#And it gives jack whiplash every time

[themintman]

Day 6!! I don't watch horror movies, but from what I've gathered the experience seems to be 95% judging the main character and 5% screaming so like-

Also I just need more Nurm and Jesse interactions I NEED MORE NURM AND JESSE INTERACTIONS I NEE

Mcsmtober by @bumpkin-bug !!!

[fisshbones]

Hcs of some Hoyoverse characters!!

ft!! Heizou, Sunday, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Furina, Sampo, Xiao, & Pela

Genre: fluff/crack!! No warnings that I can think of besides of being mildly ooc and some being shorter than others. Could be read as platonic. Modern Au Gn! Reader.

Heizou ->

Has thousands and thousands of screenshots, pictures, and videos saved on his phone. Refuses to delete them because “you never know, they might come in use later.” Once in a VERY LONG while does his habit actually pay off. He’s paying for the cloud subscription service 1000% If he doesn’t his phone is borderline useless. If you go through it you’ll wonder how he finds jack sh*t in that phone, there’s no organization on/in that thing. That being said he doesn’t need to put things in separate albums because he had absolutely no issues with finding what he needs. (he’s literally me)

Sunday ->

Sunday likes to tend to his multiple gardens back where he lives. There’s two green houses back at his home. One is his and one belongs to his dear sister. If you want one too, he’ll gladly make some plans for yours next. When him or Robin can’t tend to the flowers, he has a gardener come tend to them in the meantime. While all of them brings joy to him he has a special soft spot for (white) calla lilies and spider mums.

Scaramouche/Wanderer ->

The definition of an annoying menace. He’ll put sticky notes with (sometimes with writing) on your back without you knowing. He used to do this to Childe too, only when it was Childe it would be way meaner. One fool read the ‘kick me’ note on his back and actually did it. Poor idiot guy learned a lesson that day. The worst he’s put on your back was a note with a stupid face on it. And if someone makes fun of you for it, he’ll give them a black eye! He’s the only one allowed to be an ass to you. :)

Furina ->

Does catwalk struts in her mirror when no one is home. She gets wayyyyy too into it. She’ll start on one side of the house and when she gets to her mirror she’ll strike a pose. One time you walked into her standing in front of the mirror doing pose 28. She couldn’t look into your eyes for a week afterwards. If you ask her to give her a lil show, she’ll do it but don’t laugh cause she might cry. lol. (she’s so me coded)

Sampo ->

He plays those driving games with the steering wheel and all. Sampo started streaming it too to make some hot cash$$ This man is DEDICATED to the act he preforms while streaming this game. If he gets into an accident in the game he makes it look like it happened irl too. He’s given himself whiplash from how fast and hard he slammed himself in his chair. think this.

Xiao->

BIG CONCERT FAN!!! Hates the crowds so much though (T ^ T) He’s so not a people person. Always manages to get great seats for you guys. He’s willing to see any performer if it’s for you, even if it’s not someone he likes. I personally see him as liking every genre of music, so there’s a fat chance he’ll still like the music being played. Xiao would put you on his shoulders if you ask him too. But I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to see any better this way because of how short he is.

Pela ->

Pela makes a crap ton of edits and fanfics. Any where between thirst edits and angst edits of anime characters. She’s got over 50k followers just waiting for her to drop the newest robin or satosugu edit. She’s also got of followers on the platform she posts her fanfics on. She’s big on x readers AND ship fics. That girl puts in work making sure both her edits and fics are absolutely perfect.

If you enjoyed likes/reblogs/replies are appreciated!!

fisshbones © 2024 do not repost or translate

[ssahotchnerr]

Omg, could you pretty please do a ice skating date with Aaron 🥺

everything

omg omg YES cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff and some suggestiveness <3

much to one's surprise, aaron hotchner was spontaneous, and it was one of the most romantic qualities he possessed.

the contrast was still enough to give you whiplash at times. once, aaron was the last person you would've thought to jump at an opportunity to stray from routine, orderly and structured in and outside the office. that's the reputation he still upheld when it came to the team. it was almost too hard to believe, despite your reassurances otherwise.

it had been a rare weekend date night; the two of you had just left dinner, and were heading back to the car when you came across the rink in the middle of the town square. before your brain could even process what it was, aaron was pulling you in the direction of the skate rental, peering back at you with a lively yet almost wise, cheeky expression on his face - he knew you would find this just as enjoyable as he would, probably more.

it was like a literal scene out of a movie, very hallmark-esque; colorful, twinkling lights surrounding the rink, soft snow flurries drifting in the air, the love of your life's hand in yours as you skated alongside each other, bundled up in a warm coat, hat, aaron was even sporting a scarf. the two of you made small talk, poking fun and laughing with each other if one of you merely slipped. the only correct way to describe it was pure magic.

as aaron talked about tomorrow's plans - jack wanted decorate the apartment for the holidays - you couldn't help but stare lovingly at him. he sent every part of you aflame; you were warm inside despite the near frigid cold, butterflies continuously erupted in your stomach, and just having him besides you, there weren't enough words to describe the feeling within.

you just kept thinking - this. this is how it's supposed to be. life, love, everything.

"why are you looking at me like that?" a chuckle shook through aaron's chest, gazing down at the ice with a mindful eye - weary and careful of potentially slipping and bringing you down with him.

you slid to a stop, gliding in front of aaron and grabbing onto both his hands. "because i love you."

aaron's adorable smile formed on his face, giving your glove-covered hands a squeeze. "or, is it because i look like a complete idiot?"

"well i mean, yes." you were quick to quip, deadpanning teasingly. aaron's laugh filled your ears and prompted you to release a laugh of your own. but, you shook your head. "no. again, because i love you."

aaron hummed in content. "how'd i get so lucky?" he gently pulled on your hand, and due to the slick ice, it was more than enough to cause your body to meet his, drawing you in for a sweet, quick kiss.

"funny, i was just asking myself the same thing." you grinned, running a hand along his chest before resuming to skate, towing him along. "have you even been skating before?"

"i must've at some point, i'm sure." aaron's lips formed into a smirk, separating your joined hands to place one on your lower back, sliding downwards. "better hold on just in case."

"careful." you playfully warned as your heart fluttered, narrowing your eyes jokingly at him. "skating doesn't give you the excuse to be handsy."

aaron's brown eyes always sparkled naturally, but add in the surrounding twinkling lights, they were simply ethereal. "says who?"

[ladylynse]

A DP ficlet for @schwoopsiedoodles. The prompt was technically 'New Years' but, uh, that was more of a starting point than a focal point with this one.

Phantasmagoria [FFN | AO3]: At first blush, the new year seemed like it would start off normally enough, but Danny should really know better than to expect normal by now. Still, this was not what people usually meant when they talked about a new year yielding infinite possibilities.

-|-

“Happy New Year, little brother,” Jazz said as she wrapped Danny in a hug. Fireworks burst on the TV, some celebration they’d switched to just before midnight, but Jazz clearly didn’t think that was loud enough to cover her next words because she lowered her voice before adding, “We made it through another Christmas, and we made it through last year, so we’ll make it through this one, too.”

“Happy New Year, you two!” Maddie said as she joined them and turned the affair into a group hug, and then Jack was on the other side, wrapping them all in a bear hug, and Danny—

Danny was being squeezed too tightly from every side now, and he was getting hot enough and feeling trapped enough that not phasing out of everyone’s grip was more of an active decision than what should be the tangible default of remaining in place. Jazz’s hair was tickling his nose, but better the smell of her shampoo than the scent of ectoplasm from his parents’ HAZMAT suits that lingered despite the intense decontamination and washing protocols. He should say something, maybe force out a laugh or joke about Jazz not breaking into song like usual, but—

But maybe that was it.

Maybe that’s what was bugging him, why he wasn’t as happy as he should be even though he knew, objectively, that Jazz was right, that everything was as good as it ever was these days.

Jazz wasn’t singing Auld Lang Syne.

It shouldn’t bother him. It’s not like she had to sing it. She just always had; it was practically as much of a family tradition as the annual Christmas argument. She liked the song—she had for as long as he could remember—and Maddie would join in once she started. So would Jack, even though he couldn’t sing any better than he could aim.

So why skip it this year?

There was something niggling at the back of Danny’s mind, a sort of awareness that came slowly, creeping over his skin and making it crawl in the process.

He didn’t feel hot any longer, but the feeling of being trapped definitely hadn’t gone away.

Maybe that was a good thing.

That meant that whoever was doing this to him didn’t know he’d realized something was off.

