#Crossbones anime when

[what-even-is-thiss]

I feel like when it comes to the stardew valley spouses Sebastian would be the one I settle down with but Elliot is the one I think about at night.

He shines too brightly. He’s a little too loud. But he still makes my gay little heart jump the same way it did the first time. Every time.

But Sebastian is more stable. Sebastian loves you but can still have his own life separate from you. And he’s there. Quiet, but he’s there.

But Elliot alone in his cabin side eyes me every time I walk down to the beach. I meet his eyes a bit too long at festivals. We both know. We both know if one of us asked we would. But we won’t. It seems that he’s destined to be lonely and I am destined to be trapped. If not in my corporate job then there on that farm with that cozy safe husband and children, crops that need tending to, animals that need feeding.

Is anyone unhappy? No. Elliot has his modest success. He can live modestly off of his book sales. In time he grows old on that beach just as he feared, but it’s not so bad. He’s the town eccentric. He’s the local writer. He writes a new novel every year. A cheap little thing bought at an airport bookstore. A romance writer whose books are eaten and discarded within a week. And he’s happy.

And I sell my little artisan goods. Cheese and wine mostly these days. We put a little skull and crossbones on the wine bottles, just to be edgy. Just because we can. Children grow up in a stable and happy home with all the space in the world to run through the blueberry fields, their adoption papers framed on the wall, their slightly weird alternative dads taking them on motorcycle rides through the mountains. We’re quiet. We only get out on Fridays. Everyone knows us but we don’t hold hands at the store.

Elliot and I sit at the same table in the bar that Leah does. I know her slightly less than I know him. This town has become weirder. That’s good. We chat. Elliot is a messy drunk. Sometimes he gets a little too close to my face when he’s tipsy but he always stops himself. Everyone knows I wouldn’t stop him if he leaned in. Including my husband. We’ve never spoken about it but he’s not dumb. Everyone knows. Everyone also knows that nothing has happened. But it always could.

But Elliot doesn’t lean in. Maybe it’s the smell of dirt on me that breaks the image of me he has in his mind. Maybe it’s the public space. Maybe it’s Sebastian playing pool in the corner. Maybe if he was drunk in a private space everything would come apart. Both of our perfect on paper little lives.

Maybe if this were one of Elliot’s books we would run away together, abandon everything in the middle of the night. But neither of us would like that, really. Both of us are a one person at a time kind of guy. And we both know I made the right choice.

I still have dreams though. Of him and I on a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. He cannot contain himself and kisses me in a fit of passion. Like a vision from another universe where I’m just as happy as I am now. A parallel mirror world where I never climbed onto the back of that motorcycle and ran down the hill to the beach instead, where everything lasted for more than just that one summer.

[rorywritesjunk]

I won't treat you like you're oh so typical

Buggy wakes you up to help him with his makeup and he sometimes get grabby.

Rating: Soft R? Idk. Some swearing, and uh, innuendos. No sex. I plan to write sex at some point but I just wanted to keep this kind of fluffy for now.

Warnings: Insecure!Buggy because that's my anime husband right there, needing assurance while his lady does his makeup. Some swearing. Buggy is kind of a brat in this.

A/N: Inspired by the image of that woman sitting on top of another doing her makeup. The title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara. Part Two is here!

“You have got to stop moving, Buggy.” You warned as you held the eyeliner pencil near his eye. “Do you want to be known as Captain Buggy the One-Eyed Clown? Because that’s what’s going to happen if your hand grabs my ass again.”

“But baaaabe!” He whined underneath you. You sat up and crossed your arms as you looked down at him. Currently you had him laying underneath you on your shared bed while you straddled him to do his makeup. Barely twenty minutes ago he woke you up from a deep sleep, demanding you help him with your makeup. You were still in your damn pajamas as you sat on top of your silly boyfriend.

“Buggy.” You sighed. “I can’t get this done if you keep groping me.”

“I can’t help it!” Buggy pouted. “Why are you trying to seduce me while doing my makeup? I can’t control myself when you’re dressed like this!”

You rolled your eyes. This being your pajamas. Light green boxer shorts with bananas printed on them and a shirt you cut the sleeves off of. Of course he’d find that sexy. You held the pencil up threateningly. 

“Let me continue or this is going to take all day.” You told him as you leaned back down. He sighed and settled back down on the bed. While you managed to keep his arms pinned to his sides with your knees, his hands still could wander. You cursed his Devil Fruit powers when it came to situations like this. Sure, they were great for getting things off tall shelves or scratching your back when he was busy, but times like this you cursed it.

“Oh, what big plans do you have?” He asked as you worked the pencil around his eyes carefully. You didn’t respond at first, being careful not to jab him in the eye either on purpose or on accident. You sat up just enough to make sure the job was done well before you sat back up to grab the next bit of makeup. “Does it involve getting naked at any point with your fearsome Captain boyfriend?”

You gave him an unamused look as you grabbed a different pencil, the one you used to draw the skull on his forehead. “I was planning on going back to sleep because my silly Captain boyfriend woke me up to do his makeup and won’t stop trying to feel me up.”

He grinned cheekily at that as one of his hands did grab your ass, giving a sharp pinch to your left cheek. You yelped and reached back to swat at his hand before looking back at him. “Come on!”

“Stop seducing me then!” He whined. “Why do you have to be on top of me every time anyway?”

“Because… of the lighting, Buggy.” You told him as you lied through your teeth. This wasn’t the first time you’ve done his makeup like this. In the past you tried while he sat at his vanity, but found it hard to get the right lighting. Not to mention there was a mirror there and he could see everything you did. He made it a point to give a running commentary about what you were doing wrong and it drove you crazy. You finally gave up and had him lay down on the bed where you could see his face better and have better angles for his makeup. “And the shadows on your face throw me off when you sit down. If I do it this way, I can see your beautiful face more clearly..”

He fell silent as you called his face beautiful, and you noticed his cheeks were a little red. You smiled and kissed him on the forehead before you finished drawing the skull and crossbones. You looked down at him and grinned. So far the makeup wasn’t looking half bad. The last bit was applying the red lipstick. This was actually your favorite part because it was the easiest, and honestly, his lips were so soft to touch that every time you did apply his lipstick, you couldn’t help but kiss him afterwards. 

You grabbed his chin gently to keep his head still as you dabbed it over his lips carefully, making sure to apply it thick. He looked up at you as you did, taking notice how focused you were and how you even stuck your tongue out in concentration. It was… it was cute. He liked seeing you like that. He managed not to pout when you let go of his chin, but when he felt your thumbs on his lips, no doubt to smear the excess lipstick around his mouth, he couldn’t help but kiss at the pads of your thumbs. 

You smiled and cupped his head in your hands gently as you leaned down to kiss him. Fresh makeup on Buggy was always a glorious sight to see, because you knew in a few hours it would start to fade, smear, and look unkempt. You had the honor of seeing him first each day.

After a moment, you nipped at his bottom lip gently before you pulled back from the kiss. You reached up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, looking surprised to see so much red lipstick on it. You must have overdone this time. When you looked back at Buggy, however, you saw the look in his eyes and began to have regrets.

“Buggy…” 

He wasted no time pushing you on your back and rolling on top of you, forcing your legs apart as he grinned down at you. He reached up to touch your lips, dragging his thumb over them slowly, and when he pulled his hand back you could see there was still lipstick on you. You rarely wore makeup, not really enjoying it on yourself as much as you enjoyed seeing it on Buggy. He stared at your lips for a moment longer before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, working his way to your jawline and to your ear, humming in appreciation as he saw the red marks he was leaving. 

He pressed a kiss to your earlobe before whispering, “You really think I’m beautiful, or are you just saying that so I fuck you?”

Honestly, it caught you off guard. He was beautiful. Fuck, his eyes, hair, nose, everything about him was beautiful. His personality, at times, drove you crazy, and he knew that, but you also knew he still had insecurity about his looks and being a pirate and, well, everything. He was just insecure. You reached up and put your hands on his cheeks, smushing them forward and making his lips pucker; he was resembling a goofy fish at that moment.

“The most beautiful person I’ve ever known, Buggy.” You assured him as you pulled him down for a kiss, holding on for just a moment before pulling back and pressing your lips to his nose. You could feel him tense up, and you were proud of him for not pulling away. After letting go of his face, your hands removed his bandana and your fingers began combing through his hair. “Fearsome and flashy, Captain Buggy.” 

“That so?” He grinned, the moment seeming to pass now. “Tell me more then.”

