Palestinian - I know this is long but read it anyways:

If any leftists on this fucking site are using antisemitism to further the Free Palestine movement, you're not fucking helping. Not just because there are Jewish Palestinians. Not just because it furthers the idea that the movement is rooted in antisemitism. And not just because the people who are ultimately going to be impacted by this "activism" are Palestinian families (like my own), who will be on the receiving end of the brunt of government retaliation. It simply isn't helpful and isn't right.

Gaza is an open-air prison, cut off from food and water and medicine and fuel. Even before this recent chapter of the conflict, its people are penned in and brutalized and kidnapped and imprisoned and murdered, without any true relief, and very often without mainstream attention. This is being carried out by the government of Israel (with US government support) and its military, and it is aimed at the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians, a people without any formal military or power. Palestinians in the country are being slaughtered, and Palestinians outside of the country are slowing losing their connection to their identity and homeland and need to watch as their brethren are unilaterally labeled as terrorists and "animals" and killed, raped and buried in rubble.

As a movement we need to acknowledge that Hamas is an antisemitic force. There is no justifying it or going around it. Internet leftists, you're so good at nitpicking at the past comments of online allies and finding the problematic thing someone said on twitter in 2018 and then never defending them again no matter what. But we can't do the same here with Hamas when leaders in the party are antisemitic and when people are dead? We need to defend Jewish people and that doesn't stop here. And nobody dare try to explain to me that this is what a revolution looks like. Those killed weren't all IDF soldiers. And don't explain to me that even colonization and occupation is violence (especially if you live in the US, a colonized nation stolen from indigenous people), because of course I understand that. Palestine has a right to defend itself against violence, but Hamas is explicitly antisemitic and we can't just stand against the ruthless killing of civilians only when it's Palestinian civilians.

Yes, it's complicated. YES this violence and the power vacuums that allow groups like Hamas to take power are very often the response to brutality, and a long-term symptom in the aftermath of European imperialism. We can acknowledge that and understand that and even be sympathetic to the historical context that allows this to unfold while still condemning the death of civilians. After all, being against the death of civilians is at the core of the Free Palestine movement.

Defending Jewish people does NOT mean dismissing the slaughter and literal genocide of Palestinians in Gaza. Defending Jewish people does not mean defending the actions of the Israeli government. And standing with Palestine and freeing it from brutality does NOT mean ignoring that antisemitism is fraught in the world to this day. One part of why Israel is able to garner civilian support despite the atrocities of its government is because not many other countries are taking in refugees of antisemitism, and historically most countries have never protected Jewish people EVER. That is something we need to acknowledge. And acknowledging that does not mean we justify the actions of the government of Israel, and it does not mean we are turning a blind eye to the occupation or the slaughter and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian civilians.

BTW, tone-policing Palestinians about how they talk about Israel while we are in mourning, and collectively witnessing the brutality our loved ones are facing, and literally watching our homeland get destroyed IS HORRIBLE. IT IS UNHELPFUL. IT IS INSENSITIVE AND TONE DEAF. Do not bring up Hamas in my fucking inbox, MY PEOPLE ARE BEING SLAUGHTERED AND LIKENED TO ANIMALS AND I AM FORCED TO WATCH.

The same applies to tone-policing Jewish people when they are getting death threats at synagogues and JCCs and/or are mourning loved ones in Israel. Yelling "but what about Palestine" whenever a Jewish person in America (who has literally nothing to do with the heinous acts of a foreign government entity) mentions they are grieving or afraid or getting death threats doesn't fucking do anything. This isn't activism.

We are all tired. We are all traumatized. We will feel this for generations.

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey, y'all. So we're almost done! This is the last chapter before an epilogue! I'll be sad to see this one go but I'm glad that it happened. Pls remember that reblogs and comments are appreciated! Also feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

<Previous Masterlist Next>

Chapter 10

Eddie's POV

Eddie was on cloud nine. He had the girl of his dreams, was finally happy in his major and passing his classes, and Corroded Coffin was steadily on the rise. 

Steve wouldn’t let him live it down, teasing him about the lovesick grin he had and how he ‘felt’ in his gut that you and Eddie would get together. 

Eddie felt a bit saddened by the fact that you had gotten together before finals, so you weren’t able to sleep over as much or go on a date yet. Eddie couldn’t wait to take you out and treat you. You were his girl now. 

But he also couldn’t shake this feeling. You were texting him still, sure, but you had seemed to be avoiding him even after finals, claiming that your job had you absolutely booked. 

Eddie couldn’t help but feel like maybe you were avoiding him now after sleeping together. Maybe you regretted being with him. Maybe you faked it? He couldn’t stop anxiously questioning if you still wanted to be with him. 

Eddie would not admit it aloud, but he was slowly falling for you. 

He knew how you drank your coffee, or how you loved playing with his hair. He knew how nervous you got in new spaces, and how you laughed. He wanted to learn more. He wanted to carve memories of you into his brain, wanted to have the imprint of your figure in his mattress, have your touch burned into his skin. 

He kept pushing off the idea of falling for you. He knew he was on the edge of the cliff, teetering on letting go. But goddamnit, if he wasn’t afraid. Eddie knew himself. When he fell, it was hard and fast. 

It was fully consuming. 

He was scared to let go and have you disappear, just like so many people in his life. Or worse, have you become disgusted with the intricacies of him. You knew so much, but Eddie still guarded parts of his heart. 

Which was why he was staring at his phone, awaiting your text back, when he asked if you could head out to dinner after your shift. 

Your reply stung. 

Sorry, not this time Eds, I’ve got to help my coworker with her on-call. 

Eddie, in a flurry of hurt and bitterness, almost texted back ‘Then when?’. He stopped himself before. 

He’d somehow fucked it up. 

He knew it. 

“Am I an idiot, Kurt?,” Eddie questioned the stray cat currently chowing down on his porch. Eddie had started feeding the cat when he noticed him digging through the apartment trash, feeling a tug at his heart. He’d always loved animals, knowing they wouldn’t judge him, even if he was a burnout. Kurt meowed at Eddie, chubby tomcat cheeks making Eddie chuckle a bit.  Eddie took a drag from his cigarette, careful to aim it away from Kurt, who resumed chowing down. He only looked up when he heard a commotion from the parking lot, seeing Robin and Steve scramble over to the porch, both of them calling Eddie’s name. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, okay…What’s the big deal, Beavis and Butthead?,” Eddie teased, still trying to calm his nerves. Steve and Robin as a pair usually were a bit over dramatic about things (even for Eddie, who often dramatized most things.) 

Robin stopped, her hands on her knees as she tried to regulate her breathing, wheezing. Steve was a bit better off, sighing before going into what was going on. 

“Some account tried to follow Rob and I and we were like no, but we were curious because the account follows Corroded Coffin. And Robin and I were talking about how Bug has kinda been AWOL, and avoiding us. And so we were wondering if maybe there was something she wasn’t telling us about, so we went to look at the account, and it’s some troll posting super mean shit about Bug and calling her names just because she’s dating you, and-” 

Eddie saw red at the mention. If there was one thing the Munson boy had little to no patience for, it was bullies. He felt his stomach twist at the thought of you dealing with the hate all alone, trying to push people away so as to keep from bothering them. His jaw clenched, his fists flexing and clenching, trying to soothe the anger he felt. 

“What’s the account?,” Eddie asked calmly, controlling his tone and temper, jaw set. 