This didn’t feel like the Ghost Writer. Even if he’d mercifully decided to weave his stories into reality without rhyme, Danny doubted he’d give up the background narration entirely. He liked being in control of the narrative too much.

Danny wasn’t ruling out this being a dream, though, or some other happy simulation designed to keep him under, to keep him from questioning it. Things hadn’t worked out last time when he’d been dreaming of his friends, so if this was round two of ‘keep Phantom out of things by keeping him asleep’, shifting the narrative to his family might make a sick sort of sense. It would make more sense than an attempted reality rewrite from someone like Desiree—or someone armed with something like the Reality Gauntlet.

This was too personal for that kind of thing.

“Uh, Dad?” Danny finally tried. “You can let go now.”

“I’ll never let you go,” came the response, but it wasn’t Jack’s voice, it was Sam’s, and he was smelling her shampoo now, not Jazz’s, and Tucker was sandwiching Danny between him and Sam, and—

Shouldn’t he feel sick after a transition like that? After a lack of transition like that? This was a dream, but if Nocturn or whoever it was was trying to keep him down, wouldn’t they at least make him a little dizzy? It all might have felt seamless, a shift occurring between one blink and the next, but the whiplash between what is and what was—

“Dude,” said Tucker as he released Danny and stepped back, letting Danny see that not only was he no longer in his living room but he was also no longer in his house. They were in Sam’s room, and it was decorated the same as always; nothing seemed out of place at a glance.

Then again, if this was a dream, and he thought he knew how everything looked, would anything feel out of place when he was the one imagining it in the place it was now?

This was making his head hurt.

It just didn’t hurt enough to wake him up and snap him out of this, which was annoying.

Tucker was biting his lip, but his words burst out of him a split second later. “I know this is kinda a stupid question considering everything, but are you okay?”

He really wasn’t, but fine, Danny could play along. That was easier now that Sam had let him go at Tucker’s words, which had the unnerving effect of lessening his feeling of being trapped even though he knew he was still very much trapped.

But if the shock of the transition wasn’t enough to snap him out of it, and the shock of realizing what was going on wasn’t enough, what would be?

“I’m fine,” Danny said, and Sam promptly punched Tucker in the arm, who yelped.

“What was that for?”

“Asking a stupid question,” she ground out, “that made Danny feel like he had to lie to us and say he’s fine when he’s not.” Her gaze flicked to him. “What Tucker means is that it’s okay that you’re not okay yet, but we’re going to be here for you for as long as you need us.”

Wait.

What?

Tucker blew out his breath in something that wasn’t exasperation or a sigh but something else, something closer to…regret? Jazz would do that sometimes—she said it helped her to centre herself and get her thoughts in order—but had he ever heard Tucker do it?

“Sorry,” Tuck said. “I didn’t mean are you okay okay, because obviously this being a new year doesn’t mean what happened a couple weeks ago didn’t happen. I meant it more as a sort of ‘are you okay because you suddenly seem less okay than you were ten seconds ago’ and I wanted to know if it was something I did. Or Sam!” Tucker’s eyes flicked to Sam as he quickly added, “Please don’t hit me again. That really hurts.”

Coldness pooled in Danny’s stomach again, spreading outward and freezing his lungs. It was harder than it should be to repeat, “A couple weeks ago?”

Tucker’s laugh was a little too high not to be full of nerves. “Or, like, last week, with the funerals. And Vlad.” Sam’s foot shot towards Tucker’s leg, but he was already dancing back in anticipation. “He asked!”

“What about Vlad?” Danny pressed.

Sam stopped her attack on Tucker and frowned. “What do you mean, what about Vlad?”

“See?” Tucker flung out an arm towards Danny. “That’s why I asked if he was okay!”

Sam scowled at him, but it melted away when she turned back to Danny. “Okay, I get that it probably doesn’t feel worse than what he was always trying to do, but the paperwork’s that much closer to being official now, and I just…. I don’t want to lose you. We don’t want to lose you. And if we can’t figure out some way around this….”

“We will,” said Dani’s voice from behind him.

Danny jumped before spinning to face her, the what? spilling from his lips before he could think twice about it. Danielle was in her human form but in a black T-shirt and shorts he didn’t recognize, and—

And that wasn’t all he didn’t recognize.

A far cry from Sam’s bedroom, this place was basically a white box, sharp clean lines and maybe twice the size of his bedroom back home. Not small, but not necessarily big, considering it didn’t have windows or a visible door or, well, anything.

Anything, he realized as he looked around again, except some poorly hidden cameras.

Crud.

Maybe he didn’t have to recognize this place to know where he was.

Danielle was ignoring the cameras, apparently. She must’ve seen them—Vlad had trained her and he wasn’t incompetent in that, Danny was pretty sure—but she wasn’t looking at them. “We’ll get out of here,” she said. Repeated, presumably. “I can’t tell you how, obviously, but we will.”

Danny walked over to the nearest wall, turned his hand intangible, and promptly failed to stick it through the wall.

He wasn’t surprised, considering he’d dreamed himself up what must be some luxury cell courtesy of the Guys in White, but it was really disappointing to confirm that he was aware that he was dreaming but couldn’t control it.

(This had to be a dream. Nothing except dream made sense.)

“If you keep doing that, they’re going to separate us.”

“No,” Danny said with an assurance that better suited Jazz than him as he studied the wall for what seemed to be nonexistent flaws, “they wouldn’t have risked putting us together if they didn’t want something.”

“Yeah, and giving it to them would be bad. Got that. Hence the whole ‘not telling you how we’ll get out of here’ thing.”

“Except even that tells them something.” He turned back to Dani. “It tells them you have a plan.”

“Or it tells them I want them to think I have a plan.”

“Which is still technically a plan. It’s just a poorer plan.”

“Like you’re an expert on plans.” Danny snorted, conceding her point, so Danielle continued, “All that really matters is they’re guessing. Which they are. Because they don’t know us. Not well enough, anyway. It’s going to be their downfall.”

“I hope you’re right,” he murmured.

“Of course I’m right. I’m me. Besides, I’m not spending my entire birthday locked in here.”

Danny didn’t bother to verbalize the look he sent her; even someone as dense as the GiW agents he’d run into in Amity Park would be able to interpret his confusion.

Dani rolled her eyes at him. “Fine, my chosen birthday. New year, new me. Everyone else can have resolutions. I want cake.”

Danny grinned. “Cake would—”

Alarms swallowed the rest of his words.

He jolted awake, fumbling without opening his eyes for the whatever-it-was that was making that racket so he could make it stop, and it took a precious few seconds to blink awake and remember and scramble to make sure there were no remnants of any ghostly tampering.

Nothing, as far as he could tell.

No helmet, no dust, no goo, nothing new or out of place. He was still in bed, but he was awake. The beeping had stopped by now, so maybe he had imagined it? Maybe it had simply been the last bit of a dream before it had woken him up?

Danny crawled out from under the covers so he could take a peek out the window, and he winced at the glowing green eyes of his reflection before blinking them back to blue. He really had been on edge if his powers were this close to the surface. Maybe he should head downstairs for some water and—

There was someone sitting on the roof across the street.

They were looking in his direction.

They’d probably been looking in his direction the whole time.

That wasn’t as bad as it could be, considering the things that could be explained away because this was the Fenton household, except that Danny knew the silhouette of that particular someone.

It would explain the beeping, too, though he’d never realized it was that loud.

Against his better judgement, Danny opened his bedroom window. It wasn’t particularly cold out—Jazz probably had her bedroom window cracked right now—so it wasn’t like he had to break through a seal of ice to get it open. The main reason he kept his window shut was to discourage ghosts from popping in on him, and that only worked with the polite ones. Still, mild weather or not, he hadn’t been woken by his ghost sense.

“Valerie?”

She heard him, or maybe she just saw the window opening, but either way, she called up her sled and slid almost silently through the air until she was less than three feet from him. Her visor wasn’t shielding her face, and her arms were crossed, which he was hoping to take as a good thing and not a bad thing. “How long?”

“How long what?” Even as he asked it, he realized what she must mean. Oops. She’d heard him after all. “Sorry. From the beginning. Like, the beginning beginning, not just since Technus gave you your new suit.”

Something in her expression tightened. “Please just be straight with me.”

“What? I am!”

“No, I mean—” She broke off with a frustrated growl. “Look. If you answer my questions, we can leave the past in the past. Start fresh. New chapters and all that. But if you insist on playing dumb, I have no reason to trust you—or give you the benefit of the doubt. So how long?”

“I don’t—”

“How long, Phantom?”