“I’d love to.” You replied. “If you get off me and let me finish your damn makeup.”

[drconstellation]

Come Back When You Can Make A Whale

This is going to contain some speculation for S3, so you know what to do! Or not do!

SITIS: What did God say? JOB: Um... I'm not sure. I didn't understand much. Things too wonderful for me. Ostriches came into it. SITIS: Ostriches? JOB: And whales. God's very proud of the whale. Went into some detail about... how great whales are. SITIS: But did They explain? JOB: [shakes head] I think the point was, if you want answers, come back when you can make a whale.

Whales, huh?

If you aren't well read, this could be quite the misdirection. It should be reasonably obvious, given who is doing the talking - Job - what he is actually referring to, then we can join a couple of dots to make some speculative leaps.

You still with me?

No? Then let us start with how do you make a whale?

By giving it another name.

Leviathan.

Chapter 41 of the Book of Job is all about the Leviathan, a great sinuous sea serpent with impenetrable scales and breath like fire. It sleeps beneath the sea until the end of days. Over time it came to be associated with any sea monster, then anything large, and what is the largest animal ever known to have lived? The whale.

The top of the matchbox is also worth a look. We have a skull and crossbones, which is classic Memento mori symbolism, fitting in with the resurrection theme of the Second Coming - but look at the way the address of the pub is spelt! Now, this not the same way it is spelt on the record single Maggie gives to Aziraphale; Goatgate is spelt as one word, not two. A little bit of searching reveals the meaning behind this fictional address that backs up and reinforces the quote on the side of the matchbox.

Strong's Concordance for 66 gives us "wild, savage, fierce." Goatgate is an interesting one, because it turns out to be a relatively modern term from the urban dictionary, and I'm just going to refer to the polite version of it here - it's another word for "mouth." So 66 Goatgate is a "fierce and savage mouth." Yes, that does sound about right - in more ways than one, once you know who it is. (If you want to look up the impolite version, go ahead - I'm sure you will still find the connotations very amusing.)

Our metaphorical Leviathan is Crowley. He gave the game away at the end of S1 during the appearance-swap.

This also means Aziraphale is his counterpart, Behemoth. Why - well, I made a bit of joke in my post here that he was playing at being a "river horse" while he wallowed in the bath of holy water during his part of the appearance-swap scene. Modern day scholars think the description of Behemoth in the Bible may be that of a hippopotamus in real life history. If that is so, I'd still be betting this is what the "dark horse" comment from Nina in S2E1 is foreshadowing.

Maybe none of this new to you if you've been hanging around the the fandom for a while. That's fine, I'm just trying to establish the scene. And the next bit we need to talk about is this one, where Job gets a lecture from God.

During this sequence, we hear lines that come from Job 38 and 39.

GOD: Job, if you have questions for me, I have questions for you. Do you know how I created the earth? Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth, Job? Were you there when all the morning stars sang together and all the Angels shouted for joy?

These lines are paraphrasing some of the beginning of Job 38.

Then we have:

GOD: Do you know the rules of the heavens? Did you set the constellations in the sky? Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you? Did you give wings to peacocks, Job, or teach the ostrich to run?

These lines are again, paraphrasing Job, half from 38 and half from 39.

So then, we need to ask, why highlight these lines in particular?

Job 38 is mainly about setting the boundaries of the universe around us. The Earth might seem impossibly huge to a human, but it started with a single stone at its foundation. Earth and the other planets obey certain laws as they move around the Sun. The patterns of the stars in the sky take so long to change that it seems like they are set and inconstant. Even the chaotic form of lightning respects its Creator and returns to its point of origin.

From the last part of Chapter 38 to the end of 39 God challenges Job with a list of animals. The theme here is about freedom and wildness. Whether it is a noble lion, a loathsome crow, a nimble mountain goat, the head-strong wild ox or the willing war horse, they all flourish upon the Earth under the sight of the Almighty. Even the mightiest and most fierce beasts of all, Behemoth and Leviathan, have a place, although only God has the means to control those two.

None of this needs a human to be involved. We are so often the center of our own universe, and try so hard to control every aspect of the world around us that we lose sight of the bigger picture. Shit happens. Some things are out of our control. That doesn't mean its your fault and you're wicked and damned to go to Hell because of it. And that was the point God was trying to make to Job. The world is a far bigger, wilder and chaotic than you can imagine, but its also incredibly beautiful, and it runs itself within the rules and limits that seem to be set by invisible forces you can't see.

So back to the script from the show.

The first set of questions from God could apply to both of the duo. They were both around when Earth was created and were more than likely there when the "morning stars" (the highest angels, such as Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael and angel!Beelzebub) sang together.

The second set of questions are the ones that seem to have got the most attention so far, with ops cross-matching them to things Crowley does in S2.

Do you know the rules of the heavens?

Did you set the constellations in the sky?

Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you?

Did you give wings to peacocks, Job...

(I make a suggestion this has something to do with Michael, but also see comments below)

...or teach the ostrich to run?

The first three of those questions are fairly straight forward, and I doubt many would dispute what they are referring to. But the reference to the peacock and the ostrich are more subtle and curious, and I would like to take a moment to look at the actual verse - because it is only one verse that is providing both questions - that is being paraphrased here.

Job 39:13 Gavest thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers unto the ostrich?

Did you realize that the King James Version of the Bible is the only one that mentions peacocks in this particular verse? All the other versions mentions the first sentence of that verse in relation to the wings of ostriches: "The wings of the ostrich wave proudly." The ostrich is considered a cruel and witless bird in the Bible, pleased with the way it looks, and seemingly careless about its young.

Why does that sound familiar...

Shax thinks this ostrich feather-clad angel in disguise isn't too smart either.

So using the peacock line is a curious choice in the script. Other than the "eyes" in the tail of the peacock having a connection to Michael's many watchful eyes on the world, it's still not clear how Crowley helped them upwards. Unless both lines are supposed to refer to Gabriel, and how the vain peacock was helped to both fly and run to a distant location in the stars.

Edit: Since I first wrote this, @beebopboom pointed me to some more peacock lore, and this helped me delve a bit deeper into them. Peacocks were associated with wealth and royalty, but they were also associated with immortality in early Christian beliefs. There was a belief that the flesh of the peacock did not decay after its death. The bright colours in its tail came from its eating venomous snakes, which reminded people of Christ becoming sin for humanity's sake (think of Crowley downing the laudanum to save Elspeth from Hell in the crypt in 1827, its a similar action.) The "eyes" on the males tail also represented the all-seeing eye of God. So we have a connection with both royalty and resurrection here.

(Oh - just as an interesting connection here - a number of the newer versions of the Bible not only don't mention the peacock in this verse, they compare the ostrich to the stork! The meaning is meant to be that the stork cares more for their young than the ostrich, but if you read the words at face value, you could take a double meaning away...)

Let us return to questions, answers, and whales.

Questions. Always questions. It's like the proverbial toddler who's always asking a never-ending string of "but, why?" for funsies and you just want them to shut up for a moment and think about the last thing you said first. They, too, are a bit like Job. They are the center of their own universe at that age, having not had much experience of the world. They have no grasp of how far it extends beyond them, and how little even we as adults know.

If at this point you're going "oh, no, no, no, no, op, please don't tell me the point of this meta is it's all ineffable," relax. I'm not.

The point was to set you up for some nice, juicy, awesomely sweet S3 speculation.

Because I believe Crowley will finally get to ask his questions of God.

(oh lordy, I made the mistake of taking a break to have a shower before trying to finish this off, because I was having trouble seeing how to finish this in a tidy way, and that caused me to have "shower thoughts" and now the nice sweet simple speculation has turned into a slightly bat-shit crazy kind-of one, although still on the same track as what I was originally thinking. Here goes...)

We have this three card spread from waaay back at the beginning of S1. We all think its something to do with the three babies.

What if its not?

Because we need something like this to happen again - Aziraphale and Crowley either side of a third protagonist. What if it's the King of Kings, Love personified, Jesus, in the middle? (Or Adam again, I wouldn't discount that option either...)

If you would look at the GIF and the screenshot together again and go, well that makes, sense, white for the angel on the right, and green for the demon on the left, I would jump up and shout at you - NO!