Steve blinked a bit, shocked by Eddie’s tone but also seeming a bit fearful. “Uh, it’s something like the exterminator? Here,” Steve handed over his phone, showing the Instagram account. 

Eddie scrolled through the account, the posts getting more aggressive as the account owner seemed to take candids of you, and post them. The words were cutting, and just…

Eddie felt his hands shake as he handed back the phone, anger running through him, a slow simmering boil. He walked inside, Steve and Robin following in confusion before Robin finally broke the tense silence. 

“Eddie, what’re you-” 

Eddie spun around, eyes rimmed red, hands shaking as he clenched his fists. “I’m fixing it.” 

Eddie pulled out his phone, calling the one person he knew could get down to the bottom of this. 

“Henderson…I need you to ask Susie for a favor.” 

Eddie was lucky that Steve had introduced him to Dustin Henderson. Dustin looked up to Eddie, and his little group of friends had somehow stuck to Eddie like old gum on his shoe. But maybe a bit more endearing. 

Dustin’s girlfriend, Susie, was a tech nerd and genius, and somehow knew how to trace or hack most things. 

Which was exactly what she did. 

She traced the Instagram account down to an email, discovering what the email was a backup for, and informed Eddie. 

Tammy Dreser. A member of the Hawkins Cheer team, and a close friend to Chrissy Cunningham. Both of them were part of the same sorority. 

Which led Eddie here. In front of the sorority house on his bike, his face both angry and determined. He swung his leg off his bike, heading up to the door to knock loudly, met with Chrissy Cunningham’s surprised expression. 

“Eddie, what are you-” 

Eddie pushed past her into the house carefully, turning to her. 

“We need to talk.” 

Chrissy blinked a bit before closing the door, sighing. “Okay…What about?,” She questioned, crossing her arms, eyebrows furrowed. 

“This,” Eddie said pointedly, shoving a phone in Chrissy’s face, the device already showing the account, Chrissy squinting to see the account and frowning. 

“What? Eddie, I don’t know what this is.” 

“Tammy made it. I have…sources… who connected it to her email. And I don’t take kindly to people mistreating my girl,” Eddie stated, his tone teetering on a growl. 

Chrissy frowned, eyebrows furrowed. She bit her lip and gestured for Eddie to follow her to the kitchen, sitting down at the table. 

“Let me call Tammy. We can talk this out,” Chrissy sighed, dialing away on her phone. 

Eddie sat there, leg shaking in the hyper feminized kitchen, a frown practically etched on his face as Taffy entered, her blue eyes widening and cheeks turning red as she saw Eddie. She was quick to fix her hair and smile, putting out a perfectly manicured hand for him to shake. 

“Eddie, right? I’m Tammy,” She said, tone bubbly as ever. 

Eddie nodded, not returning the handshake. He was trying to keep his cool, and not explode on this petite brunette. 

Chrissy cleared her throat. “Well, Tammy, it seems there has been an acc-” 

Eddie can’t take tiptoeing around the subject, so he interjects. “I found an account cyberbullying my girlfriend. Connected to your email. Care to explain?,” Eddie grinned sarcastically, lifting his brows. 

Tammy turned white as a ghost and started laughing, shaking her head. “I don’t…What? I don’t know-” 

Eddie laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “Don’t bullshit me. Fess up, Tammy,” He said her name like an insult, making her cheeks flush red. He stared at her, her eyes wide and her shoulders caving in under his gaze. Eddie counted almost 5 minutes before she finally gave in. 

“Fine! I made it. I was angry that Chrissy hooked up with you when I had a crush on you, and I wanted to make it look like she made the account,” She confessed, flustered and upset. 

Chrissy’s brow furrowed and she appeared hurt, mumbling to herself.

"You're the one who hacked my Instagram...I kept wondering why I couldn't log in and why my account seemed to be following more people."

Eddie's heart panged a little bit for the blonde, who despite her best intentions, had horrible friends and a tendency to be naive or absent minded. But he'd worry about it later. Eddie was too focused on Tammy. “Take. Down. The. Damn. Account,” He gritted out, every word making Tammy sink further into her chair as she nodded, appearing annoyed and embarrassed. 

“Fine, Fine! I will!” 

Eddie stood up and nodded at the two, heading to the door as he heard hushed arguing and felt waves of hurt come from the room. 

“You deserve better friends, Cunningham,” Eddie called out as he left, too focused on his mission. 

He had to get to you. 

Eddie came into the building, making a beeline for your dorm. He knocked on your door frantically, hearing you scramble and run to the door, opening it a bit, just enough for you to poke your head out, your eyes rimmed red. Your brows furrowed as you looked up, a bit confused. 

“Eds? What’re you doing-” 

Eddie pushed himself inside the room, gentle but firm. You felt anxiety swirl in your belly at the disarrayed state of your room, the way you hadn’t had a good shower, stewing in your depression. Eddie’s stomach dropped as his heart ached. 

You had been going through this alone?

Eddie frowned, his voice soft. “Baby…why didn’t you tell me?”

You felt your lip begin to tremble as your eyes stung, the sensation alerting you of the oncoming tears. You swallowed, trying to calm your shaking. 

“I just…I didn’t want to bother you during finals, and honestly it wasn’t a big deal, I just-” 

You felt your voice tremble, your vision beginning to blur. You shook a bit, feeling Eddie embrace you. You smelled his green apple shampoo and body wash, his warm vanilla and spice cologne…all below a soft lingering scent of cigarettes. You melted into his arms, sighing, tears still flowing. 

Eddie sat you down on your bed, his heart squeezed at the sight of you so broken, and so lost. He kicked himself for not being able to see through your walls through text, and held you close. You sobbed into his shirt, shaking. Eddie rubbed your back, pressing his lips to your forehead, murmuring reassurances of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘i’ve got you’. 

When your tears had stopped flowing, Eddie continued to hold you, rubbing your back softly. He felt the urge to talk to you, so he let himself speak without thinking. 

“When I was in high school…I was extremely bullied. I was called a freak, viewed as an outcast. My mom had died and my dad was in prison. People knew Uncle Wayne and I lived in a trailer, and they didn’t let me live it down. When I came here, I thought I finally escaped it…Except… I didn’t. Jason was here. He was one of the people who bullied me extensively back home. He made my life a living hell. He posted shit about me, made flyers claiming I was a psychopath… it was…hell.” 

Eddie swallowed, avoiding your gaze, trying to continue despite the sour memories. 

“I was in a really dark place. I started doing harder drugs, drinking, and just…self harming any way I could. I was flunking, and lonely, as I was 20 years old and a freshman. I…I didn’t tell Steve about it. But he kind of…knew. And right as I was starting to get even worse, right as I considered ending it…Steve reached out. He supported me. He stood up for me while Jason was being a dick. And…a big part of me knows, if he never reached out…I wouldn’t be here.” 

Eddie's throat felt thick, his hands shaking as he looked down at you, your red rimmed eyes looking at him in sorrow and worry. He grabbed your face, leaning his head down to press his forehead against yours. 

“I don’t ever want you to feel that way, baby. Okay? I lo-, Eddie cuts himself off, swallowing, the word getting stuck in his throat. 

“I care about you.” 

You look up, sighing shakily and nodding, melting into his arms. 

“I care about you too. I’m sorry.” 

Eddie kissed you, trying to pour all of his feelings into the exchange, holding your face like you were fragile glass. He pulled away slowly, tugging you into his arms and just holding you that night, letting you melt into him. 