Oh.

“Could you, um, be a little more specific than that?”

He was waiting for the dream to shift on him again.

It didn’t.

As Valerie’s frown deepened, he realized that maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he really had woken up. “Please?” It never hurt to be polite. In theory.

“How long has this been going on?”

She was still watching him, but there was a catch in her voice that hadn’t been there before, and it seemed real enough.

Of course, everything else had seemed real, too.

If this were a dream, his response wouldn’t matter. His response might even shift him somewhere else entirely. If this were really Valerie, though? This Valerie looked lost and was doing a poor job of hiding it behind a show of familiar anger. This Valerie—

“And how long,” she croaked, her composure crumpling entirely as her voice cracked, “is this going to keep going on?”

Wait.

“I don’t want to do this again.”

The dream—not-dream, whatever this was—did not conveniently remove him from the conversation.

“Don’t want to do what again?” he asked, even though he suspected he already knew the answer.

“I can’t keep jumping through possibilities.” The words were soft, more of a reluctant admission than anything else. “If this is you, stop it. It’s cruel even if you don’t think it is, and you always insist that you’re the good guy anyway. If it’s not you….” She swallowed. “Help me. Please. Even if you’re not my friend, be my ally. I— Our truce doesn’t have to end when this is over.”

She sounded like she meant it.

Maybe he should hope this wasn’t a dream after all, if only so he didn’t have to worry about having Valerie on his back all the time.

Then again.

If this wasn’t a dream, she’d be spitting distance from his secret even if she thought Phantom—in a feat of spectacular stupidity—was currently overshadowing Danny while under the same roof as the people who hunted him down at every opportunity.

If she were being honest about what might be an indefinite truce, though, that might not be a bad thing.

Danny wouldn’t say this in Sam’s hearing, but Valerie was a better shot than her, and having Val back him up from time to time would be beneficial in more ways than him not having to worry about her taking a shot at him.

“Indefinite truce if we get out of this alive?” he asked, offering her his hand.

She didn’t look amused at his choice of words, but she swallowed whatever scathing insult she’d wanted to spit at him and shook his hand instead.

“Great,” he said. “Meet me on the roof? I should really change for this.”

That earned him an eyeroll, but she grumbled, “Fine.”

He really did change before following her, first out of his PJs and into clothes and then transforming into Phantom, but she was waiting for him on the Ops Centre without a blaster, so that was a win.

“Thanks,” he said, even though he hadn’t really thought she’d fire at him right after being the one to call a truce. “And—please don’t shoot the questioner—can you elaborate on the whole ‘can’t keep jumping through possibilities’ thing?”

She sighed and sat down, hugging her knees and looking out at the horizon instead of at him. “It means exactly what it sounds like. Sometimes it takes longer for the shift to happen, but whenever it does, I’m somewhere else, in a new situation, and most of them aren’t pleasant.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Case in point, finding you where I found you, because I don’t have to be a genius to figure out what’s going on there.”

Danny winced, and not just because his parents were proof that geniuses could be astoundingly blind when they weren’t looking for something. He didn’t want to get into what Valerie thought now, though. They had more important things to talk about. “I’ve been doing the same thing. The shifting between situations like it’s a dream thing.”

“If you’re going through the same thing, then which of us is dreaming?”

If Nocturn or someone like him was involved, it wasn’t necessarily one or the other. They could both be dreaming.

Or this could be something else entirely and neither of them were dreaming, since Danny wasn’t sure why Nocturn would want them both to be aware that they were dreaming when that meant they’d be actively trying to snap out of it.

Still, better that they were dreaming than some something horrendously damaging and somehow unforeseen had happened to the timeline and they were dropping through alternate realities like they were tissue paper faster than Clockwork could sort it out.

“Beats me,” Danny said, offering Valerie a grin in the hopes that it would cheer her up. He held out a hand, and she took it and let him pull her up. “Let’s find out.”

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[therobotmonster]

Since Hasbro's decided they don't have to manage their own core lines anymore...

I have complex feelings about that largely summed up by 'time to break up the big IP houses like Ma Bell' and the following image:

But if we're going to be stuck in this universe, we might as well get something worthwhile out of it. So I propose that the Big H make nice-nice with their historical arch-foe Mattel, for one or more Masters of the Universe: Origins crossover lines.

For those that haven't been paying attention, Mattel's MOTU origins line is awesome, in large part because it has no pretenses about what He-Man is: Fun, and Dumb.

They've been making (not enough, mind you) new characters, resurrecting old ones, buying compatible concepts like Sun-Man and throwing them into the mix, and when they do crossover-stuff, it isn't just two figs from the two lines packed together...

They slam the very concepts together. I own a MOTU John Cena that is clear blue because he's 'invisible.' OF COURSE Ram-Man is going to turn into a mutant ram when they crossover with TMNT! It's the Demogorgon! And his weapon is a dice-mace.

It's a beautiful symbiosis. MOTU gets more crazy fun and reusable parts for their internal build-a-figure system and the other party involved gets a sip of what actually fun toyeticism tastes like.

So, since Hasbro's open to this kind of thing now, I propose the following:

Dungeons of Snake Mountain (D&D/MOTU Crossover)

Obvious crossover is obvious, but that doesn't mean 'bad'. In a battle with Skeletor, the planes intersect, sending the artifacts from both universes scattering into a sprawling multi-dimensional dungeon. Everyone's questing for it. Fun stuff.

Big Figure:

Granamyr - A little D&D'd up, but the classic MOTU dragon is the big boxed get for the set. To make this affordable, he's in a build-a-figure format, and his parts (minus head) are reused as build-a-figure incentives through the line to build a black dragon with a head evoking snake mountain's snake.

Every figure that does not have a build-a-figure bit comes with a bonus sidekick/familiar/little creature pulled from this list: Kowl, Madame Razz's Broom, pseudodragon-dragonblast dragon (free-standing), Zoar and Screech-colored birds that lock onto the forearm, Imp (She-Ra and D&D), Slime/ooze (one sculpt, many colors), flumph, demilich (doubles as bonus head), stirge, intellect devourer and gazer (mini-beholder).

MOTU Characters:

Bard of Power Adam - Slightly 'rockered up' and midevalized version of the classic Adam togs. Carries a 'poweraxe' anachronistic electric guitar-by-way-of-jack-kirby style lute. Short sword. Alternate "singing" head.

Paladin of GraySkull She-Ra - In strongheart-inspired armor. Sun sword, shield, adventurer's lantern.

Dragonborn Cleric Frosta - backpack piece replicates whiplash/rattlor style tail, white dragon (obs), breath-weapon plugin, Mace of Saint Cuthbert, multiple potions.

Elf Ranger Bow - Elf version of Bow (PoP if available, OG if not), uses a version of the Dragon Blast skeletor pack (animal companion). Hank's energy-bow from the D&D cartoon. Bear traps.

Dwarf Monk Fisto - shorter 'dwarf' legs and arm buck, Gauntlets of Ogre power. torch.

Aaracocra Wizard Stratos - Has full sorceress-style wings, Arcane Grimoire, wand of magic missiles. Scroll.

Rogue Buzz-Off - Buzz-Off in rogue's gear, boots of speed (wings on them), daggers, torch.

Warlock of Orcus Skeletor - Head is a ram's skull, using the heavyset wrestler torso buck. Havoc staff, rod of Orcus.

Fighter Orchead - Pighead geared up like the stock D&D cartoon orc / orc of the broken bone figure. Mace of Terror. Torch. Shield.

Barbarian Beast-Gnoll - Bright orange gnoll, carrying beserker axe, torch, whip.

Assassin Catra - Tabaxized Catra with cloak of displacement (irridescent shiny cloth), displacer-beast themed tentacle-whips, and poisons (potion bottles).

Sorceress Yaun-Teela - Oh no, she's been snaked again. Give her a proper snakey head this time, snake-fang whip, shield, Jake the Snake's snake.

Shadow Weaver - It's just Shadow Weaver, she has the hand of Vecna (alternate), two wands (recolors of Stratos and RingleRune's) and an alternate, un-hooded lich-face.

D&D Characters:

Evil-Aligned

Having found Skeletor's half of the power sword, Warduke empowers himself and a host of captive monsters, awakening them as per the awaken spell, and changing their type to monstrous humanoid.

Battle Armor War-Lord - Warduke using the battle-damage armor torso and carrying Skeletor's half of the Power Sword. Has that MOTU laser gun. Brighter, toonier colors than original.