Look at the cards again! In the Tarot, that's the Ace of Swords on the right - it belongs to Aziraphale. It's a very powerful card, about new beginnings and change.* Lets call the one of the left Knight of Wands, which also represents the element of Fire. Knights are all about movement and journeys. Who owns the Bentley? And look what Gabriel has instinctively done with his hands - he has held his screen-left hand out to Aziraphale, the Sword, the angel who wears green, and his right hand out to Crowley, the Knight of Fire. The yin and yang qualities are actually swapped. That was what I was trying to tell you in this post. They aren't as obvious as they seem at first glance.

And love is the answer, it turns out. Did you see my comment the other day on another post? In Strong's Concordance 25 = to love.

Anyway, we should get a third parallel scene somewhat like this, and like when Aziraphale and Crowley took Adam out of time to talk to him in S1.

Only this time the three of them (with who ever is in the middle) should be having a talk with God about what is or isn't supposed to happen.

JOB: I think the point was, if you want answers, come back when you can make a whale.

Crowley could be a literal serpent (though I would be very surprised if he did manifest that way) but it should be a metaphorical Leviathan that stands before the Almighty to ask his questions and get his answers. And it will be that he has earned the right to be there, because he finally understands the lessons of Job.

@makewayforbigcrossducks I hope this answers one of your questions

*The Ace of Swords speaks of new beginnings, but it is a two-edged sword that can cut both ways. It is strength in adversity, victory out of struggle, good out of evil, a change in the old order on the way.

[sloooowong]

I like sans.

And here's the [comic-sans-squad] that made me burst out of laugh!!!!!!

I REALLY like them!!!

Even though they also have some issues in their mind,

they are still so funny and,,,,,, somewhat,,,,, hot.....!!!!!!

(I like when sans is depicted as older....

.....as a mature, responsible bro/sis with a great sense of humor

.........those are who i like.........)

1. Sans from undertale

I really like him.

Whenever i explore the internet,

i can easily meet him as a meme lord or something... XD

also, he is really cool & funny!!

2. Comic from under(her)tail

Seriously? Yes. She is adorable & C U T E.

And also really a cool sis that really makes me laugh!!!

Really, impressed....♡

I LOVE HER

3. Crossbones from ts!underswap

How can you resist the temptation to be a big fan of this great hero?

I couldn't.

Crossbones!!! The Starlight Savior!!! (*Loud noisy screaming)

4. Sans from Reversetale

Why isn't there any translation for this AU??? (It is written in Korean.)

If you want,

and if you have the determination to use a translator to read this AU,

*Here's the link: https://posty.pe/ponwdw

It is completed, and not only sans, but also all the main characters of undertale are appearing in this AU!!!!

Actually, my favorites from this AU are dreemurr families....

yes, all of them are really GOAT in this AU.........

If you are interested, please give a shot.

Really, this AU is really amazing and listed in one of my favorite AUs!

5. Lt.sans from Inverted fate

The best date ever.

The one who made this....would be definitely a genius.

Or a really amazing OTAKU who likes anime so much! XD

6. sans from Gigachadsans or Undertale wrestling

all that....gigacahadsans muscular sans just makes me burst out laugh!!!! LOL

I.....I can't resist........!!!!!XD

Every time I see those muscluar skeletons, I just can't stop smiling!

I really really like them.

kekekekeh XD

[not-wholly-unheroic]

A Comparative Analysis of Hook's Ship and Cabin in Popular Media Portrayals

They say a man's home is his castle, and that is perhaps more true for Captain James Hook than most. Amid all the wildness and chaos of Neverland, the ship (and particularly the captain's cabin) is the one space where Hook exerts any real control over his environment, and upon close inspection, it reveals a great deal about who he is, what motivates him, his time period, and perhaps even whether or not any given "Hook" is intended to be "real" or a figure of the children's imagination. In this series of posts, I will be examining the Jolly Roger in five of the most well-known adaptations of Peter Pan: Disney's 1953 animated classic, Fox's Peter Pan & the Pirates (1990), Spielberg's Hook (1991), P.J. Hogan's Peter Pan (2003), and Disney's recent live-action remake, Peter Pan & Wendy (2023).

Part 1: Disney’s 1953 Animated Film

The Jolly Roger herself in the ‘53 film appears to be a Spanish galleon. This type of ship, though perhaps the “stereotypical” pirate ship that immediately comes to mind when we think of pirates in film, would have been highly impractical for any actual pirate. A good pirate ship needed to be sleek and fast, whereas galleons were great for carrying a lot of goods but unfortunately also very slow…and a large target for an enemy attack. Still, Hook has a tendency to prefer aesthetic beauty over function, so perhaps we can merely chalk this part up to the captain’s personal tastes.

On the other hand, Disney Hook has a ship that pretty blatantly screams “pirate” to anyone who might see it coming between the skull and crossbones you can see carved into the woodwork and the skull figurehead…which is definitely something that would seem more at home in a child’s imagined version of a pirate ship than any actual vessel.

For all the fancy, over-the-top outward style of the Jolly Roger in the ‘53 film, Hook’s cabin is surprisingly modest. His bed, which can be seen in the background during the “sick scene” post-Skull Rock, is the standard sort you might expect on a ship—a small bunk built into the side of the ship for practical reasons. There are, of course, chests of treasure (less practical/realistic) too, but aside from that, the cabin space seems nice but not excessive. We can see a sword lying against one of the treasure chests as well as a gun rack near the door over what looks like a large globe. (We see a closer, brighter version of this gun rack a few scenes later as the captain is switching out his usual hook for a golden one.)

There appear to be some nice silver plates in the background of the image with Smee, and there are a few other frivolities that Hook allows himself, such as the piano, a small table with fruit and wine set out, and several nice rugs on the cabin floor. But his desk appears to be rather small and simple, cluttered only with maps of Neverland, pens and an inkwell, some useful measuring tools, a few books, and what would appear to be a jeweled set of binoculars.

Overall, Disney’s Hook does a nice job of balancing the luxurious and fanciful with the more practical and mundane in his personal space. It might be a stretch to imagine this Jolly Roger in the real-life Golden Age of Piracy, but it’s not totally out of place. Thus, Disney’s Hook straddles that line between reality and fiction that leaves us wondering—as Wendy and her parents do at the end of the film as they watch a cloud formation that looks remarkably like a ship pass in front of the moon—whether it was all a dream or perhaps there is more to it.

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Two

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: dark themes surrounding history of domestic violence, references to physical injury, heavy emotions (hope can also be heavy)

a/n: all i have to say is thank you for reading, and i'd love to hear what you think

......................................

Oh, come child

In a cross bones style

Oh, come child

Come rescue me

'Cause you have seen some

Unbelievable things

Crossbones Style by Cat Power

.....................................

Not comfort. Not exactly ease either. Familiarity maybe. Both of them settling into a routine configured around the other. She likes to help with the animals whenever she can, getting up as early as him, no task too daunting or dragging for her to say no to it. Just the other day she helped him trim back the sheep’s hooves, not even flinching when one of the girls tried to give a jerky kick underneath their ministrations, all shush and soothe in her flicking ears as Joel got the job done. She understands flight and freeze like that, at least in the animals. 

They get done what chores they can in the morning before she has to get changed for work, the requisite light blue dress with the buttons down the front, an apron snug around her waist. She had made a joke about the fucking fifties the first time he saw her in her uniform, surprising him with the quick, crass humor, her half-grin as she got into the passenger seat of his truck. 

He drops her off, heads into town or to the station, whatever needs to be done, and usually is done around lunchtime. He’s supposed to be watching his cholesterol, admonished by the one doctor in town two years in a row now. So he orders a salad with a sigh when he stops into the diner around noon, though Dolores will often tuck a few fries onto the side of his plate, a quiet smile when she sets it down in front of him. Maybe he’s been leaving bigger tips than is appropriate, maybe he made sure that the money in the jar on the counter would be going to her at the end of the day, a quiet conversation with Sal while she was in the back of the kitchen. 

He lingers. Always an endless to-do at home, ignored in this instant, stealing a little extra time sitting at the counter, watching her flit and flicker around the regulars. She’s good with people, big, bright smiles that don’t quite round her eyes, laughs light as air, and as empty too. And he sees the quick slump of her shoulders when the customers aren’t looking, when she’s passing through the swinging door to the kitchen. Turn it on and turn it off. 

But there’s someone new eating lunch at the diner today. One of those climber-backpacker types, all wired-down, tan muscle against shock-white teeth, flicking back his sun-bleached flop of hair, putting on a real show for her when she drops off his burger at his booth. It’d be rude to just keep looking, to turn around on his stool and stare the man down, so he listens instead. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. Can I ask you something?” Like something small and slight being held in a fist, close to breaking or bursting, a cracked chirp of her answer, clearly flustered when she says um, yes, yeah. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a town like this?” That same sound, like she’s trying to make a laugh happen, though it comes out more like a held breath that finally gasps into an exhale. 