He’d tell you soon.

But for that night...he just would be there for you.

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90 @animechick555

[polyamorousmood]

hey! I hope this isn't too non-traditional of a poly situation to be sending in, but this is the only place I think I'll be able to get good advice. As a pre-ask thing, to be clear, my best friend is the love of my life, I am aroace, we're very happily in love.

So, a while ago, we were dating, and it ended pretty quickly bc he came out as aroace. I asked him a lot whether or not that was the full reason he broke up with me and he insisted that it was and if it was going to be anyone it would have been me. I figured out that I was also aroace a couple months later. Recently (about a year after we first met and started dating) he got a boyfriend. I already set a firm boundary of no talking to me about his boyfriend bc it made me have a paranoid breakdown once and I don't want to do that to him, but even just the knowledge of him existing is pissing me off so much. I can't ask him to break up with him because I would never do thst to him and I love him more than anything even if this situation is hurting me like this, but I did recently ask him how the relationship was going with him being aroace, and he said that he isn't really aroace and he just wasn't ready for a relationship with me and thinking about that makes me want to cry. I don't want something romantic with him, I'm very much aroace and very sex and sensuality repulsed, I just hate that this random guy who I don't even know and never will (I don't want to bc I know I'd end up being a dick to him if I did meet him) is somehow more important to him than me, even if he insists thst isn't how it is. Since the situation isn't changing, I really need help with dealing with the jealousy. I've tried a ton of stuff and every single time I think about him I still want to kill him. I really don't know what to do, and my therapist isn't being particularly helpful (she isn't poly tho so she doesn't have experience with weird situations)

Hi. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time with this.

I'm curious how "he got a boyfriend" went down, and why you didn't bring up your concerns about his honestly to him when he was initially talking to you about it. Or if you did, why it still... doesn't seem resolved😬.

Not to put emotions in your mouth, but it sounds like a large proportion (though certainly not all) of your issue here stems from you feeling lied to about the breakup. This would damage anyone's trust and faith in the relationship, and I think having a formal talk about why he handled it the way he did and if that will continue in your refigured relationship will really help you. Maybe he didn't lie, maybe he was genuinely confused (for example, "if I can't make a relationship work with this person I feel a deep connection with, I must be aroace!" [one year later] "yo wtf I wanna fuck this other person?")! I think you should acknowledge -- with him, if possible -- that hurt. You feel like you want to cry? So cry. Giving the feeling full expression makes it easier to work through (and the only way out is through, darling).

Be prepared to explain why it hurts so much. The betrayal, your assumption that since he was aroace y'all were on the same page and he'd functionally be your life partner, or whatever the fuck.

Aside from the advice in this post (please read it in full📖, it is all applicable here), you have a LOT of legwork🦵 to do in unpacking and deconstructing your feelings. I think this worksheet outlines how to do that well (though, you know, tweak the wording in your head, because its aimed at a more traditional romance). If done right, it will be difficult and time consuming⌛. I recommend working through the worksheet slowly, in at least two separate sessions an hour or longer each. 'Cause shit takes time to sink in. In fact, you will have to remind yourself of the things you learn doing it for weeks to come, if not longer, so don't be afraid to revisit it! There is no shortcut, but I hope you and your best friend can be on the same page and you can have support while you navigate it.

Remember, the boyfriend didn't do anything wrong. He cares about this guy you care about. Try to see him as an extra support for him, rather than competition.

Good luck out there, space cowboy. There is hope 💛 <- its a yellow heart for friendship, get it?

[violetganache42]

Here are my highlights from the Valentine's Day watch party, all in chronological order and categorized this time around:

"Mr. Duck Steps Out":

Just everyone's reactions to Daisy's voice when she made her debut

"Till Nephews Do Us Part":

The thirst counts for Missy and Mina overloading

The return of Bohemian Quacksody

Scrooge having paintings and a statue of Goldie EVERYWHERE (He is a fucking SIMP)

Corporate Cupcake, Money Muffins, Sweet Stocks …You know what? Just the pet names in general.

"KILL HER, BEAKLEY! GET HER ASS!"

WriteBackAtYa: "Spaceballs Ass Luggage"

Us when Millionara falls in the river:

Jamie: "PULL THE LEVER KRONK" Me: "WRONG LEVERRRRR" Tokuvivor: "Why do we even have that lever?!"

Magica cameo?!

And a Sixpence in Your Shoes

Goldie Shotgun!

"Fungus Amongus":

Godfrey and I sharing the same brain

Melody: "WHY ARE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE DUCK SOUP STORE?!" Me: "FUCK YOU!"

Everyone going crazy over Morgana

hueberryshortcake: "Save me Scrooge McDuck" Me: "Scrooge McDuck" Godfrey: "Scrooge McDuck save me"

"Prissy is pissy"

DW not denying the girlfriend part

A sax play in the BG whenever Morgana is onscreen, just like Rouge in Sonic X

"NOOOO, NOT LAUNCHPAD!"

"The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains!":

RAID THE BUFFET!

Us going FERAL over Goldie

puffywuffy8904: "MY EX WIFE STILL MISSES ME" Me: "BUT HER AIM IS GETTIN' BETTER"

Let the lady lead

Jamie mentioning the "between the legs" joke from Life and Times (No filter, Don Rosa. lol)

THE FUCKING ELEVATOR JOKE

Bisexual waterfalls

Rexx shouting at Missy via an audio message

Foghorn Leghorn

"You loved gold more than you loved me."/"And that's why you loved me."

Jamie's storyboard project

Discord buffering during the FUCKING TANGO SCENE

"The Adorable Couple":

Me: "Piss on the moon, you cloud!" Godfrey: "YESSS PISS ON LUNARIS"

Rainbow connections

"The Duck Who Knew Too Much":

Us @ Fenton, M'ma, and Gandra's OG versions:

GONDRA

Learning OG Fenton was voiced by Hamilton Camp, thus bringing DT17 Fenton being voiced by Lin-Manuel Miranda full circle

Oppenheimer mention (Stop stealing from the ducks, Nolan!)

Goid

Missy: "cant believe they whitewashed daffy guys"

"SCROOGE, YOU DUMBASS"

Brunette Fenton

QUACKERJACK MENTION???

This whole fucking episode being worthy of the DT17 adaptation fic treatment *cough* Jamie *cough*

"Ghoul of My Dreams":

DRAKEPAD KISS

Archie being a hater

"WHERE IS GOSALYN?"

Jealous Launchpad

DEEEAM WORLD

Morgana needing better lipstick because of how fast it disappears in between scenes

WriteBackAtYa having so many jokes in his head about… goofy ass noises

"And now, with the city asleep, I can FINALLY STEAL ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY OFF MY STUDENT LOANS!"

Lottie pointing out how Archie looked like—

Me: "Goldie Shotgun sequel when?"

puffywuffy8904: "HOW IS THIS MF SLEEPIN IN THE DREAM WORLD" Us: "*Louie voice* I just am."

"The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee!":

DOOFENSHMIRTZ

puffywuffy8904: "Webby we need to get Fenton rizzed up"/"Please never say that again"

POWERPUFF GIRLS NARRATOR

Fenton's little growl

*seeing Fenton's hand-me-down suit from his dad* Goofy?

Prego

"YOU WILL RUE THE DAY!"

Gandra obliterating the wrong twink

"What kind of monster doesn't like glazed donuts?"

"Do you feel that spark?" ⚡️ZAP⚡️

The Beaks dab

"What? No signal? Boo!"