Klaws-All the Hook-Horror - Mix of Mutant Ram Man, Andre the Giant/Krang parts, with clawful hand on one arm and a true hook on the other, new head (obviously). Chain/shackle harness and accessories in glowing or at least translucent plastic (magic bonds). Guards shaping staff.

Flarefang the Dragonborn Fighter - Classic Red Dragon. Whiplash with a new head, energy-blast plug for mouth. Very eternian looking sword/shield combo. Torch.

Hoot-zor the Owlbear - Grizzlor with bird-like face, bestial feet, and new claw-hands. Has terror-claws skeletor accessories to boot. Guards book of living spells.

Pu-Tryd the Troglodyte Queen - reuse of tailed female buck (Frosta), with troglodyte head. Carries the sword of the serpent (MOTU). has special shoulder-ports that plug in 'stink cloud' accessories (compatible with breath weapon ports).

Grotek the Duergar Artificer - Uses mostly the Extendar parts in a black knight scheme, new head. Comes with a grab-bag of techy MOTU gear and Mekaek's telescope-club. Golden disk of knowledge.

Greencleave the Troll - Uses a standard body buck with extra-long forearm and shin parts to produce a taller, gangly build. semi-translucent green, has two extra hands and 'stump parts' that those plug into, to make free-crawling troll hands out of whichever fists aren't in use. Guards masks of power.

Good-Aligned:

Battle Armor Strong-Heart - Same deal as Warduke, just with the roles reversed. Has that other MOTU laser gun and He-Man's half of the power sword.

Clank-or the Warforged Scout - Roboto torso with armored knight-like arms and legs, new head. Uses roboto forearm for the weapon parts and includes mekanek's neck. Staff of Avion.

RingleRune - Reuses a lot of Eldor parts. Eldritch book of spells, wizard's staff, wand of acid arrow.

Now for the challenging part, stuff that is essential but would need major tooling excuses. This is accomplished via the introduction of a 'kid' or 'sidekick' tooling.

Wild Mage Orko and Mimic - A new sculpt for a 2005 style Orko, in green robes (allowing for later reuse as canon 2005 Orko) with an eternian-style chest that springs open to reveal fangs and eyes. inner bits can be swapped out for normal treasure (allowing for tooling reuse)

Rust Monster and Rogue Loo-Kee - Loo-Kee in adventuring gear with a little rainbow colored dagger against a rust monster.

Cursed Adam and Cu-Boid the Modron - 2005 "kid" Adam (compatible buck with Loo-Kee) and a modron quadrone with dice numbers incorporated into his body designs. Cu-Boid is a rogue modron, with a spinning Man-e-faces like feature.

Zarak the Goblin and Meteorb Dinosorb - Yes, OG Zarak was an "orc" but he was also small in stature and not a pig-man like AD&D orcs at the time, and so I'm categorizing him as a goblin. Meteorb should be designed for maximum head/tail swappage for future reuse, has energy-flare trail that plugs in via standard FX plug.

Of course, each figure would come with all the stats for themselves and their stuff.

[avionvadion]

Oh I totally get the Vil whiplash. He was one of my least favorites at the beginning of Book 5, but by the end we were besties

I HATED HIM SO MUCH AT THE BEGINNING BECAUSE OF HOW HE TREATED EPEL, AND THEN- BOOM. WHIPLASH. AND NOW HE MY QUEEN. LIKE OOF.

He's so nice to me in pulls too T_T like I was so worried about this recent Master Chef/Culinary Crucible event because it was both Jack and Vil, but Vil came home on a single ten pull so I could focus on getting Jack via cooking the dishes and getting enough coins to get him with a shop key. HE'S SO GOOD TO ME.

Meanwhile Malleus, who I'm so devoted to, makes me suffer over a hundred to two hundred pulls every single time T_T sometimes I wonder if I should threaten him with divorce because CURSE IT, Vil is the only one good to me!

I will literally cry if I fail to get his upcoming birthday one. There should be at least seven ten keys from the birthdays between October and January (Huzzah for Jade and Floyd being twins and giving two instead of one) and if he doesn't come home before the hundredth I will SCREAM AND WAIL LIKE THE GHOSTIES FROM HALLOWEEN TOWN BECAUSE WHYYYY MALLEUS WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO MEAN TO ME. I AM DECORATING MY GUEST ROOM STRICTLY DIASOMNIA FOR YOU. PLEASE. PLEASE BE NICE. COME HOME EARLY, I BEG OF YOU.

[sisterpaxton]

okay story time about the crazy grown ass woman from when i was a teen that would dump her hcs about otis csa from his dad and try to get me to tell her sex hcs about spotis cause it "helped her stress" and harass me for fanart

back when i just turned 16 there was this bitch who found me cause id post otis art on insta. grown ass adult woman btw. and she started to dm me and beg me for detailed hcs about sex (cause at 16 i was an obnoxious kinnie about spaulding and she shipped spotis) which in retrospect was extremely weird but that wasnt the fucked up part. she had like 10 different fics, some going over 40k words, where shed have entire chapters describing otis as a kid getting brutally raped by his dad. she was also super obsessed with otis having an ED and hip problems from where his dad broke his hips from raping him so much as a kid (keep all this in mind for when you read the screenshots). shed dm me randomly outta the blue while i was in class for my GED telling me her otis csa ptsd hcs. that was the shit that made me so disturbed. all of this was unprompted. and at 16 i was going through a lot with being homeless and my dad going to prison for dv so i was just letting her yap in my dms bc these things dont trigger me but it sure was fucking weird.

flash forward to about 2 years ago and she tried to ask jack for the otis bio pics and he was like hey....wait....aint you the cunt who used to fantasize child rape in my man's dms when he was a vulnerable teen and she deleted all her fics like they never existed. crazy shit.

screenshot dump just so yall can see how....strange this chick was:

^ this one isnt too bad its just so random. source? what the hell are you on about? why are you fantasizing about the irl man bill moseley with your weird ED fetish?

^ her randomly bringing up otis getting raped as a kid. again. as she always did. left the first part in just so you can see how she'd just shove it into every convo.

^ the first screenshot is showing how shed fucking interrogate me to give her descriptions of her weird fetish. also she wouldn't stfu about woobifying otis for it. love how you can essentially see me being like Why Are You Thinking About This So Much

^ this is just a general cringe screenshot cause im like yeah they used to rob places and kill people together of course cutter's dug a bullet or two out of otis before and vice versa. and shes like Fuck.....if otis went to the hospital.......how was my 16yo ass less cringe and more logical than this grown woman

^ i actually clearly remember i was ghosting her during this time period because of school and also just. i didnt wanna keep having her bring up kid rape about my man every 4 messages. and here she is doing it again unprompted.

^ ANOTHER UNPROMPTED OTIS RAPE HC !!! LET HIS HOLE REST GIRL GODDAMN.

^ im talking about my surgeries and this bitch just pops off with "otis hates sucking his dad off" i remember the whiplash this gave me and its been 6 damn years. it still takes me off guard every time i remember.

^ to end this on a lighter note cause this always makes me laugh. ma'am do you even remember who youre talking about

[thewiglesswonder]

My Wig in christ, pour on some more TOH salt for me, I've entirely blocked out season 3 because I genuinely wished for something more. Like GD, they could've went all out with a bang but they ended with a whimper :|

Buddy, you've come to the right place!

"Ending with a whimper" is the perfect way to describe another element that I haven't gotten to talk about in-depth too much: Belos' death.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: a story is only as good as its antagonists. Without a really strong force to struggle against, your protagonists feel flat and the story feels kinda pointless. Belos, in the first half of the show, was set up to be an amazing antagonist. Beautiful, creepy aesthetic, killer design, incredible voice work, and, most importantly, major hints of complexity.

Seriously, of the modern age Disney villains that I can think of, none of their backstories even come close to the level of detail that Belos' has. From what we know for certain in the show, by his memories and Gravesfield's folklore/history, the Wittebanes were orphaned at a very young age and entered into the established Puritan commune in colonial New England. Which, if you know absolutley anything about Puritans, you know how hard of a thing that is to do. Philip, the younger of the two, was practically raised by Caleb, and looked to be extremely close with him.

Let's take a second to unpack this. You've got a young child, who may not even be old enough to quite remember what life was like with two parents and a permanent home. Everything revolves around his brother, the only source of comfort and stability, who navigates through the world, brings them to a new place, carves him a mask (which, in my opinion, speaks to not everything being especially neurotypical up there, but that's another thing), plays with him, makes sure they're properly enfolded into the town and its proclivity for witch-hunting. Caleb was Philip's entire world.