“That’s kind of you, but I need to get back to work, excuse me.” 

“Oh come on, where’s that midwestern hospitality you all seem to have?” 

“Do you– can I get you anything else?”

“How about a smile, sweetheart? Just a little one, for me?” For a moment, it’s silent. Joel curls his fingers in a fist, over and over, flex and extend, his back still turned. Something hot and tight closes up in his throat when he hears the man sigh, and then laugh.

“There you go, prettiest thing I’ve seen since I left Denver. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m climbing this afternoon, sweets, thank you for that.” 

“Shouldn’t be climbing in the afternoon.” He says it before he can stop himself, turning around on his stool, a thick flare of hate, maybe meanness, when he sees the uncertain curl of her shoulders and the slanted smile on the man’s face. 

“Excuse me?” The man slings one arm over the back of his booth, body splaying and slumping toward Joel, trying to take up more space than he’s worth. A little bit of preening, a little bit of plumage.

“You’re likely to get yourself caught in a storm up in the mountains this time of year. I’m surprised such an expert man like yourself didn’t know that.” Arrogant, artifice, the man grins, eyes swooping back over Dolores as he picks up his burger with one hand, a wolfish bite that he tucks into the side of his mouth, the slow roll of his jaw as he focuses back on Joel. 

“I don’t mind trying my luck. I usually come out on top. But thanks for the tip, pal, appreciate it.” He takes one more bite, half of his burger gone in two gnashing mouthfuls, all bright white teeth. With that, a quick clap of his hands together, fast heat rubbed between his palms, he pulls out a wad of cash from the front of his pack, leaving a crumpled fistful on the table before he stands with a sigh. 

“Better head out. Thank you for the smile, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember that.” He tucks a smaller fold of bills into the pocket on the front of Dolores’ apron, and Joel can see the way her stomach tenses, curling back from the suggestion of touch. The word no flashes big and battering in Joel’s mind, though there’s nothing to be done, the man already shouldering his pack and sending a slippery slide of a smile his way before he’s swaggering hips-first out the door. 

“You alright?” She doesn’t quite meet his eyes, even when he ducks his head down to try to catch her beneath her lashes. All he gets is a nod and a pointed sniff, and then she sets herself back into motion, ducking into the kitchen to pick up someone else’s order.

Dolores doesn’t like men, something he learned pretty quickly about her. The first time, when they went to the drugstore together and she wilted like a wan flower under Rod’s friendly conversation, that same curling up of her shoulders, that same drop to her eyes. It happened again when she met John one day at the small grocery store in town. She had been smiling, an easy conversation about palisade peaches being in season, quick to fall and fade when Joel introduced her to the man. Even John, with the disposition of a feckless golden retriever, had gotten that same reaction out of her. 

She tolerates the customers at the diner, lots of nervous laughter and quick movement, her sneakers squeaking hard on the chipped linoleum floor. Warm with the few children in town, the women too. But no, she doesn’t like men. All uncertain angles, folding herself up close and tight and away. Honestly, it’s a small miracle she’s softened that snap, that shrink-back around Joel. Comfort in the known, he supposes. He’ll take it. 

“Hey, you alright?” Again, he catches her on her way to another table, a quick flicker of her eyes and a nod, shrugging the trays held in her arms a little closer, already moving again. Softened, but still there, cagey, careful, and now coaxed up to a higher degree by that man, that fucking man. 

Joel leaves soon after, not wanting to corner or crowd her. Back to routine. Back to the barn and the coop and the animals and all the things that must be done around them. Fall inches ever closer, a time that demands preparation. Work that promises completion and satisfaction when done well and right. Not easy, but simple. Maybe he’s careful to keep an eye on his watch, timing his drive back to the diner right before dinner, just as Dolores is stepping out of the storefront, her face furrowed down to the bills she’s counting in her hands. 

“What’s this?” His turn to drop his brow when she gets into the passenger seat and holds out a thick fold of money to him across the console.

“This should cover the clothes, and that drugstore trip you made for me.” He stares at the money, his fingers curling tighter over the steering wheel. That was two weeks ago, nearly three now, and she’s already trying to make even. 

“You don’t– I’m not keeping score. That’s yours.” Fast fall, flustered, a stuttered exhale, not what she expected, not what she wanted, her hand staying suspended between them, shaking the money lightly as if to entice him into taking it.

“But, I can’t. I–” What he’d like to do is reach out too, curl his hand over hers to close her fingers around that money, make it all hers. But she doesn’t like touch, even the accidental kind, something else he has learned. That quick tightness, that smalling if he brushes behind her in the kitchen in the morning, so he doesn’t. If their hands reach for the radio in the car at the same time, little fire passed between fingertips, and then her immediate recoil, so he doesn’t. And he doesn’t now either.

“You don’t have to. I was happy to, no score. That’s your money, Dolores.” Like she just swallowed something bitter, her face scrunching and then slackening as she nods, careful and quiet in settling her hand, and her money, back in her lap. 

“Could I at least help with groceries?” A small compromise, for her to look at him again, if for nothing else. 

“Okay.”

Here is what makes a town. Two blocks proper, a church at one end and a bar at the other. A second hand shop that sits slumped against the post office. A library that gets new books once every two years. A restaurant, the only other one besides the diner, the downstairs of a newly-established bed and breakfast that most of the residents have turned their noses up at. A police station that sits next to the simple steeple of the church, how fitting. And a grocery store, a small one, the nearest safeway a two-hour drive east. Joel had to look up what an IGA was when he first moved here. 

And because everyone knows everyone, a trip to the grocery is never in and out, always getting stopped in the produce aisle, asked after while picking up a gallon of milk. Today, no different. 

“Hey there, you two. Can I expect to see you at the little thing at the bar tonight?” The little thing Patty is referring to is the fact that it’s the end of the month. A peculiar tradition, not a party, just an agreed-upon herding of one another. Joel has thought to himself on multiple occasions that its real purpose is to make sure no one quietly died while people weren’t paying attention, a once-a-month census.

“I don’t know, Patty, maybe I’ll drop by, keep folks from talking too much.” Dolores’ confusion is clear, searching between him and Patty. Why he’s trying to keep this from her, he’s unsure.

“Well, I hope to see the both of you there.” Patty is a particular kind of woman. Here long enough for her word to have some power behind it. She lives above the secondhand shop alone, though Joel knows she has two sons, shown pictures of them, arms slung across her shoulders, that same slanted smile of hers on both of their faces. They don’t visit. And Patty doesn’t seem sad for it. She orders a specific kind of red hair dye once a month, Joel always seeming to catch her at the post office picking up the box with a distinct logo stamped on its side. Nice enough, a little brash maybe, but she’s always been open-armed with him. And she’s been kind to Dolores too. No questions, at least not to her, no staring or stirring, like it makes the most sense in the world that Joel suddenly has a woman staying with him that he has never mentioned before. So she doesn’t press now, leaves it at that, leaves them to the produce aisle, an easy greeting and goodbye. 

“Are you gonna go?” Her hands are deft and discerning, cracking open and peeling back a pale green corn husk, a hoard of it on sale this year, fine silk tassels and that sweet, crisp, smell. 

“Oh, probably not.” He holds open the produce bag for her, a quiet yeah when she asks if four ears is enough. 

“I would go, you know, if you wanted to.”

“Do you want to?” She shrugs, the slight swing of the hem of her dress as she walks alongside him, zucchini and tomatoes.

“Patty seems like the kind of person who’s used to getting her way.” She doesn’t say it mean, only observation as she tucks two tomatoes down in the cart. He can feel a smile threatening at the corners of his mouth.

“She certainly doesn’t like the word no. We could stop by, if that’s alright with you?” 

It is alright, and after dinner, summer spoils sweet and sated, he waits for her on the porch while she changes out of her uniform. It’s getting darker earlier, the sun already cracking and dripping between the mountains, everything hushing down orange and purple. Soon, it will be time for the sheep to spend their nights in the barn, and in the day too, during that deepest, tightest fist of winter. But for now, it’s quiet, save for the dull thrum of all the small, crawling things, air that’s only a relief in its coolness, not a worry. 