"TWO BAD THINGS COULD HAPPEN!"

"I've got your kids! Maybe. I'm not sure how this family works."

ANCHOR ARMS

Coach Dad

🎶IT'S A DAAATE🎶

"Two Can't Play":

Mullet Donald

AIRHORNS

"THEY'RE IN FUCKING TRON"

"A DuckTales Valentine":

DT87's love for mentioning Fort Knox for some reason

puffywuffy8904: *mentions the "DuckTales Apology Video" ranking* Me: "*Miles voice* I made a mistake."

Webby on Scrooge's desk like: She likes to be tall.

Me: "GOLDIE SHOTGUN THREEQUEL WHEN?!"

US IN UTTER DISMAY UPON SEEING WEBBY CRYING 😭😭😭

Sunglasses swag

GOLD FEVER REAL

"A swift kick in the ribs!"/"A what?"/"Aagh!"/"Aah! My ribs!"

Webby running up to Scrooge and hugging him! 💖

"Aww, he does love his family!"

"My Valentine Ghoul":

Gosalyn FINALLY appearing in today's watch party!

Negaduck appearance!

puffywuffy8904: "he's just darkwing after some cigarettes"

"TIME TO GO A COURTIN'"

Missy getting double whammied with emotes of Prissy and Scrooge getting sprayed with water

(Screenshot edit by @tealottie)

Missy's thirst levels reaching CRITICAL MASS

Quackrinomicon being voiced by KING CANDY

Archie still being a fucking hater

"Keen gear!"

Godfrey and I still being on the same wavelength

NEGMEISTER

THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGG

Rexx reviving the Missy thirsy count

Missy: "I NEED HIM JESUS" WriteBackAtYa: "No, you just need Jesus"

RED FLAGS! 🚩🚩🚩

"New Gods on the Block!":

Della using party cannons like Pinkie Pie

Scrooge's transition from wallowing to anger and his tail shake

"Why don't you turn into a swan and FUCK OFF?!"

THE FRAMES

"IT CONSUMES ME!"

"What are your intentions with my Donald?"

Megamind (literally) Huey

Pig couple: DESTROYED

Chris Diamantopoulos having the ✨RANGE✨

Greek God Groupchat

Webby being utterly TERRIFYING with god powers

Dewey having the best handling of his god powers through sick dance moves

"My Don-Don"

"You killed my boyfriend!"/"Boyfriend? Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!"

The immediate failure parallels

Just how much Della has improved as a mother

AND THEN ALONG CAME ZEUS

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hello Ara Ara Anon here.

Kinda digging your profile Gun having a seriously face lol. Which made me think of what would Gun and Goo hate to see in thier Date or in fight.

And what would be thier auto "marry me" reaction during thier date/ situations.

Hello again Ara Ara anon! This is probably one of my fave expression this guy pulls. It's just so relatable. Thanks for the ask - and I could see Goo falling for the ara ara OC heh.

Fight Reaction: Marry Me!

Gun values competent people, he would have needed to have heard of your reputation first to pique his interest. It would make sense if you were making a name for yourself as a high ranking executive in Workers, climbing to the top with a ruthless tenacity. You're efficient and ambitious and you wanted the crew business all to yourself. Because why do these little boys get all the fun?

Couple that with you being strong? What a way to get his attention. Gun's instant marry me though? This bastard... Daniel breaks 1 arm and this pervert can't stop thinking about him. Imagine if you broke all his limbs.

Goo is one sadistic fucker. Similar to Gun, you would need to overpower him during a fight but he doesn't need the context. He couldn't give a shit who you are, but where have you been hiding with your pretty claws and vicious grin? Having someone like you beat him up is hot. It eases the sting of the loss somewhat.

Goo is sitting there, bruised and bloodied by you, which is already a turn on. Then you lean in and grab his chin:

"Ara ara... What a disappointment you turned out to be, Goo Kim."

He genuinely would blurt out "marry me" in this moment.

Fight Reaction: Fuck You

Gun loves fighting. He really believes in the beauty of the it, the movement, the skill, the raw feel of throwing punches and kicks. Connecting and ripping through skin, breaking bones. He doesn't care if you fight dirty. Go ahead and grab some weapons. Adds more spice.

However anything that would ruin the fundamental of people beating the shit out of each other would upset him, more so if it's illegal.

"You dumb motherfucker. Are you ruining my fun with a gun"

and if you tried to jab him with a syringe full of questionable drugs like what happened to Samuel? He'll really show you what Shiro Oni means.

What can I say, this guy has his principles.

For Goo, you would have thought anything goes with this blonde maniac but he hates being underestimated or thinking someone is going easy on him. And combine that with you getting the upper hand? He loathes your trash talk.

"You call that a punch"

"What is that stance"

"Have you ever even used a sword before"

He would be going feral with rage, frothing at the mouth, aiming to kill. If you manage to get him to this stage and still nothing?

"Was that supposed to hurt"

Please also see the above scenario - he would likely have the most confused boner.

Date Reaction: Marry Me!

Apart from the obvious fighting prowess, Gun would love someone that could easily be playing 5D chess and challenging him.

He's smart and perceptive but if he tells you about his day and you manage to catch something he's missed? Or offer him a better solution? God. He's always done this on his own, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad with you.

You would need a pretty wicked and wild streak yourself to seriously be with someone like Goo. You 2 together are loose cannons and a general danger to society. And your ideas of a date aren't the most... traditional.

Someone pissed Goo off and you suggest some casual arson? Grand theft auto against a guy who parked too close to his precious car? Identity theft of someone that tried to rip him off? Yep babe, you're the one.

Date Reaction: Fuck off

It likely will never get to this stage if they get even a whiff of something amiss.

Casually sleeping around is one thing but Gun and Goo are pretty thorough with researching and scoping people out, and that's no different for a potential date. They know the kind of traits they like and respect. If you don't fit the bill, then this ain't happening.

The only real thing both Gun and Goo would hate is if either of them misjudged you. They thought they saw a partner and an equal but you're not measuring up. Either you're too nice or normal or moralistic or just naive. This would never work, they need someone that understands the way of their world. They would have no qualms breaking up or just straight out ghosting you.

[mister-eames]

My write-along contribution to AELDWS Round 5. I took the word limit as a... lovely, helpful guide. But just a guide.

Arthur/Eames, 548 words. Prompt: Touch Starved Genre: Canon

---

“What are you wearing?”

Arthur looks down at his plaid pyjamas and woolly socks and pauses. He drops his voice, aiming for playful; for sexy. “What would you like me to wear?”

On the other line Eames growls, a gritty, gravelly sound not even a shitty phone connection can distort. “I’d like you in nothing but your own sweat.”

Arthur shifts, enjoying the mental image. “Just that?”

“Maybe some lacy knickers.”

“Maybe you could bring some back for me.”

“That’s my Arthur,” Eames replies fondly, “already fishing for gifts.”

“I wasn’t fishing,” he denies.

He was. If he’s going to be left on his lonesome for weeks he might as well get something out of it and put in an order.

“Mhmm. What are you actually wearing?”

“PJ’s,” he admits.

“The ratty ones?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…” Eames trails off, “...actually a fright more sexier than I was thinking." He sighs. "Arthur, you dog. I love peeling those off you.”

“I know."

The memory of the last time Eames had done just that surfaces. It's pleasant, until a sudden, horrible want washes over Arthur with such ferocity that his fingers ache.