And then, when he's still a teenager, Caleb up and runs off with a witch. The thing that Philip's been told his entire life is a servant of the devil, whose only purpose on this earth is to beguile and bewitch the righteous to the path of evil, damning them to hell.

Look me in the eye and tell me that isn't a goddamn sympathetic backstory if you've ever heard one. Not every villain can or even should be redeemed, but fleshing them out as characters goes a hell of a long way when telling any story.

And what does the narrative do with this? Jack shit.

We have enough information from the background alone to stitch together this incredibly complex backstory for our main antagonist, and here comes the finale! Where we are told that Philip was always evil and always will be, nothing to be done except kill him.

He gets next to no speaking time as a giant monster, and gets kicked to death. That's it.

Just... everything about how Belos was dealt with in the second half of the season was so incredibly incongruous with what we've had revealed about him. The main-villain spotlight was pulled from him and given back so fast it gave me whiplash, and they couldn't even dredge up the skill to give him a death that at least felt satisfying any way, shape, or form.

[6anona9]

I keep forgetting I have a tumblr,,, anyways, here’s a batjokes fic.

Joker decides to catfish Bruce Wayne (for the money of course). There’s smut and it’s a bit aggressive (choking mostly)

Joker thought himself brilliant for the plan. Of course he was brilliant for it, after all, he's the Clown Prince of Crime.  What better crime than to catfish a playboy billionaire?

Harley had been against the idea at first. What if he got caught? His identity revealed? But when Joker started coming hone with pockets full of cash and expensive gifts, it was hard to hold him back.

The entire arrangement was a secret of course. Bruce Wayne couldn't be seen with any type of partner if he wanted to uphold his status as most eligible bachelor. It was perfect for both of them-Bruce gets to let off steam and Joker doesn't have to commit to anything other than a quick session. Tonight would be one such arrangement.

Joker had already lost track of how many "dates" it had been, though the two had been seeing one another for at least a few months by this point. "Jack Napier" was the name Joker had decided to go by for this little operation, after all, he was supposed to be playing the part of an ordinary man. Joker had taken every precaution he could think of to play "Jack." A bit of makeup, giving life to his skin. A bit of cheap dye, turning his green hair a light brown. As far as anyone could tell, this man was an ordinary Gothamite. And so here sat Jack, tucked off in the corner of a small bookstore.

It wasn't the type of place the Joker would be, but it was definitely a place for Jack. A place for Bruce Wayne. Second hand books with broken spines filled shelves, as well as encyclopedias thicker than Bruce Wayne's ass.

Of course the Joker had followed Bruce relentlessly, trying to find the type of place he'd like to be, the type of people he was into. Women would throw themselves at Bruce, attractive women, and he barely showed interest. It only made sense. After all, any man who's considered a "bachelor" for well over 10 years doesn't look at women.

As Jack waited in the bookstore, he ran through a few covers. There was never anything of interest, though maybe this time would be different. Then again, why would it be.

"Fancy meeting you here"

A familiar voice, familiar footsteps, and a familiar aura.

"Bruce fucking Wayne," Jack says in a teasing tone, not bothering to turn around. "Took you long enough." He pulled out a random book pretending to read. Something something ethics. Damn this was a stupid book.

"Aw, don't hold it against me. I was stuck at a meeting ~"

Jack finally turns around, dramatically rolling his eyes. "Damn rich people," he sighs.

Despite having all the money in the world, Bruce always dressed somewhat modestly, and today was no different. A plane black turtle neck, black dress pants, and black work shoes. In Jokers mind, Bruce and Batman were in a competition to see who had the most black clothing.

Bruce gave Jack a flirtatious smirk. "You love me anyways~" he says with confidence.

"Of course~" Jack never misses a beat. It was such an odd word to him. "Love." Harley used to say it to Joker all the time, and he said it back. Eventually she grew bored, saying it to Ivy instead. He never really understood stood that. A few weeks into seeing one another, Bruce said it too. It felt like a game more than anything else. A sortve verbal Simon Says. It was an unspoken rule of an unspoke game. When someone says "I love you," you have to say it back.

Bruce glanced around the decrepit bookstore for a moment, wary of prying eyes, though Bruce and Jack were the only ones present. Once his anxieties eased, he put a hand behinds Jacks back, pulling him close. "Fuck I've missed you" he whispered.

The first time Bruce had touched Jack, it neslry gave him whiplash. It was part of the plan; make Bruce fall in love, sleep with him, and give him money. What Jack never anticipated was how weirdly strong Bruce was. His grip was never aggressive, but always firmer than expected. Even now, even as Bruce pulled and their hips met, Jack could never get used to it.

The book Jack held was now on the ground, having dropped with a loud thud, though Bruce ignored it. Their lips were now locked together, and it took all of Jacks will power not the start laughing.

It only made sense that Bruce would act like this. As far as Jack was concerned, he was a spoiled rich brat. Of course Bruce would act selfishly and without restraint. Of course his hands would greedily grab and reach for Jack. Jack was a perfect little toy for Bruce until one of them grew bored.

Being his own plan, Jack was never against anything Bruce tried. Expensive dates and wandering hands were always part of the plan. Even now as his breath hitched and hands reached lower down to Jacks ass. He'll hold his breath, try not to laugh, and play along.

Jack pulled back for a moment, trying to catch his breath. "M-Maybe we should move this elsewhere~?" He and Harley had binged every porn film they could find, anything to help improve Jokers acting.

And it worked. "R-right." Then again, maybe Bruce was just too eager

Bruce would never be caught dead with someone in Wayne Manor. It only made sense that he made arrangements for nearby hotels, paying anyone and everyone to pretend they never saw. He was a spoiled brat, but the man knew how to evade tabloids.

Before he knew it, Jack was already being thrown on a bed, Bruce on top. Before he knew it, Jack was already topless, Bruce struggling with his belt. Before he knew it, Jack was already being sucked off by Bruce fucking Wayne.

As much as he hated to admit, there wasn't a second of this that Jack hated. Even a Clown Prince of Crime wasn't immune to the pleasures of the human body. But fuck was it embarrassing to let out a moan. Anytime Bruce did anything to his body, Jack had to cover his mouth, to hold back (despite his many crimes, the Joker still had SOME dignity).

In one swift motion, Bruce had already swallowed Jack whole, the entirety of his member deep in the playboys throat. It was almost pathetic seeing how hungry this rich boy was, the joke practically writing itself.

It was something the Joker couldn't quite explain, but it felt almost as if he'd done this before, an almost dejavú every time he came into contact with Bruce. There was the obvious, which was that they had, in fact, done this before, but that wasn't it. Of course he's had sex and head and all sorts of other debauchery, but that wasn't it either.

As Bruce continued to suck, Joker could already feel himself close to his edge, and it wasn't just an act. "Sh-shit, Bruce, wait-" his fingered laced through Bruce's hair, not wanting to be defeated so easily. A safe word had been arranged, but using it would be an admittance of submission, and the Joker wouldn't do that either.

A simple "wait" would not be enough, and Bruce decided now was the ideal time to keep going. He continues to swirl his tongue around the Jokers member, his hand now making its way towards Jacks entrance.

Jacks body now writhed in bed, finding it harder to hold back moans as Bruce shoved a finger inside, not bothering with lube or much prep work. If it were any other man, the sudden intrusion might have been painful, but to someone like the Joker, the pain was bliss.

A small sound escaped Joker as he bit his lower lip to stay quiet. It wasn't uncommon for the Joker to bite too hard, causing a few drops of blood to spill, and this was no exception. If Bruce didn't stop soon, he really might just burst.

Finally, the playboy decided to take the hint, though only temporality. A relief to take a break and yet excruciating all the same.

Though it was only temporary.

Bruce quickly flipped Jack onto his stomach, forcing the smaller man face down and ass up. Now would come the fun part for both parties.

Just as quickly as everything else, Bruce undead his belt, pulling his pants down only enough to expose his fully erect member, already dripping as Bruce stared at the meal before him. Not wasting anymore time, he thrust inside Jack, though only making it about halfway.

"A-ah, fuck~" even after all this time, Jack still couldn't get used the feeling. There could be a million reasons why this playboy was still a bachelor, though lack of skill was not one of those reasons. Ever since their first encounter, Bruce had managed to find all of Jacks weak spots faster than anyone had before. It was a confusing mix of frustration and pleasure, not knowing why he felt so weak to another person. The only other person that made him feel this insane was Batman himself.