“Ready?” Pretty, he thinks. Hasn’t seen that before, he thinks. Crisp white with fine little flowers embroidered along the neckline and the sleeves. The neckline, a new expanse of her sternum on display, the fragile flutter of it when he stares just a beat too long. 

“Uh-huh, yeah.” Ready, dark enough that the headlights need to be flicked on, flooding yellow down the bare brush and scrub along the road. And then the bleeding neon glow of the bar on the edge of town coming into focus. 

Shoes sticking in the syrupy grime of a few decades past, dim lights and a perpetual haze of smoke, something sad and slow drifting in on the jukebox. No pretense, no pretending that folks are here for anything other than getting a little drunk at the end of another day. 

Patty is happy to see the both of them, offering a bottle that Joel accepts, and one that Dolores politely declines, though she still allows herself to be pulled along by the older woman, leaving Joel to make his rounds. The same questions, asked and answered, health and hearth and how are you. Fine, just fine. Except, a little distracted, quick glances over to the bar where Dolores is sitting. Patty still there with her, still getting her to smile, so fine, just fine until the next time he looks over.

Not Patty. Him. Big, bright shark tooth smile, fang and flare. Even more tan, skin tight and taut against quick-jumping muscle, all pumped and puffed out from his afternoon climb. A wiry arm slung around the back of Dolores’ chair, her whole body slanted and steeled toward the side as he leans in, lips pulled back in a sneer of a smile. 

Whoever Joel was talking to, he’s no longer listening, no longer even feigning interest as he watches, trying to piece together whatever that man is saying to her by the way his jaw pulls with each of his words. Waiting, really, for any excuse to step in, to make this wrong right. 

And then, enough, already in motion as he watches the man reach out, the backs of his knuckles brushing against her clavicle before she can jerk away. Gotcha, got you, gonna get you. All the ways the human body can recoil, say no, and all the ways it can refuse to listen.

He doesn’t catch the end of whatever the man is saying, words coming out on a quick bark of laughter that makes Dolores flinch harder, knuckles all curled up in her lap. He doesn’t care to know, a thick wash of no drowning it out. The thing is, Joel can get big, and loud, and mean, so mean. If he needs to. He can roll back his shoulders and set his jaw in a hard grind. He can make a fist and then make contact. He can make a man get small and get gone. But not in front of her. Another body to account for, a shivering down small body, a body that cannot bear any more violence. So he must settle for something else, a quiet heat, an expression on his face that he hopes is no enough.

“Is there a problem?” The man glances over his shoulder, all smile, all teeth.

“Hey, pal. No problem here. I was just telling this pretty thing about the climb I got in, wasn’t I?” He asks it with a duck of his head, trying to steal her gaze that she keeps on her hands in her lap. A habit of hers, the skin around her nails picked and pulled raw, soon to bleed with the way she’s worrying at them now. 

“I don’t think she’d like to hear any more of what you have to say, pal.” A flicker of something animal, the man sucks his teeth, mouth screwed to the side before he sighs. Fire needs fuel, and he’s not getting any, certainly not from her. Something that sounds like not worth it as he sways himself out of the bar. Joel knows this kind well, blown in and out in a day, maybe two. Not a problem, not really, and he won’t let it become one. 

“Thank you.” She gives Joel her eyes, a quick nod as he sits down beside her. Careful distance kept between them, space for her to spread back out, to unfurl, and she does, leaning back in her chair, a quick roll of her shoulders like she’s trying to shake off that shiver.

“I have no patience for people like that. Think they’re hot shit for hiking up a mountain when they’re just a nuisance.” Maybe he said too much, tempering his words with a swig of his beer, though Dolores seems to receive it, turning slightly toward him so he can feel the ghost of her knee brush against his.

“I just don’t like men like that.” He sighs, because what could he say to that? What hasn’t already been said in the slow fade of the bruises on her arms? 

“Drink?”

“Yeah, please.” 

It’s quiet between them for a while, each nursing a beer as the din around them lulls and lifts. He drums his fingers against his thigh, something steady while he tries to work a thick flood of words into something that might make sense, something that won’t make her recoil. 

“Can I ask you about it?” She doesn’t look at him, focused on her thumbnail working the sticker off her bottle. But she does nod, lips pursed, long sigh like she needs to make room for what she’s about to say.

“All of it?”

“If you’re okay with that, yes.”

Yes, she’s okay with that. No, her husband wasn’t always the way he is now. He was kind until he wasn’t. Quiet until he wasn’t. The first time, silly. That’s what she calls it. A silly, stupid thing. The windshield of his car had gotten chipped while she was driving it. And she saw black with the way his hand guided her skull into the wall of their bedroom when she got home. Silly, she says, a wave of her palm like, no big deal, because not the worst of it. His stomach slurs and sickens. 

She was a teacher, her lips curling around the memory like it tastes sweet. And then he told her to stop working. Command, not question. Gave her a careful fold of money each morning, like a child’s allowance, like a leash choked close and tight. What friends she had left told her to leave him, lovely sentiment, with what money? With what, with what, with what?

And then he got a gun. Waved it around like a second dick. A strange swagger, what the weight of such perfect destruction does in a man’s palms, slung on his hip, never far. 

“Did he?”

“Once, right here.” Two fingers pressed to her temple, her eyes unblinking, expressionless. Though it’s gone just as quick, her fingers flexing and curling into a quick fist before settling back in her lap, unmaking memory. 

She left then. With what, with what, with what? Nothing. A book in the passenger seat and a vague conception of the west meaning something like hope.

“You like to read?” Anything else will come out too harsh, too big with anger, so that will have to do. She seems relieved for it, shoulders settling and smoothing.

“Yes, I do.” 

“We can get you a library card, if you want.” 

“I’d like that.” 

…

They go to the library the next day, and the man who works there just seems happy that there’s anyone new to give a library card to in the first place. 

Dolores has already begun reading the first book in the small stack she checked out, quiet in the passenger seat the whole drive home. And later, when he leaves for his overnight shift, she’s on the couch, already halfway finished, lips parted and moving with the page. 

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” Still startled by his voice, quick to shut her book and look at him, and like so many other times, he wishes he hadn’t said anything, had let her stay suspended in that ease.

“Alright, thank you again.” He’s still not very good at accepting that from her, a nod and a shrug of his shoulders, out the door. 

Lately, these shifts have gotten tinged sour. Something anxious, something angry. Waiting, maybe. Willing. Wanting that car to come zipping past him on the black strip of the interstate. Wanting to chase it down. Wanting to do something that he shouldn’t want to do. He’ll come, he thinks. They always do. Men like that won’t give up the thing that makes them feel big so easily. 

For now, Joel hunkers down in the car, radio off, quiet, waiting with all the other languoring animals for something that will sate. He replays what she told him in his mind, lets something dark curl around it, poison thoughts. But he has to ask himself why. All this care, all this concern, and all this anger, why? For a perfect stranger, who’s not really a stranger now. Been living around each other for nearly a month, so no, not a stranger anymore. 

He likes her. An answer both simple and devastating at the same time. And is he just as bad as any other man? Finding a scared thing so very pretty. No, he cannot like her like that. He cannot like her like watching the rise and fall of her sternum, and he cannot like her like stealing glances of her every chance he can get. Because that is the last thing she needs. But care is allowed. Making something wrong the smallest bit right is allowed. A friend, a familiar thing, a comfort. All things he can do for her. 

…

The sun is just starting to heft its golden belly over the mountains when he gets home, pale blue light and mist rising cool and shy in the brush. Usually, at this hour, she will already be up, making breakfast for the both of them that he always feels a bit bashful accepting. 

But it’s quiet in the house this morning, still. Her book rests on one side of the couch, a rumpled blanket beside it. He doesn’t hear the old pipes groaning with the task of running water, the floorboards crackling with the fact of shuffling feet. And he shouldn’t but he does. Panic like a tight fist, like a heavy stone in his gut. 

He knocks on her bedroom door, a quiet call of her name. Nothing. And he shouldn’t, but he does. So careful, so quiet in cracking open the door. Nothing. Bed still made, untouched. She must have spent the whole night on the couch. Why does that make his heart kick and quicken in his chest? The thought of her reading right through the darkness, the singular glow of the lamp tendriling out into the night. 

Not here though. Did she? Could she? Would she? He feels drunk off this reality. But scared things have always been known to flee, haven’t they? To pretend at fragile trust until they find an opportunity to escape. Did she feel like she needed to escape from him? His palm tries to rub that thought out of his chest, real ache, real pain at the idea. 