The smile drops from his face.

Eames goes on, unaware. "Tell me more."

"Um," he begins, trying to think. "Well..."

Except he can't think. It’s been four weeks since Eames left for a job and Arthur's skin feels tighter, thinner with each passing day. A slow and steady gnawing becoming more pronounced, hollowing him out in odd, uneven places, rivulets and valleys of an unfamiliar need in places he didn't know he could feel it. 

Maybe it's the newness of joint home-ownership, but it's never been like this.

He closes his eyes and recalls the heat of Eames’ skin, the heaviness of his leg when its hiked over Arthur, either mid-coitus, or mid-slumber. In the dark of his imagination he can almost feel the scratch of Eames’ beard on his skin and the wet heat of his breath, the dig of his fingernails when he pokes Arthur between his ribs. 

“Still there, love?” Eames comments at the moment Arthur stands from the couch.

“Yeah. One sec, sorry.”

He narrowly avoids stepping on their cat, Morticia, on his walk over to their bedroom. Out of their closet he fishes out a large, threadbare hoodie and threads his arms through it.

Arthur has never been more glad that Eames is an enthusiastic proponent of the sniff-test. It ends up working in Arthurs favour; it hasn’t been washed since it’s last wear and it smells a little musty, and a lot like Eames. 

It’s too large for Arthur. But it’s warm. 

And it helps to abate the restless, quivering discontent under his skin at least. For that, he’s quick to forgive himself for his incredibly embarrassing behaviour. No ones around to see it anyway, except Morticia. 

“What’s that sound?" Eames queries when Arthur tugs at the zip. "Are you lubing yourself up for some dirty photos?”

“Yeah, Eames,” he rolls his eyes, returning to the couch, “that’s what I’m doing.” He picks up the remote and switches to an NCIS rerun.

"Oh my. Now we're getting to the good stuff."

He deadpans, “Uh-huh. I’m three fingers in. Ooh, baby.”

“Well, it’s the least you could do.” Eames voice is light, but drops to a whisper. “I fucking miss you something sinister, you know.”

“I’ve got something that might help with that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Guess what I’m wearing now.”

“What?”

Warm, Arthur yawns widely. “Your hoodie.”

Eames pauses. “The ratty MU one?”

“Mhmm.”

“Fuck,” Eames swears. There’s rustling on the other end. “When I get home next week I better see you in it.” More rustling. “Can you send me a photo?”

The smile returns. He can do that.

[gubbles-owo]

girls band cry episode 6 spoilers below the cut tl;dr this show is reading me like an open fuckign book and i am not oka y

I AM IN THIS PHOTO AND I DO NOT LIKE IT okay that's a lie.... I love it. I love it so so goddamn much. But god does it hurt. But no that is fucking me. I was pegged as the music kid growing up. I loved listening to it. I loved breaking down the things I loved and figuring out what made them tick. And while I didn't feel like I was phenomenal at making it myself, it's been my aim for as long as I can remember. Went to college. Got a degree. Worked on lots of projects, doing music and audio from school projects to ones with commercial prospects to smaller indies and friends I met along the way. But the pressure was starting to build. Clearly this wasn't enough to make a living, what else am I supposed to do? Bigger projects, mounting responsibilities coming to rest upon my shoulders. I had burnt out long before I had consciously realized it. Then the dysautonomia hit in full force. I can't change posture without an ensuing headrush, I can't eat solid food without throwing it up, my sickly ass is just trying to get by day to day, and I'm so goddamned stressed from all of it that my brain just... stopped. No creative output. No music, no art, no writing. For the first time in my life that part of brain entirely went quiet. Shit still sucks in many ways, but, I'd like to think things are improving. Slowly, steadily, started writing, did some visual art and programming projects, slapped out Railgun in 2 weeks, now I'm finally getting back into music again... albeit not in the professional income-earning manner as previously. I... I want to make shit that connects with people, I want to scream my fucking heart out and pour it into my music. But I still can't play bass standing up for more than 3 minutes before getting totally winded. Is... there even a point to taking it seriously again?

Well.... there's one reason I can think of. I don't really have the words for it, I don't think I can describe this feeling with any sense of logic or accuracy But there is something about music that is just... magic.

And I don't think I could ever give up on that magic.

[hannieluvsyou]

Drift Away. (Part One)

Xu Minghao x Reader (ft. Moon Junhui)

description: wherein your love for him slowly fades into blurry lines, and he realizes too late.

genre: angst

warnings: unrequited feelings (for now), swearing, Minghao is painfully oblivious

note: : I apologize in advance for any typos or grammatical errors. (This is also my first time writing angst hihihi). I'm also planning to make multiple parts bc I'm too lazy to write this all in one go.

Xu Minghao. My best friend. My star.

In this world, he is the only thing I have. I cherish him, more than anything but.. It's all one sided.

I give him everything. My time, my attention, my support, everything. But nothing is ever enough for him to see these lines I created that connects us. The lines that hold clarity, sincerety, and love that is meant for him and him only. The love that he failed to comprehend.

I was aware that he never asked for this, but I can't help it. His smile that lights up the whole atmosphere, his laugh that levels with the hymns of the angels in heaven, his heart that's full of warmth. He deserves more than this world has to offer.

But, his heart was out of reach, already beating and seeking for another.

But it's okay. It's not his fault. It's me who keeps on hoping that maybe, maybe things will take a turn. Maybe he might see me, too. It's my fault for letting myself fall in love with him so easily.

It was inevitable though, he's so fucking easy to love! Everything he does holds no flaw, every action carries grace, every word comes out like silk, what's not to love?

Even if I know that my love will continue to rot between us, I find myself still falling for him despite everything.

But.. I don't think I can fall for him any deeper. I had already reached the bottom of this sorrowful pit that I filled with false hope.

The false hope that I clung onto for the past years with him.

Today was the day that I decided to climb out of that pitiful pit.

It was a normal day. Nothing special going on, no events of any kind. Atleast that's what I thought.

I was getting ready to go to the grocery store since I ran out of stuff to eat but suddenly Minghao texted me, saying he needed help with something. Of course I couldn't refuse, it was him after all.

But oh how I wish I could rewind time and decline.

He arrived at my apartment looking clammy and nervous but I could sense some excitement hiding in there. As he flopped down beside me he finally looked at me and said the things that I wish I didn't hear. The words that I wished were aimed at me.

"Please help me confess to Lijuan."

I can feel my heart drop down.

Lijuan. My ex-best friend. How fucking ironic.

She's not only my ex-best friend, but also a backstabbing manipulator who took everything away from me when we were kids. Everyone I talked to back then, suddenly end up vanishing since little miss perfect was bad mouthing me.

I don't know how to feel, I want to disagree but I can't. I want to be selfish, but I had no right.

"Of course." I wanted to fucking cry but his wide grin and sparkly eyes made my lips quirk up a bit.

"Thank you! I knew I could count on you." He sighed in relief and proceeded to bid his goodbyes since he has to prepare for this big moment.

After he left, I was left on the couch alone. I didn't know what to do. I was heartbroken and devastated, yet what right do I have?

I decided to not go to the grocery store anymore since I lost every ounce of my appetite. Minghao said he'll text me the details about his confession, saying he'll take her out to this fancy dinner and break the ice to her.

I wanted to tell him about Lijuan, but I doubt that he'll even believe the shit that she has done to me.

I lay down on my couch and just stared at the ceiling above me, I wanted to cry but no tears came whatsoever.