"Baby you feel so good~" Bruce went deeper still, driving Jacks body into the mattress. Joker had done this mainly for the shits n giggles, as well as the money. Even though he refused to say it out loud, a good fucking was always a nice bonus. Bruce was a bit larger than what the Joker had been used to, but that small ounce of pain brought a smile to the sadistic clowns face, grinning madly as he kept his face buried in the sheet below him.

As Bruce continued to drill into Jack, he grabbed for Jacks hair, forgetting his own strength for a moment. Bruce's other hand gripped Jacks thigh, steadying the two men while simultaneously pulling Jacks hips closer to himself.

By this point in the relationship, Jack knew when Bruce was close to finishing. Bruce spoke surprisingly little, but his body spoke in his behalf. The closer to his edge, the more aggressive Bruce became. Slamming harder into Jack, his own breath labored, and his rhythm falling apart. It was in these moments, these small bursts of aggression that Jack truly felt his mind wander, slowly slipping away from his character. Of course this wasn't the first time he'd been used so aggressively by another man.

Joker could help it. Get fucked sideways really screwed up his already shitty brain. Here he was getting railed by a Gotham rich bitch and his mind goes to the only person he even slightly cares about. The adrenaline he felt getting his ass fucked by Bruce Wayne was no different than the adrenaline felt getting his ass kicked by Batman.

The more he thought about that stupid bat, the more he lost control of his own body. "S-Stop, Bruce, please, fuck-." As far as the Joker was concerned, Batman and Bruce Wayne were nearly the same. The only people that ever made him feel anything. Fuck that's confusing. "B-Bruce, I'll cum~"

The words were the only motivation needed for the playboy to continue, picking up his pace as he tried to find his rhythm once more, pulling at Jacks hair. Jack can't argue with good dick, but fuck it would feel better if there were a fight involved.

Bruce's hand slowly let go of Jacks thighs, tracing its way up his body and wrapping gently around his neck. It had been discussed ahead of time of course. It was the easiest way for Jack to get his kicks, but Bruce never did it right.

Bruce held Jacks neck tightly, though carefully. Pressure was applied on either side, but never interrupted the airflow. Joker would simply have to use his imagination.

Batman wouldn't screw up a simple chokehold. Joker nearly lost consciousness a few times from that grip. The Clown Prince knew Batman would never let him die, but the temptation was always there, and it was the most alive Joker ever felt.

Jacks breathing became moans, almost a scream as he finally came, staining the sheets beneath him. Bruce was close behind, finishing deep inside and both men suddenly became light headed, falling numb beside one another.