Fresh air, because his skull is already starting to throb with this. He steps out onto the porch and tries to imagine all the ways this leaving could have been done. He hates every possibility, every phantom flight that he can conjure. But no time to let it sting or steep, because laughter, a sudden, foreign peel of it. Hers, he’s never heard hers before. But there she is, rounding the corner of the coop, a few of the chickens following close on her heels, already their favorite between the two of them. And she’s talking to them, quiet murmurings from behind a smile, another quick burst of brightness. 

“Hey, good morning.” Saying it to him, smiling at him, the biggest, best relief. He joins her, only a little grumble at the way the chickens squawk at his sudden intrusion. 

“You figure out names for them yet?” One eye dropped in a squint in the brash wash of morning light, still smiling.

“I have some ideas, yeah.” 

She’s here, how wonderful. And how awful, how quickly his heart seized and shuttered itself up at the thought of anything else. He can’t think about that too much, what that means. What danger that creates and threads through his ribs. So he focuses instead on breakfast, close in the kitchen, coffee for her with cream and a spoon of sugar, how he has found she likes it, silent sliding it across the counter to her where she’s stirring eggs in the pan. Always a thank you. 

The table in the kitchen is so small that he has to keep his chair scraped back so his knees won’t brush against hers, making space for her to spread out. 

“Thank you, for letting me stay so long. I know it’s not– you’re probably–” She stops herself, a sigh, chin tucked down. He could almost laugh, because here she is thanking him for what he was so afraid she didn’t want. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you’re here, for as long as you’d like to be.” Trying to make it clear that this is not a cage, though the words still feel thick and foolish coming out. She swallows a careful bite of her breakfast, not looking at him, and again, he finds himself bracing for flight.

“I like being here.” 

....................................

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[adobe-outdesign]

Please review Koffing and Weezing (Galarian form included) if you haven't already! :)

Koffing is a pretty neat concept. It's similar to the Grimer line in that it's kind of pollution personified, but instead of being more slime and sewage-like, Koffing is based off of poisonous gasses. It's more or less just a balloon that can kill you, but unfortunately the semi-transparent, inflatable skin is completely lost in basically all of its art and animations, making it look more like a floating boulder. Still, it's a decent, straightforward concept.

Visually it's also pretty neat; the simple round body has some of that nice Gen 1 organic-ness with the craters everywhere, and the fans are an unexpected but welcome addition. The skull-and-crossbones on the body is a little blunt, but it works, mostly because they managed to render it in a way where it's still believable as just a set of markings.

Weezing almost falls into the "just multiply it" trap of Gen 1, but thankfully it manages to be more unique than that. First, the faces have changed to have some big ol' brows and larger fangs along with flat upper teeth. The lip is also more defined, and the markings have gotten bigger.

More importantly, however, is that the second head is fused directly with the main body. This makes sense for two gaseous creatures, and gives it an extra deformed look, especially with the third "joint" in the back. The second head is also different from the first, having only a ring instead of a full skull and one set of upper fangs, which keeps it from feeling like the same creature that's been copied and pasted.

In Galar, regular Koffing evolves directly into Galarian Weezing here. It does feel a little abrupt, but at the same time a G. Koffing probably would've been a repeat of the same elements, so it's not exactly a big deal to not even bother.

G. Weezing plays with the original pollution concept by giving them top hats and mustaches resembling that of Victorian-era oil and coal tycoons. The top hats then double as smoke stacks (the creators have also said they're based on steam engines, though I don't personally get that as much), allowing polluted air to be taken in, purified, and released out the top. The palette is also different, swapping out purple for steel-like dark grey with green accents (for the polluted air) and white (for the clean air). This gives the design some good contrast and makes it pop a little more than the original.

For the most part this is a pretty decent idea that makes sense for the region, giving the thick smog that's blanked areas like London in the past, and ties back into the original Pokemon nicely. However, I do think it's maybe a little too on-the-nose? Like I said, the skull-and-crossbones thing works because it was integrated in a way that feels natural, and these designs don't as much. Maybe if the mustaches were less obvious or the hats didn't have a clear brim to them. It's not a huge deal though, and it mostly depends how much you like the more character-based designs.

My only other issue is that it kind of feels a little contradictory conceptually—like they're based off of industrial capitalists and smog, but then also they... clean the air they intake, to the point that they're part fairy-type? Like it feels like the pollution-causing Victorian capitalist theme and the inverted regional that cleans the air instead of polluting it are two separate concepts that both loose a little something when smushed together. Once again not a big deal, but something that's always just low-key bugged me.

Anyway, a pretty solid line as a whole. The concept for the originals is strong and both stages feel unique, and the designs are solid as well. The regional is also good conceptually and visually, albeit maybe a little too complex for its own good.

[kaunis-sielu]

Dangerous Places: 6

When you’re done with the bathroom you slowly make your way to the door. Captain is still in the bedroom, when you open the door he’d looked up.

“Alright, food?” He asks and you stare up at him, “you’ve gotta be hungry. It’s almost noon.”

“Oh, um food would be good.” You look past him and out the window. You can’t tell that it’s daytime out there, it’s unnerving.

“Alright, come on up Bunny.” He says holding out his arms before he gently scoops you up. You’re not sure where to look, you can’t look at him but it’s weird looking the way you’re walking. You settle on looking at your knees, the little scar there that you can see from when you were a kid and banged it open on the corner of the stairs.

Steve sets you down back on the counter. The way he so effortlessly carries you around is kind of astonishing.

“What do you want? We have,” he pulls open the fridge and frowns, “some beer. Don’t these animals eat?” He grumbles. “Alright Bunny, what do you want me to order in?”

“I don’t know.”

“Too many options.” He murmurs to himself and you’re surprised because that’s exactly what it is. “Okay, do you want Italian or Asian?”

“Italian?”

“Yea, pizza, pasta, that kind of stuff.”

“Italian please.”

“Okay, pasta or pizza?”

“Um, pizza please. Just cheese.” You haven’t eaten in a while so you don’t want to upset your stomach.

“Alright, I’ll get some actual groceries in here for you soon.”

“Okay.” It’s weird that he’s treating you so kindly, after all he did threaten you and kidnap you and is holding you hostage. So maybe he’s not being so kind after all.

“Alright, let’s make a list so that you can have food you like. Do you like to cook?”

“Yes.”

“Anything you need.”

“Where is my stuff?”

“Should be here later.” He says dismissively and it kind of pisses you off. You don’t dare say anything but you do glare at the floor in front of you. “Look at me.” His tone is gentle when he gives the command and you comply. “Oh Bunny.” He says with a grin, “I like seeing some fire from you. What’s got you bothered?”

“I can’t just live here without my shit. I need my phone and some other stuff.”

“You can’t have your phone.”

“Then you have to take me back to my apartment.” He sighs heavily,

“Bunny, we have gone over this. It isn’t happening.”

“I’m diabetic. I need my sensors, reader and medication.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He looks irritated as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t just as easy as snatching a woman out of her bed!” You snap, and he smirks over at you.

“Buck, I have some stuff I need you to get now. No, now.” He looks up at you, “Bunny where’s your stuff?”

“Pens are in the fridge and my pills are in the bathroom in the mirror. The needles and alcohol wipes are in the second drawer in the bathroom and so are the sensors, they’re in boxes. I have some lancets and another sensor in my purse.” You tell him,

“You hear that Buck? Good. I want that here in the next twenty minutes.” He pauses then growls, “No, I’m not fuckin joking. Get it here.” The power of this man is truly stunning, and a little terrifying. You’re starting to feel like he might actually be different than Crossbones, but then you remember his “business” he had to take care of before you went to sleep.

They’re all the same, all sharp edges and violence.

He texts someone else then looks up at you,

“What do you want to do while we wait for food?”

“When did you order?”

“I texted one of the ladies our order. I thought you might like having a woman around.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know he had women, your opinion of him was correct he’s just like Crossbones.

“So, movie? Tv? Reading? Just sitting here in silence looking at one another? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t care.” You say gently, you won’t be fooled by a mob man again.

“I want you to be comfortable here. I know this isn’t where you want to be but if I can at least make you comfortable I will.”

“Oh,”

“You said actions right?” You nod, “so you’ll see. Why don’t we go to the couch, we can eat there too.” He sets you on the couch before dropping down a cushion away. He turns the tv on and starts switching through the channels. There’s a knock on the door and he calls,

“Come in.” So Winter does and he has your supplies. He brings them to you and you pull out what you need to test, you have a feeling that you’re low, you put the lancet in then place it on your finger and push the button. You test your blood sugar and sure enough you’re low, even worse the number is going lower.