'Maybe we were never meant to be after all..'

I was about to drift off to sleep but a sudden 'ding!' made me sit up and grab my phone.

Haohao: hey, would you mind picking up the flowers i ordered? They're already paid so u just have to pick them up.

Haohao: [location]

I stare at the message for a bit before typing my response.

You: sure, i don't mind.

Haohao: thanks again, i owe you one.

The things I would do, just because it was you. Damn, this hurts more than I thought.

I begrudgingly stood up and made my way to the location he sent me. It was a cute little flower shop situated beside a park.

As I entered the shop I was immediately greeted by the welcoming scent of flowers.

"Hello, welcome! How can I assist you?" A tall good-looking boy came up to me holding a bunch of roses.

"I'm here to pick up an order for Xu Minghao." I say with a somewhat bitter tone. He seemed to notice, and proceeded to ask, "Sorry for asking but is he your boyfriend? Did you have guys fight? You seem.. sad." He said now putting the roses down.

'Are you supposed to be a therapist or something?' I wanted to say.

"No, he's not my boyfriend and no we didn't fight. Can I just get his order, please?" He sensed that I did not want to dwell on the topic any further and only nodded. He went to the back to pick up the bouquet, I'm assuming.

As I wait for him to return, I'm stuck with my own thoughts. Am I really just giving up on him? It's not like I have a choice, though.

From now on, I think it's best to keep my distance from him and move on.

I can feel my heart drift away, I can hear the string snap between us. The string that failed to hold us together.

Thank you for making me happy, Xu Minghao. It's time to let you go.

[skayafair]

Let's talk Hilbert, Pt. 2

Now that I made it clear why I like the character so much even despite his atrocities, let's get back to the topic of why he's so compelling.

A lot of people seem to think Doctor Hilbert has abandoned his own "self", dedicated his life only to his work and his aim to save humanity (by creating a virus). That simply the fact that the only meaning he sees is in his work and not life is selfless.

Well.

To me he's selfish to no fucking end and this is FRUSTRATING because it fucked up his whole life, cut short a lot of other lives and was tragic overall for nothing. (Of course, the real reason for all this was trauma and since I don't think Wolf 359 universe is that different from ours, therapy wasn't really an option, which makes it all all the more tragic in the worst way possible - the one I hate the most, the "it didn't have to happen like this and could actually turn out REALLY good but the circumstances just didn't line up".)

Because it didn't have to be like this, shouldn't have been like this, and I hate Goddard Futuristics with passion for setting things up to feed to Hilbert's obsession in the worst way possible. I'll just copy my tags from that drafted post next because they sum it up well.

Hilbert is hellbent on his aim and has a tunnel vision, talking big about the science and logic when THIS ISN'T HOW SCIENCE IS DONE.

You don't just barrel into experiments without proper theoretical preparations! And no one in their sane mind would work on something so complex ALONE, at the very least to keep a critical mind. And this is what he failed at - he's not CRITICAL to his own work because it's so important to him. But if it IS so important he HAS to be critical and he isn't! He contradicts himself every step of the way and this drives me up the wall!

That's why I'm so hooked. This frustration - if only he could see past his own nose juuuust a little bit. What a life it might have been then.

This is just a matter of perspective. Traditionally it is understood between humans that the most value is attributed to the existence, "life", personality. But to some, their essence lives in other things still connected to them directly. To Hilbert, he amounted in his work, reaching his aim, not a personality or its existence in a human body. So in his case, threatening his research was the same as threatening a human life in normal circumstances, and threatening his life was pointless, it didn't hold any meaning on its own to him. If he could exist as an AI, he'd be the happiest probably - less restrictions in any way that matters. Ask autistic folks, a lot would agree.

However, despite all the claims of his logic and no feelings, this is always the fattest lie. Thing is, any human still has feelings. They may be almost muted, they may be warped, they may be silenced, but the fact still stands - they exist. They don't go away. You can't get rid of your "self", for better or for worse. And Hilbert toootally didn't.

He set an aim - chose a field, chose to follow this path, chose to set any attachments aside and treat people as expendable if the situation demanded so. All this was his choices, his personality. And the fact that he never doubted - no, forbade himself to doubt - his virus research and experiments? It wasn't selflessness, far from it. It was a very human, very selfish fear to be wrong. I mean this isn't suprpising - he isn't even a genius of a scientist, the plant monster and Decima failure considered. To learn that he wasted so much time, or wait, it's worse. If some 10, 20 years prior to this Haephestus mission he had a research team and they showed the virus idea wasn't warking, he could start all over again many times by now. He could have an actually working one. So the fear would be not only about time but opportunities... and in the end, it would be about his own self, his own life (which is his work), his whole essense just - wasted. Wrong. Annihilated.

Every creative person knows this fear. Every time you put a piece of yourself into a thing you create and put it out for people to see, you know this. That they can nulify it all, killing this piece of you. It's painful as is. Imagine putting your whole self into one and getting it trashed.

So no, Hilbert is not selfless. He's very much and selfishly afraid of death, only in his case the meaning of "death" is a bit different from a traditionally accepted one. And this fear has led him so, so far astray, turned his and many other lives into a tragedy.

I can't call him a coward - this is a very reasonable fear after all, and I admire his dignity and resolve. I don't justify his actions, he crossed too many lines which should have never been crossed. But it all just frustrates me so much! Because all of it could have been avoided! But the circumstances - it's always these damn circumstances.

Of course he agreed to work with Goddard Futuristics. They offered the funds and the equipment no one else did and no moral restrictions, but left out one of the most important resources - people to work with, the teammates. Hilbert isn't great with people, that much was obvious, so he wouldn't have found anyone on his own (or maybe it was even restricted). His failure was set up, which is to be expected - the podcast showed Cutter's way of handling things, choosing the ones driven into a corner and manipulating them in all details. Find a scientist obsessed with one aim and let him drown in it.

Hilbert even met people willing to throw him a life ring despite everything, but alas, it was too late. The circumstances, y'know. And he didn't even learn about that.

It's just so damn tragic when an overall okay man with a really good goal ventures off the wrong path because there was no right one in sight, and then it's just one thing pulling another in tow, and he drowns.

I've seen a few people mentioning how Hilbert just doesn't agree to be redeemed, and I think it's not just that. This road was simply closed to him and he saw that clearly. He couldn't walk it, not with the way he is... was. Too much has already been done and there was no turning back. His personality wouldn't have let him. Moreover... his redemption, for him, was probably his virus finally working, and nothing else. The rest just wasn't alowed to matter enough.

And he cared. Despite all the big talk about no attachments and no feelings, he tried to minimize the damage the best he could, but one person can only do so much. Too bad there weren't more to help.

And he even admitted to the fear of being alone. Of the door waiting for him in case he was the only one left again - this would mean he lost another crew, another group of people who shouldn't have died - not in general, not because of him. Another failed try, another number of years wasted. And loneliness, again. The doctor didn't engage in the crew's shenanigans just because. The feelings are there, hide however you want.

Eiffel and Lovelace gave him "Humanity 101", but I really don't think there was a need. Humanity is such a wide spectrum.

[likegemstone]

I spent several years so afraid that my writing might offend/hurt someone that even thinking about writing would cause intense anxiety and I simply didn't write for years. It even got to the point where I very rarely *read* anything because reading made me want to write, and that triggered anxiety.