The Joker could hardly think, almost forgetting where he was. Bruce pulled the man in close to his chest. Joker thought for sure that he had died,  his mind confusing Bruce's arms for Batman. It would take no time at all for the two of them to fall asleep

~~~

The Joker was back in full swing, strutting along a building rooftop while his green hair shined in the moonlight. He walks over to the railing, looking over the city with that sadistic grin as the wind hits him. A familiar dark figure approaches.

"You've been awfully quiet lately" a gravely voice said.

Joker turns to face the figure as he leans against the railing. "What can I say, I'm a busy clown~

Batman steps closer to the clown, though still hidden in shadow. "A busy Joker only spells disaster... what have you been doing?"

Why not tell the truth? After all, Batman would never believe him. "I got a new fuck doll is all~" he says with a teasing grin

Even from beneath the cowl, Joker can just tell the Batman has an eyebrow raised. "You kidnapped a girl?"

A deep laugh finally escapes joker, echoing on the rooftop. "Not this time Batsy! I found a loser who actually wants to be around me. In my DMs 24/7, 365!" He does a dramatic twirl for emphasis.

The only response is an eye roll and a quite "tsk"

Joker approaches Batman with that that cocky grin, though the Bat hold his ground. "Don't worry Batsy," the clowns voice softens for a moment, but never loses that teasing tone, "no toy can ever replace you~"

Another eye roll. "I don't care what you do in your free time as long as you're not causing trouble. And frankly, I don't believe that you're not causing trouble."

"Oh don't worry Batsy, I'm too sleepy for that!" He turns, dramatically leaning his back against Batman's chest. The Bat doesn't move. This was one of the Jokers favorite acts. The one where Batman pretends to be scary and menacing but deep down, he actually gives a shit.

"Watch it. You're too close for comfort"

This was when the act really started to get good. Joker would say something in his teasing tone and Batman would get mad, putting Joker in a chokehold. And just like clockwork, that was exactly where the situation went, the clown now gasping for air.

Where Bruce Wayne was kindness, Batman was only frustration and anger. Even while being lifted off the ground, losing his life, Joker couldn't help but think just how pretty Batman was when he was angry.

Joker stutters out a broken phrase, but one he knows will get a laugh. "Y-your grip is getting s-stronger sport~"

The grip tightens further, and Jokers body gets excited once more. And now was his favorite part of this act. The part when Batman bends him over and fucks him into tomorrow.

The clothes stayed on, because it ALWAYS stays on. It's part of the act. Batman bends Joker over on the closest thing (in this case, a literal railing) and pulls Jokers pants down only enough to expose his ass. It was almost like a punishment game. The more aggressive Batman became, the better. 

"You're fucking sick," Batman says through gritted teeth, choking Joker as he thrusts deeper inside.

The more Joker tries to talk, the more it hurts, and the better his entire body feels. "S-Sick for you~" there was no reason to hold back when being fucked by Batman. About half the Rogue Gallery had received this type of "justice," though none as often as the Joker himself.

Once Batman had finally filled Joker, the clown was a shaking mess, saliva dripping down his chin as cum dripped out his ass. As far as the Joker was concerned, there wasn't a single person willing to make him feel as dangerously good as Batman.

In a few days, Joker would be healed good as new. After that; another session with Bruce Wayne.

[peepsandtubz]

Every time I watch Buddy Daddies I forget Rei is jacked as hell and every time that man is shirtless I get whiplash like I KNOW he works out but he gives off withering vibes I can't help but forget he's ripped

[saingirl101]

NeverAfter Ep 16 As Brian David Gilbert Gifs (SPOILERS!!!!)

Man hoping for a bit of a lighter episode after how rough last week's episode was. Luckily looks like there could actually be some funny bits in this one and excited to free the golden goose.

(Update: Thia was a really really fun and heartbreaking episode. Really enjoyed it and I think the gif thread shows that. Enjoy everyone!)

As always:

Finding out the villagers may eat the 'giants':

Little tiny gandalf wizards trying to hold destiny's children:

The start of Gerards divorce arc comeback just jumping a whole ass mile and getting all his HP back with second wind:'The start of Gerards divorce arc jumping a whole ass mile and getting all his HP back with second wind:

Mother Goose Rolling that Nat 1 to try and Convince Jack that he is his son:

The fucking bird knights:

Pinocchio Going full Fuck Alphonse Mode and Alphonse's Reaction:

Rosamund summon a sharp bird that rips a wizard into pieces and drops it on more of the forces:

Ylfa eating the cold damage spell from the wizard like ice cream:

The Golden Goose being totally nonchalant:

Tim having depression over not being able to convince jack because he is missing his book:

Gerard finding out his husband might be here:

Ylfa rolling 2 nat 20s to yoink Tim out of damage:

Tims no good very bad day and missing getting the counterspell on the hold monster that hit rosamund:

Gerard barely hanging on with 3 HP and evading a critical hit that may have insta killed him:

Pib and Gerard freeing the Goose and using a maneuvering attack to help the goose move and it starts flying them through time and space:

Cricket eating the head off one of the attackers:

Ylfa's Bottleneck part 2:

Rosamund sending her sharp bird to help out the golden goose with a bird off:

THE FUCKING STEPMOTHER COMING BACK IN THE VOID WHILE PINOCCHIO IS MAKING DEATH SAVES:

The dual back to back of the goose saving Pinocchio and healing him for 70 HP + Mother Goose saving the Goose from polymorph with a counterspell nat 20:

Gerard continuing his revenge tour and after getting brought back to 1 hp takes out the tiny wizards:

YLFA THE BEAUTIFUL DAMAGE SPONGE WHO JUST TANKS HITS AND THEN LEAPS AWAY:

THE GOLDEN GOOSE GETTING TOM THUMB, THUMBELINA, THE GOLDEN EGG, AND THE GOLDEN HARP:

More Heartbreaking conversations between Tim and Jack:

Pinocchio giving cricket a firework to murder alphonse and then rolling a nat 20 on call of destiny to save him after PIB begged for his life:

ALPHONSE BEING A CURSED PRINCE APPARENTLY???? THE PINOCCHIO BREAKING THE CURSE:

ALPHONSE SHOWING THE GOOSE WHERE FUCKING TOMAS, HIS BROTHER, AND TIM'S BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND HENRY WERE AND THE GOOSE BRINGING THEM TO SAFETY:

ME AT BRENNAN AFTER THAT FUCKING WHIPLASH OF AN EPISODE AND THE REVEALS AND THE TRAILER FOR EP 17:

Brennan as always every week:

[aerodaltonimperial]

hello friends are you a fan of delicious flavor pain? cool, i have some for you. 🤣

His room is quiet. Of course it’s quiet: he’s nuked the only thing he had going for him. Jack sits on the balcony in the muggy night air and stares out at the lights. Toronto feels so far removed from everything else at present, a stasis. A blip. A pause in the middle of the earth’s rotation.

But this was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Eventually, Hook was going to decide that Jack wasn’t worth it. That he consistently fell short. That being around someone who had so little to offer was simply not worth it. And Jack had to be the first one to act. He couldn’t make it through another month of whiplash in one piece if everything had finally shaken out the way he expected, wouldn’t have been able to keep going. Hook hadn’t been there on Friday night for a reason: because Jack just isn’t worth being friends with. Because losing every time, inches from the victory line, is the only way of life Jack knows anymore.

Now, he’s alone. Again.

He pulls his phone out, thumbs into the gallery. The last photo they’d taken was from only a week ago, backstage. Jack is smiling; Hook is smirking, the closest he ever really comes. Behind them on one of the folding chairs, visible behind the folds of Hook’s hoodie, is the FTW belt.

Jack selects it, hits delete, and then can’t press the confirm button. His finger hovers above the screen.

Delete. Just delete it.

Frustration swells. Jack puts his phone down, focusing back on the lights and sounds of the city. He had to do it. He had to do it before it was done to him. But his chest is tight and thick, his lungs constricting as though he’s drowning and gasping for air. His neck is hot, alight with shame. He had to do it. He had to.

He opens his phone again. Selects the picture. Clicks ‘confirm.’

Pauses. Still can’t do it. He growls, chest growing tight with rage, because he can’t do it. He chucks his phone across the balcony and doesn’t bother to retrieve it again, and the photo is still there, in his gallery, a reminder of all his mistakes.

Jack stays there for a long time, because he knows he won’t be sleeping that night.

++

His room is quiet. He hadn’t expected it to be quiet; it rarely is, anymore. And he’d started to get used to having someone else around during the times that maybe he would rather have been alone to collect his thoughts. Hook sits out on the balcony in the air that threatens to choke him, heavy with a thousand things he thinks maybe he should have seen coming. The traffic blinks red and white and green below, flashes of people going on with their lives while he’s stuck here, now, in this moment he’d give anything to fucking burn.

Hook closes his eyes, inhaling. Did he deserve this, after everything?

Maybe he did. Maybe this is what happens when you run from things you don’t want to face: you end up getting sucker-punched with a whole new set. He opens up his phone and pulls open the message thread. It feels terribly one-sided now, looking back. Hook never has enough to add. His answers are always short, to the point.

He hadn’t meant to make Jack think he wasn’t invested, he just never knew what to say. People always used to tell him that he felt distant, even when he was around.

He’s never understood the implications of what that might mean as much as he does at this moment.

Now, he’s alone. Again.

The last message sent was Jack sending a backstage photo. It’s a good photo, actually, because it’s just...carefree. But Hook had set the FTW belt on the chairs when they’d taken it. He can see the gold, the damning shine, behind his still form. Hook’s temples throb. He’s gonna have a killer headache in a few hours from that impact on the ramp.

Hook pauses over the thread. He can delete the whole thing, months of their conversations, in one fell swoop. He can erase everything, every last trace.

Delete. Just fucking do it.

But every time his thumb gets close to the confirmation button, he chokes. Eventually, Hook turns his phone off and drops his chin. Breathes in and out. He needs to get to the painkillers, and he can’t get his limbs to obey his commands.

Is this karma, for everything he’s done?

Hook sits there for a long time, listening to the swell of the city as it slowly lessens, beneath the light of the moon he’s sure is set to betray him next.

[fagbearentertainment]

To the anon that asked abt dsaf; I'll try to explain what each game is like so you can choose whether to play or not

The first game is a shitpost, really. It doesnt take itself seriously and despite everyone saying it's bad, I'd say it's a fun thing to play to pass the time. Once I downloaded it on a school computer and played it in class and got away with it

The second game is the best one imo. It starts off in the same shitposty manner as the first one but regardless of whether you go the good route or the bad route there are serious scenes that are really well written. There's lore drops, just enough for you to understand what/why is happening but still not every mystery is explained, giving you freedom to try to use the limited information you have to think of a headcanon. If you dont care for all that you can always go for a neutral ending, most of which are all silly.

The third game is a tonal whiplash. If you decide to go with the good ending first like I did, then you'll notice that most of the comedic nature is gone (there are still silly moments but this and the bad ending are a lot more serious. Can be annoying if you're here just for some laughs) VERY lore heavy. The atmosphere is really good. Longest of the bunch. Very character driven. Boiling hot take but this is the worst one in the series and not bcs of the serious tone. I don't mind that. anyway uhhhhh

Yea thats all the spoiler free things I can think of to say. um. my final message to you all (in this ask) is uhhhhhhhh

legacy jack is underrated

~the bigender Charlie anon

[rayofmisfortune]