“How are you?”

“Fine.” You lie and Steve hums lowly,

“Try again Bunny. The truth this time.”

“I’m low, but it’s fine.”

“What do you need? Juice? Candy?”

“Juice works.” You tell him, “um, apple?” Steve looks at Winter who nods and leaves again.

“Bunny, when it comes to your health you tell me what you need.”

“Yes, Captain. Steve. Sorry.”

“Good girl.” He says and your gaze snaps to his, a slow smirk crosses his face. “I wondered if you might like that.”

“I don’t.” You lie and he chuckles,

“Your eyes tell me different Bunny.” You glare at him and he grins over at you. There’s another knock at the door, this one seems softer, less aggressive than Winter.

“Come in.” The door opens and a pretty red headed woman pushes open the door.

“Hey Cap, you wanted some pizza? Oh, hello.” She says seeing you.

“Hi.”

“Widow, thanks for picking that up.” Steve says and she nods putting the two pizza boxes on the table.

“How are you doing Honey?” She asks but you don’t say anything, instead you glance over at Steve.

“You can talk to her Bunny.”

“I’m fine.” You lie and she looks between you and Steve.

“Cap, out.” She demands,

“But pizza.” He practically whines and you stare at him in absolute shock.

“Oh take the damn thing with you you big baby.” You stare at her in astonishment, she can’t just talk to him like that can she? Steve groans softly but stands from the couch, grabs one of the boxes of pizza and leaves the house.

Tag list:

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[huh-1260]

So the LU gundam AU continues and

Wind and Twilight the only non clone children of the Chain! Bow I've shared some details from the LU Whumpever server, so I shall make a separate post for those details, BTW I just realized I forgot to mention Four on the server.

But, back to Wind and Twilight. Wind is a regular person (for now) but he's a space pirate. At first I was going for something like Mobile Suit Crossbone Gundam, but my ass is so unfamiliar with it, so I'm leaning more into the Gundam Astray story. So for Time's finally fight with the government, before he goes into the Fierce Deity equivalent of a Gundam (maybe I'll draw it later) to fight Skull kid/Majora (spoilers: Skull kid dies). With Legend's creation, which only happen because they found the arm of Time's original Gundam. So for Wind, he found the rest of the mobile suit. And because of certain details, aka the Time travel ability of the Ocarina of Time, the time ability goes to Wind to be the Phantom Sword (Lol I might call Wind's Gundam the Phantom Gundam). But for Wind's windwaker, that's where Wild comes in. Now it was very easy for me to say Wild and his team/Champions were abandoned to die but bot the state of the mobile suits. Now the Champions are dead, because it was a suicide mission. And for Wind's replacement arm for the Phantom Gundam, is Revali's mobile suites arm because fuck yeah Gundam Astray Gold frame with the Blitz arm. And with Wind basically not repainting the suit for some time that's how the Governemnt knew Time was alive and just deserted the army, so Time is considered a traitor to the government.

Which leads me to Twilight. Twilight is Time and Malon's son. (uh I forgot the two people that are Twilight's adopted parents in some people's fics so they're babysitters/godparents for Twilight because I feel bad for leaving them out) The Fierce Deity mobile suit was repurposed for Twilight's mobile suit, much to Time's argument against mobile suits because killing Skull kid and reading his older brother figure file of him dying in mobile suits still haunts him. (Hehehe Warriors isn't actually dead but hehhehhehe that makes the reunion more angsty along with the HADES system, ill probably rename it to SPIRIT or FOCUS if i figure out a way to make the system based off the HADES with those letters.) Twilight is a rebellious kid. Gotta keep the Gundam tradition alive by having children in Mobile suits fighting in a war they have no idea about. Also I'm going to have more than just Witch from Mercury reference be stuck to Time, I'm going to let baby Twilight sneak out and bond with the Gundam. And have Twilight get his markings from the suit too. But I'm going to let the suit transform into a wolf so I can have wolfie without any potential animal deaths in the future in case I want more angst. So because Time is a deserter, Twilight had to move around a lot and staying in Ordon for the longest time was his norm until, he meets Midna. A mobile suit designer, (well I can make her like the daughter of a mobile suit company which I guess can consider her a princess in some way) Midna helps with the Wolf Gundam (because it's no longer the Fierce Deity) and when she has to leave, their location is pretty much compromised. Which eventually leads to Twilight and Time going to space and meeting the rest of the chain, aka Twilight's uncles and Wind.

BTW designs are not final!

[g0dp4rticl3]

dkxjsndkxjs omg I definitely see why you like Megalo Don 😭👏💖 iconic fr

OOO, you like Marvel, now I'm really gonna be obnoxious >:3c

who's your favorite Avenger, who's your favorite X-Men, and do you have other favorite Marvel characters 👀

do you generally like the comics better or do you have any MCU favorites? characters or movies / shows, either way xD

have you watched X-Men 97 👀

AND do you like DC as well, or just Marvel?

also good music taste 👌👌 who's your favorite artist / band, and do you have a favorite album by them or someone else?

OOO more questions, awesome!! listen... Mad Max fuels me lmao no pun intended but when I saw the trailer for wrecked I was immediately getting MM feels and then I saw Don in game and it was all over for me! Im so happy you're also a marvel fan?!! wow you're honestly so cool rat. -reaches hand to shake- my favourite avenger is hawkeye -gets shot- I unironically like him and I have no shame. but Im also very much an iron man enjoyer. for x-men I gotta go with my boys magneto, cyclops, gambit aaaaand also a huge fan of cable! others favs are definitely ultron [my all time fav], andrew forson [super obscure character but looove him], star-lord, agent venom, crossbones, winter soldier, mysterio! I do like some of the mcu movies but the comic books are just what I have always preferred. though mcu movies I highly enjoy are guardians of the galaxy, winter soldier and thor ragnarok. I haven't watched 97 yet but I definitely need to! I grew up with the 90s animated series so 97 is A MUST! btw I can recommend xmen evolution to you if you haven't seen it, it's very fun to watch lol. I do like dc too! but I don't own nearly as many comics as I have for marvel. now I need to know your favs for marvel and also dc! my favourite musicians / bands to listen to are definitely mr kitty, hollywood undead, mind in a box, thyx, ac/dc, metallica, eisbrecher, corpse husband, perturbator, the weeknd uhh yes. hbu?

[shadowphoenixrider]

The Rescue Gambit (1/5) Meet the Team

(When Gambit's solo mission goes terribly wrong and the rest of the X-men aren't available to bail him out, Shadow turns to some old friends to mount a rescue mission. Shenanigans ensue.)

(Welcome to this monster of a fic, the longest I have ever written in my life (14K in total, give or take). Thankfully for you, dear reader, this is split into parts! Who knew writing a silly little rescue fic with my friends' characters would turn into this. Regardless, enjoy!)

Shadow strode down the street, weaving past people with single-minded determination. Her destination was a small, non-descript cafe on the corner of a city street, and she pushed her way inside.

The cafe’s atmosphere reflected the more relaxed area of the city; only a couple of patrons taking up the wooden tables and chairs as they sipped their beverages, and the person behind the counter only barely glanced up at the new arrival into their establishment.

Shadow’s eyes wandered over the room until she spotted a group of men and a woman gathered around one of the larger tables by the window, three of the gents on the hard chairs and the woman and other man in the plush cushioned seats backing up against the glass, supplying most of the noise with their chatter.

She grinned broadly, and headed towards them.

One of the men saw her first, large and bald with a neatly braided brown beard, and he threw his arms wide, beaming widely.

“Shadow!” He cried in his rich Geordie accent, and the others’ heads immediately whipped around to see her approaching.

A chorus of greetings went up as they rose out of their chairs and stumbled out from behind the table towards her, taking it in turns to wrap her up in a hug.

The first was Ber, a large Polish man whose true name was beyond the English speakers' ability to pronounce, as much as they tried. He shared a similar build to the man who had spotted her; a large, five foot nine man with soft features and body, bald except for his neatly trimmed dark brown beard and icy blue-grey eyes. He was clad in a light brown jacket over a pink top with the picture of a grinning, winking demon over the text of ‘SMILE MORE!’, soft grey tracksuit bottoms and well-worn green trekking boots. He hugged her close and yet with an endless gentleness that befitted the animal his name was related to.