When I finally started to write again (bc it's in my fucken DNA and I just. can't not tell stories) I had to tell myself that I was never going to let ANYONE read what I was working on, and I probably wouldn't even ever reread it myself. That was the only way I could get myself to relax enough to tell the story.

Writing/telling stories is how I have always processed and understood the world—all the messy, nuanced, confusing, painful, fucked up parts of the human experience. Stories are the only real way I've ever been able to connect to people in a meaningful way.

And for those years I wasn't writing, I honestly just wasn't processing my emotions, my experiences, my thoughts and opinions. Every confusing or painful or complex feeling or experience I had was utterly overwhelming. I slowly began to isolate myself more and more from everything because it was just too much.

In my attempt to make sure I never ever hurt anyone, I was slowly killing myself.

I have all this anger now. Anger aimed at the situations and relationships in my childhood that made me have such intense reactions to upsetting someone, at the spaces I was in leading up to this isolation that were so clique-y and judgmental and virtue signal-y that made me so convinced that any move I might make would be "problematic," and mostly at Me for letting this happen. For closing myself off and letting the world keep moving and growing while I sat there and just. rotted.

Even now that I'm writing again and even sharing my work, I catch myself sometimes watering Her Broken Magic down, to make it more palatable, less messy. I've done edits to tone down the characters' personalities to make them more "likable." And I'm pissed about that—that I've been made to feel like I have to, but also that I did it at all. HBM certainly still pushes the envelope in many ways, but it would be a much more brutal beast if I wasn't keeping its reins so taut.

It's fucking exhausting spending my life walking on eggshells. It's not sustainable. I will always be sensitive and arguably over-empathetic, I will always try to uphold my morals, be respectful and understanding, and I'll always feel awful any time I hurt someone. But I've had to accept that the only way to completely avoid hurting anyone is to not exist. To never have existed.

But I exist, and I don't want to be ashamed of that anymore.

[vampiremeerkat]

not sure if you've caught up much to Vivziepop's work lately, but got any thoughts regarding her Helluva Boss show, or her upcoming Amazon Prime version of Hazbin Hotel?

Said this: https://vampiremeerkat.tumblr.com/post/188696192708/hazbin-hotel-came-out-thoughts-aye-watched-it https://vampiremeerkat.tumblr.com/post/665027239768899584/since-youve-seen-hazbin-hotel-what-do-you

But I've still not watched Helluva Boss, only about two or three few second snippets out of curiosity for the animation quality. My knowledge on it is based on a review from Just Stop, and if the show is like he describes, I won't be turning on episode 1 soon. It appears to me like Helluva Boss just does things to look or sound exciting in the moment, without caring about previously established rules or how stupid these decisions make a character look in the face of past or upcoming episodes. Then again, my mind has been poisoned by anime, and I like Cars, so I can also imagine none of it would keep me up at night. But even before Just Stop's video, I've not felt particularly interested. If I had to give a reason, perhaps I just don't enjoy Vivziepop's interpretation of Hell enough to want to know about its residents. Just Stop gives a sensible list of reasons what's wrong with her Hell, but like I said in one of the linked messages above: I find many of the characters too approachable/aesthetically pleasing and already don't think that's what Hell should be like. I want disfigured gremlins no one wants to draw porn of. Hell should be Hell, not a (slightly) less bearable version of some big city you can find on Earth. A good example of Vivziepop's work is the character "Beelzebub". I happened to come across an image of her not long ago, which is a fluffy neon-rainbow fox with insect wings, instead of an actual bee with beastly features, which would've made more sense. Why is someone who's called "(queen) bee" a fox? We know why, and I cry for all the sexy bees in the world. You don't always have to cater to the furries, my friends, please, just try something else for once, leave the canines, felines, and dragons alone! There are so many different kinds of animals walking the planet to sexualize! And you.. furries.. You're all conveniently inhabited by the soul of a wolf -an animal that so happens to appeal to most humans in terms of appearance- while there's infinite times more sea life and insects that existed throughout time and in present day, that died and could've reincarnated into what is now you! That's right loser, you are a literal worm! Anyway, the characters draw the attention of teenagers, but at the same time, the show mishandles the use of swear words and throws them around like it's all good, which I also can't stand. I think the latter is what initially turned me off from sitting on stand-by for the upcoming Hazbin Hotel show, because why should I care about anything you have to say if you're always going "fuck" and "shit" in my face? A sliver of positivity in this rant: I think the owl looks cool. Again, he does not look like anything Hell would produce, I'd design something like him if my intention was a "mysterious, forest fairy tale creature", but still cool. I contemplated looking up his scenes under the belief there's a complicated, emotional story attached, but if you're telling me they did this hooty boy wrong by making him a sexually dissatisfied whore, with Blitzo's only aim being his magic book, and yet further episodes proclaim there's an actual connection between the two without the writers having put in the work, then never mind. I'll find myself a different hooty boy. 💔🦉

[infiniteglitterfall]

How are you holding up? I ask because I'm only, like, addressing antisemitism that leaks to my dash with every term related to Palestine I can think of blacklisted. And i'm like. Barely crlinging to fragile sanity. I hope you are better equipped to handle the stresses of this ongoing disinformation campaign. You're doing good and important work, which you must know, but I want to re-emphasize it.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

i swear to god I thought there was a way to reply privately to asks, but apparently either there isn't or I don't have the patience to find it again.

I think that you're describing how most Jews with any connection to social media feel.

The good thing, in a way, is that researching and fact-checking is my major coping mechanism. Researching and rebutting and arguing with people until I understand everything well enough to be pithy about it. Creating ways for other people to defend themselves and to push back. Doing the research to know when I'm right helps me a lot.

I'm probably as well-equipped for this as I can imagine being (that's not really true, I should be talking to people more about it and using 12-step tools to deal with it and gosh some therapy would be nice), and like... there have still literally been times when I've been triggered for an entire week by this shit.

Most notably: the time when I saw a clip on my TikTok fyp from some podcast where some journalist fully got all dressed up and prepared to go on camera, to say that she could imagine there were a few individual rapes on Oct 7 -- although she wasn't aware of any -- but that certainly there was no evidence of systematic rape, and that saying there had been systematic rape was dehumanizing propaganda.

Like. If you can't even take one minute to google whether there had been individual rapes before you go on camera. And you haven't heard of them two months after the fact. Then you don't know enough to talk about this, period. That makes you the very opposite of an expert on the subject. And yet, that is who gets platformed. Ignorant randos who have no personal connection to any of this.

I literally knew there had been gang rapes by Hamas within the first week of the massacre. Because I cared enough to do a search for eyewitness testimony of the massacre, and I found an interview on PBS immediately.

Or, more accurately: it was because it slowly sank in that the attack had been MASSIVE. 22 kibbutzim leveled in one day, hands-on, without an airplane or mortar shell involved. All those people killed the way you would kill a horde of zombies: burned alive, or shot and then mutilated, or cut up and then shot. Like they needed to double-tap, to make sure no one was coming back around.

Two years of planning. Almost half a billion dollars in funding from Iran. Detailed guides even to the dentist's offices and kindergartens and grocery stores they were invading.

And it was very plain to, I think, nearly every Jew on earth that this was an attack aimed at Jews. Even before any recordings of attackers saying "I'm inside with the Jews" or "I killed 10 Jews with my own hands" even came out. Even though everyone else was denying it from the moment it happened.

And I felt compelled to learn more about what happened.

To KNOW.

To bear witness.