About pre-virus ruin, ye, I suppose that's true. Thinking about it more, I do hope the showrunners keep it that way. Something about seeing them at their silliest and then getting the massive WHIPLASH after seeing them like THIS is... it's sad. I like to think we witnessed two character deaths that video. It's just that one started dying 50 years ago :') (l like to imagine their silliness originated from somewhere at least and was not all made up. A remnant from simpler times...) (1/10)

Aaaaah yea! And... if they end up giving us a backstory of them... I just reaaally want to see how they were dealing with the virus and adjusting to everyone around them being infected... I doubt it was easy on them qwq (no we're not writing that (i wanna) we already have a gazzilion unfinished projects glaring @ us)

I- wow I kinda forgot my stuff is on there jfjfjf AH I'M GLAD YA LIKED THEM! :3 I have a lot more in my drafts and as wips- well obviously it's not posted anywhere hehe

Well... hmmm if anyone WERE to fill in Jack in on the... news... i... i feel like he wouldn't take it well. "Where is Solar!" Oh buddy.. oh you precious murder machine qwq (had to look up what osmosis meant haha first time seeing the word n all that)... Jack slowly piecing it together as in the process of figuring it out he also slowly becomes sentient... I'm fine mhm

Oh, yea that... that is a sound reason. They, they had their reasons. I honestly like... don't think they ENJOYED hurting people. They were just... soooo off the leash when they arrived in this dimension. Scaring the hell out of Cassie and Gregory, the constant death threats, violent games and tricks. (One to three will always live in my head... "I can help with the cutting.") Like I said in... idk in which answer honestly it's all blurring together lmfao fjfjfj They kept up this act for FIFTY PLUS YEARS! And... they even managed to be one of their dimension's... I forgot the word but what the Ruin dimension's Monty was?? They were GOOD at their act. SO good they fooled everyone around them. Granted tho... those infected robots aren't too dreadfully hard to fool. Sun, when he was in Ruin's dimension, managed to fool one of them, convinced it he was Ruin. That robot didn't seem to posses the same level of sentience as the Ruin Monty we've seen in there (not to be confused with Ronty, rest in peace).

Fair! The lie detector video is.. really as ya said, our most reliable source of info. Even though some of the answers that were dinfed as truths were... weird.

Oooh you're right I haven't even thought of that heh. That was just silly in denial talk I suppose heh The Creators would have surely noticed... or... would they even have cared? Creators are selfish, self-centered insane geniouses... would they even care if one of their own suddenly vanished?

AHHHHH IT WOULD BE WORRYINGLY IRONIC 😭 Add onto that the very possible paraller between Cold Moon trying bring back his Sun and New Moon most likely going to drive himself to the point of shut down trying to find any signs of Solar possibly surviving... Oh my gosh I do NOT like this arc... WHY DOES EVERYTHING GO DOWN AROUND THIS TIME EVERY YEAR IT'S SO EXHAUSTING 😭

Mmm yea probably hehe We... don't really have anyone asides from Solar and Ruin to fact check this heh

[missnight0wl]

Hey, Marta! I have no hp related to say except that whatever's going on hogwarts legacy seems to be just romancing sad white boys and nothing on plot or whatever, disappointing. (Which is fine on fics and romance centered stories, but so far I heard no one complementing or even commenting on the story.)

I think a lot of these media/game developers think they can simply rely on the brand Harry Potter and just spew any half assed stories with the cover of 'ohh spells and references'. I don't even have nostalgia for anything and it makes me sad to see it watered down to the technicalities of the world and not the story that lies in its core.

But capitalism I guess.

Anyway, I took so long to listen to Eat Your Young and oh my, what a bop! Why does Hozier use such a sexy voice to sing the horrors??? I truly hadn't heard him in interview in a while so when I heard Through Me, I got whiplash. While Scottish still my darling accent, Normal People gave me an appreciation for Irish accent.

Well, those were just some random meanderings. I hope you're doing well 💖 *virtual hug*

Hello, Bee! It’s really good to hear from you! ☺

I’m gonna be honest, I’m actively not following information on Hogwarts Legacy, so I can’t really comment on that. I have a vague idea about the plot thanks to my friend who’s more interested in it, but she also said that the story is rather bleak overall. So... there’s that, I guess. But as I said, I don’t know enough to give my opinion.

That being said, I do want to comment on your thought about “abusing” the HP brand because… yeah, that’s true. Well, sort of. Because, for example, I still believe that HPHM wasn’t just about that at the very beginning. I do think that Matt London and his team created this story with some level of passion. Were they also hoping for easy money? Yeah, probably. But it seems that they cared about something more, too. Sadly, at this point, HPHM became what you’re describing: a half assed story with the cover of 'ohh spells and references'. And I hate to say it, but I also think that the fans are partially responsible for that.

I mean, I remember seeing people being like: “Oh I can’t wait when HPMA/HL comes out, so I can leave this shitty game (HPHM)”. And I was always like… You don’t HAVE TO play this game if you don’t enjoy it. I feel like this mentality was actually quite common at some point, especially on Reddit, at least when I was still checking it. But personally, I just don’t get it. You might still like HP without interacting with every single title in the franchise.

But that also brings me to your second thought: capitalism. Because honestly, it’s not just the problem of the HP brand. Let’s take The Sims, for example. People are complaining for years that TS4 is lacking even now when we have dozens of DLCs. There are many new bugs with each pack and many old bugs that needs to be fixed. But it doesn’t matter for EA because they know that people will still buy the next new pack. Why? Because of the brand. And because The Sims has no real competition, at least yet.

Another example: Apple. Personally, I don’t use Apple products so I won’t comment on their quality. But I remember when people talked about the new iPhone without a headphone jack. Again, I don’t know if it actually influenced the quality of a phone in a meaningful way, but it’s rather hard to not see it as a mechanism forcing people to buy wireless headphones. And again, Apple knows they can do that because people will still want to have the iPhone.

So, yeah. Capitalism.

And what a lovely segue to Eat Your Young it is!

Seriously, I love this song! I can’t help it but sway to it every time I hear it. Though I totally feel you – it is absolutely morbid! But it’s that clash that makes it so strong. By the way, my favourite part has to be:

Get some

Pull up the ladder when the flood comes

Throw enough rope until the legs have swung

Seven new ways that you can eat your young

Back in 2019, Hozier was performing on his tour one of his unreleased songs, But The Wages (which many suspects will be on the new full album). And in one video of this song, he said: “If you’re not making the right people uncomfortable you might be wasting your time as a musician”. I feel it’s basically gonna be a subtitle of Unreal Unearth.

And finally: YES, HIS ACCENT! 😄 I’d say I’m quite familiar with it as I listened to some interviews fairly recently (there was Blood Upon Snow not so long ago and now the new EP), but yes! The Irish accent is very lovely! :3

And I write Normal People down as another title to look into because I did hear about it, but I never paid more attention to it.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well, too! 💖

[shallowrambles]

SPNWin Ficlet: Echoes in your image

Dean fucked up time; Jack comes to save him from himself and quarantine the infected world

Dean doesn't look. Can't look.

The amulet has started to bounce in place, like the confused needle of a compass.

"Dean," the newcomer says, anguished.

The bull-man amulet glows so brightly that all the rear and side mirrors glimmer, casting kaleidoscope reflections off the interior cabin and leather seats.

"Jack," Dean whispers.

Jack is solemn, like a frozen lake. "I have to take you away from here."

No.

No way.

Dean throws his best grenade: "You of all people should let me save my mom."

It's a low blow, and Jack goes silent. When Dean finally looks up, Jack is staring into the impala vents, the faint rustle of AC stirring the long, windswept fringe of his hair.

He finally says: "She's not your mom."

Dean lets off the gas, and the impala slows, like a DeLorean running out of Plutonium.

"What do you mean by that," he answers, too evenly.

Jack looks a little less timeless as he twists the top of the seatbelt in his hands--a little less beatific, a little less unfeeling god. "It's like. There's entropy, Dean. A direction. You--you can't unscramble an egg."

Dean stiffens, because he isn't simply trying to unscramble an egg, not simply trying to save his mom. It's also about-- "What about Akrida? It's not supposed to be there, in 1972. I had to give John that letter. They're a threat to all of existence. All of it. When I saw them there, I had to step in."

Jack finally snaps: "But it's not your problem, Dean."

"Oh, so you don't think the Winchesters can handle it."

"No. I know the Winchesters can't handle it. You made it so much worse by trying to handle it, don't you get it?"

Dean cuts his eyes at the kid and stews. He wants to ask, "Who died and made you God?" but that'd be another incredibly low blow.

Jack rakes his hands through his hair--another too-human gesture. "You don't understand. That is John. That is Mary. But they're not your parents. Just being here, you're influencing everything. Every stroke, every connection that you influence echoes in your image Dean."

"You're saying this, what? Isn't even real? It's just another Heavenly hologram? That I'm God here?"

Jack huffs, looking frustrated, like he's barely holding back his own anger. "No, no, and no. It's very real. That's why I've been trying to catch you."

Jack stretches out his hands and traces his fingerpads over the vents, like the cool air can help cool his head. "When you look, the universe senses it. It turns against you, to shut it all down, like a self-destruct sequence. That's Akrida. Akrida happened because you were snooping around, trying to uncover things about your parents."

His eyes slide to Dean, heavy with meaning. "The act of observing, Dean. It's powerful. This is much bigger than you...or me."

///

Jack sighs again, looking more tired than Dean's ever seen him, like this God gig is a long stream of eighty-hour work weeks.

"Maybe it's my fault. Heaven was too...open, maybe. But I-I had to come here...to save you." He stares at Dean, like he cares too much, like he's heartbroken. "The only thing we can do now is--is quarantine this dimension and let it die. Lock the Akrida inside with it."

Dean thinks of young Mary's hopeful steps to reclaim her identity, and of John's twisted, fawn-like steps towards recovery. "You--you're saying we abandon them?"

"If there were any other way--"

It's whiplash. "So you're not gonna lift a friggin' God-finger to help."

Jack groans. "Dean. I'm saying I can't. We touch down there, and we don't have any power against anything. We're at the Akrida's mercy. And if they get out? It's everything. All of existence--not just 1972. It's 2023. It's 1734. It's all of it."

"Well," Dean grumbles, staring hard at the road. "You can quarantine me, too, then."

"Dean--"

"I'm not leaving them behind, Jack. Someone's gotta fight for 'em. I have to, especially if--if I brought this down on 'em."

Jack is quiet for a solid ten minutes. He's still fiddling with the unattached seatbelt. Dean considers shoving a cassette in the tape deck and cranking up the volume. Anything to fight the crushing, disappointing silence.

Finally, Dean can't take it anymore, and he breaks it. "So, what're you still doing here?"

Jack scowls at the road ahead, seeming to draw some kind of energy from Dean's stubbornness.

"Shit," Jack whispers, grasping the seatbelt and stretching it across his lap. With an echoing click, he fastens it. "I guess...I'm going with you. I'm not gonna be a-an absent God. Even if that means I stop being God."

Dean chances a look at the kid--sees his gray-blue eyes locked on the road ahead. Something about all of this turns his stomach, like the guilt is too much to acknowledge. This is about the last thing he'd expected to happen today--another domino in what is turning out to be a cosmic-sized mistake.

As they ease into the Lawrence city limits, circa 1972, Jack murmurs: "Know what Sam would say? This is a dumb idea in a laundry list of dumb ideas."

Heh. That's actually one of Dean's lines. He slips The Who into the tape deck, and Happy Jack roars to life. "Spoken like a true Winchester."