Even before it became apparent started to seem like the rest of the world would rather die themselves than bear witness to us. Even before it became apparent that Hamas had been telling people Israel would commit genocide in response before its fighters even left that country.

A reasonable person, imho, would ask why the fuck Hamas would commit such atrocities if if thought Israel would respond by killing every Palestinian in Gaza.

The Palestinians in Gaza are certainly fucking demanding to know why the hell Hamas thinks it gets to start a war on them, why its leaders get to hide out and evacuate their families while demanding civilians bleed and die for it, and why it doesn't goddamn turn itself in and give back the hostages.

But anyway.

But that's the thing. I looked it up because I was compelled to. I identified with the people attacked. I needed to know what had happened to us.

That's something outsiders would only do if they were allies.

We know, now, that we don't have allies on the left.

I've seen post after post after post, hundreds and hundreds of comments, on Jewish Reddit, asking if other progressives are okay. Asking, "how are you dealing with rejection by the left??" Asking if others are also shocked and confused and betrayed. Talking about how many friends they've lost who went masks-off antisemitic. So many people who've had to end long-term relationships when their partners went masks-off.

There's usually at least one politically conservative Jew in the comments laughing wryly and going, "wow, you really thought you were safe?"

Sometimes they ask why we're on the left if everyone there wants to kill us. Then we defiantly point out that it's not any different on the right. Or that we're not going to abandon our political beliefs for anyone.

Anyway.

I didn't even watch the podcast clip past that moment.

I ragequit. I went to the file of eyewitness testimonies I'd already put together, after weeks and weeks of denial. (And by "file," I mean "draft in gmail, because it saves automatically, and it's easy to find, and i don't know why it's better than google docs or dropbox paper, but it just is.")

I took the clearest, most authoritative ones and put them into their own document -- which i did make in dropbox lol.

I duetted the video, or whatever the fuck the one is in tiktok where you just take 5 seconds from one video and the rest is your own. It's not duetting. Idk.

It was the middle of Hanukkah. I recorded a video where I read each of however many testimonies I had, and lit a candle before each one. It was almost 10 minutes long, even though I made them as short as I could.

I didn't post it.

I was triggered all to hell for a whole week. I was staying up till 3 or 4 in the morning, researching horrifying rape testimonies, arguing with people on the internet, then sleeping too little and too late, then doing it again.

Watching myself lose a whole week to this. Knowing I couldn't do anything about it. Half-angrily, half-numbly thinking about how I couldn't afford to lose this much job search time, this much unfucking-my-life time. How I couldn't afford to have people I didn't even know fuck up my life even more.

And the bitch of it all is that the tone of the discourse makes me strongly suspect that if we said, "hey everyone needs to walk it back, you guys are deeply fucking up the mental health of pretty nearly the entire Jewish community," people would just respond by angrily telling us anti-Zionism is not antisemitism, mockingly saying that's what Zionists deserve.

Thanks for asking <3

[hadeslegacyhephgirl]

Soulmate au pt1

here is the first part. FINALLY. Sorry it took so long, I like, promised this about a month ago (or it feels like that)

So enjoy, and I'm going to stress about my upcoming English and Hass exams. 😥

----------------------I------------------------------

People at Camp Half-blood hummed.

People at Camp Jupiter whistled

The new girl came to camp singing.

~*~ She was nothing special, just another Apollo kid.

Just another half-blood.

She never interacted with anyone she deemed not worth my fucking time, which was slightly rude, but people accepted it. Ares' kids were worse, to be honest- wait, Clarisse, no I didn't mean it like tha-

Her powers consisted of… almost nothing. She could play the guitar, though it took her a while to actually pick one up- memories and trauma, she told them- and the tunes were half-forgotton remnants of old tunes her dad had taught her, or she'd taught herself. She could aim well, though that wasn't surprising, most Apollo kids had good aim anyway. She loved music and ballet, though that was useless in battle. She couldn’t handle blood at all, which excluded her from the infirmary, though she liked organising the med kits, so at least she wasn't all bad.

All in all, she was just another half-blood. No-one had heard her soul-tune yet, in fact, she hadn't hummed or whistled or made any kind of music with her mouth.

In fact, for the first three days, no-one could get anything out of her but hi and fuck off.

So they would shrug, move along, leave her buried in on book or another, generally ignoring the world.

No-one even knew her name.

~*~

Jason had two problems.

The first problem being that he doesn't feel right about Piper. He thinks it's wrong that their soulmates.

Don't get him wrong, he loved Piper. Just... not that way.

He whistled, she hummed, and while the tune matched... it didn't feel right. Like it was a tune so similar, but just off.

Could that be it?

Could Piper and Jason have different soulmates?

The second problem was Leo.

Who had just come back from the dead and locked himself in his cabin- room? Cave?- and refused to talk to anyone.

Not even Jason.

His best friend.

He tried everything. But Leo just would not connect.

Like it was just Leo and everything else wasn't there.

Jason was worried. Because Leo was his best friend and well- he was worried, okay? He can be worried.

So he could do something about it, right?

Fuck it.

Jasons feet took him to Bunker nine, in the forest. The door was open.

Jason peered into the half-gloom and called out

"Leo?" Clanking.

But no response.

Jason sighed and walked it, looking at the half-finished projects, dust tools, torn plans. It looked abandoned. Sad.

Just like it's inhabitant.

Leo was bent over another small project, but gave up and threw it at the wall, and then just sat there, slumped over.

Jason didn't want to break the silence. So he padded over quietly and simply sat next to Leo, taking him in.

Leo was tired. Jason could tell from his slumped position, his enormous eyebags, and, well, because Jason just knew.

Then Jason raked his eyes down Leo's body- he's not checking him out, for fucks sake, he's just checking to make sure he's okay is what he tells himself- and noticed his hands.

Scraped and calloused and bloody, dried blood mixing with new cuts on his hands.

Jason can't keep it in any longer

"Oh Leo"

Leo doesn't react. Jason gets up, searches around, comes back with a clean cloth and a roll of bandages and sits in front of Leo, cleaning his hands and bandaging them. Leo doesn't move.

Until his mouth does, and his voice comes out as a croak.

"I thought- I just- she-" Jason exhaled. He got it. "Calypso?" Leo nodded slightly. "I'm sorry."

"'s not your fault"

"I know, but still." "I- I feel like I- failed- and that- that-" Leo broke down, and Jason encapsulated him in a hug, letting Leo soak Jasons shirt with tears and snot until it reduced to hitched breathing and hiccups. Jason doesn't say a word.

"I'm sorry" Jason has to stop himself from physically shaking Leo.

"Leo." "I- I'm a fuckup- jus- just like-" "Leo" "a-and I can't-" "Leo, listen to me. You are not a fuck-up, okay? You are human, and shutting down is perfectly alright, okay? You have nothing to apologise for, okay? Nothing" "… okay"

~*~

Nico was hiding.

He did a lot of that nowadays, but now he was hiding for a very specific reason.

Because he'd just heard Will fucking Solace humming his soulmate tune.

Will fucking Solace was Nico di angelo's soulmate.

So Nico was hiding.

Why?

He had no idea.

After all, he shouldn’t have a soulmate, as far as he's concerned.

Heck, he came from the 1800's.

Why the fuck would Will Solace be his soulmate?

Just how the heck did that work?

Nico buried his face in his hands, trying to block everything out because it was all to lou-

"Nico?"

Shit

Nico ran.

Again.

Because there was no way he's talking to Will now, or possibly ever

~*~

---------------------------I---------------------------