Myst was second, a more wiry fellow of five foot six, with short brunette hair that was also trimmed short in a beard and moustache and darker brown eyes. A dark shirt and jeans, a shield with a grey-ish purple skull and crossbones printed on the former, with a teal zip jacket overtop was his clothing ensemble, and he gave Shadow a cheeky grin, eyes darting to the side just to check no-one had followed her.

Lemming, the man who had seen her first, gleefully swept her up into his embrace almost as soon as Myst had stepped away. His hazel brown eyes, sequestered behind his rectangular glasses, sparked with excitement, his grin wide and crooked, wearing a black shirt proudly displaying the logo of a local metal band. This was overtop of black cargo pants and equally dark coloured trainers. He was the tallest of the group, at five foot eleven.

Drifting came next, smiling serenely as she stepped up to the smaller woman. She, like all the others, stood taller than Shadow at five foot seven, with bright green eyes and gorgeous long wine-red hair, wearing an asymmetrical halter top of white and green on top of black jeans. There was a brief hesitation before she embraced Shadow too, which Shadow warmly returned.

And then last, but certainly not least, came Shadow’s adoptive brother and the only one of the group she could look directly in the eyes: Ebak. He strolled up to her casually, his cheeky, knowing smile on his face, reflected in eyes so dark brown many mistook them for black. His long curly ginger hair was tied back in a ponytail, a scruffy stubble over his cheeks and chin whilst a childhood scar slashed through his thick right eyebrow. He wore a button-up green and grey varsity-like hoodie over a black shirt displaying the red targeting computer from the first Star Wars movie, along with blue jeans. The short, stocky man opened his arms widely, gathering his sister up in a tight embrace.

“It’s good to see you again.” Ebak spoke as he pulled away, his accent rich and soft around the words.

“We’ve missed you!” Ber added from close by.

“I’ve missed you all too.” Shadow smiled, her heart feeling so swollen it threatened to burst out of her chest. She took a breath to hold back the tears threatening to well up in her eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve not managed to see you guys again before today. Things have been…complicated.”

“So I hear.” Lemming replied, leaning back in his seat.

“Yeah, I was wondering what happened to you after you suddenly stopped turning up at the hospital.” Drifting commented, as the rest all took their chairs again. Shadow slipped into the empty spot in the window beside her and Lemming, sighing.

“It’s a long story.” Shadow admitted. “But the short version is someone got me suspended on the 'suspicion’ of being a mutant - a suspension that’s still in place, by the way - and then I went and got myself involved in a fight between a Friends of Humanity weirdo and the X-Men. The latter of which took me in to their place to keep me safe from retaliation, which is why I haven’t exactly been present until now.”

“Wait, hold up.” Myst held his hands up. “You’ve been living with the X-Men this whole time?!”

“Technically still am.” Shadow added.

“What?!” Multiple people exclaimed, except for Ebak, who just listened calmly. Myst turned to him, narrowing his eyes.

“You knew already, didn’t you?”

Ebak shrugged nonchalantly.

“She called me a couple of days back to tell me what was happening. Which was good, because I was juust about to go and have a look around the place myself.” He eyed Shadow, arching his scarred eyebrow.

“Which was what I was afraid of.” She replied, folding her arms. “The last thing I want is my brother coming face to face with Wolverine and having to work out how to un-fillet him. As you can imagine, I've not really had the experience re-attaching limbs!" Ebak waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m glad they’ve been keeping you safe.” Ber said, his voice gentle and reaching across the table towards her. “I was worried about you.”

“I know.” Shadow smiled weakly, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet about it. We’re pretty sure any time those thugs would kick off is long past, though.”

“Let’s hope so.” Drifting commented. “But, correct me if I’m wrong, but you have a reason for calling us all here, right? I’m pretty sure hanging out with your friends involves less panicked 'hey can you meet at Leon’s as soon as you can, please?’ messages.”

“Maybe Shadow really, really missed our company.” Replied Lemming. Drifting gave him a tired, long-suffering look.

“As much as Shadow likes our company, I don’t think she’s ever been that desperate to see us.” Drifting retorted.

Ebak cleared his throat loudly, silencing any further discussion.

“Shadow?” He asked.

She took a breath, looking between all her friends.

“I need your help with a rescue mission,” she said.

“Rescue mission?” Myst asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Shadow nodded. “Bit of background. This morning, I and another one of the X-Men, Gambit, were out in the city…”

“Gambit, I’m not sure this is a great idea.” Shadow said, glancing around the wall to the small fenced compound beyond. “You’re not exactly geared for infiltration right now.”

The Cajun grinned.

“Don’t worry chère, Gambit not gonna stay for long. Jus’ quick in an’ out, get de lay of de land, swipe some formula, den come right back to you.”

Shadow sighed, exasperated.

“Look, I don’t doubt you’re an excellent thief, but I’ve really got a bad feeling about this. This isn’t just some shady office block downtown. We should at least wait until the others are back.”

“Contact said dey recently got a shipment in.” Gambit replied, his tone now serious. “Dis be the time to swipe it. Waitin’ for backup might give 'em the chance to move it on. Den we might never figure out what it is.”

Shadow swore internally, knowing he was right. And yet…

“Okay. At least let me call for backup if you don’t make it out, alright?”

He looked back at her, searching her face.

“Give me least fifteen minutes, chère,” he said. “If I’m not out by den, call de others.” He grinned widely. “But Gambit will be by ya side soon enough, you’ll see.”

“I sure hope so.” She sighed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “You take care now, alright?”

“Always, mon amie.” Gambit flashed her a wink. “See ya on de other side.”

And with that, the lithe mutant sprang gracefully up the side of the building, hopping from wall to wall until he disappeared over the lip of the roof.

“Considering we’re here, I’m guessing he…?” Myst trailed off. Shadow sighed, shaking her head.

“I gave him twenty minutes, just in case something came up. But when I returned to our previous look out, I was just in time to see his unconscious body being taken into the main building.” She explained. “As far as I know, he’s still being held in there now.”

A brief silence settled over the friends, all pensive.

It was Drifting who spoke first.

“Pardon me, but you’re with the X-Men, right? The group of mutants who go around saving people and blowing those Sentinels up? Why didn’t you go to them?”

“I would, if they weren’t dealing with some important mission right now.” Shadow explained, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if they’d be able to get over here in time before something happened to him. At best they’re just going to move him, at worse…” She shook her head. “I know you guys aren’t the same, and neither am I, but you were the only people I could think of that could get together to help me break him out.”

They looked amongst each other.

“Shadow, you really think we can go up against guys who took down an X-Man?” Lemming asked uncertainly.

“Just because Gambit’s an X-Man doesn’t make him any more a mutant than the rest of us.” She shook her head. “And he wasn’t geared for a mission, just casual clothes. All it would take is for someone to sneak up on him, or to make a mistake, and he’d be captured like anyone else.”

Ebak rubbed his scruffy chin thoughtfully.

“So sneak in, get Gambit, and sneak out again?” He said. Shadow nodded.

“Yes. If we could get a sample of that chemical formula those guys seem to be moving around, that would be ideal, but the main thing is to get Gambit out of there before anything happens to him.”

“That’s easy for you.” Myst folded his arms, eyeing the smaller man. “You can just blink in there when no-one’s watching.”

“If no-one’s watching.” Ebak repeated. “There’ll be security cameras in there for sure, and going in alone is what got Gambit caught.”

“Yeah, and I would prefer not to lose you to those bastards too.” Shadow added.

“I’m not sure my power is going to help you to be sneaky,” Ber piped up, smiling widely, “but you know that I will always help you, Shadow. Any way I can.”

She smiled warmly back, touched as always by his unwavering loyalty.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s something a big bear man can do to help us.” Ebak grinned over at his friend. “You always need a little bit of muscle when the stealth mission goes awry, right Number One?” He flashed a wink in his sister’s direction, and she rolled her eyes at his nickname for her.

“Well, I guess I’m coming too,” Drifting spoke. “On account of being able to almost completely disappear.”

“Only come if you want to.” Shadow eyed her seriously. “That goes for the rest of you too. I know this is big ask for you all, and I wouldn’t judge you at all for stepping away to keep yourselves safe. But know I wouldn’t’ve called you if I didn’t think you had it in you to help me.”

Drifting considered this for a long moment, before she nodded.

“You are going to need the one mutant with invisibility in this, and someone has to keep an eye on you all.” She smiled as Shadow chuckled. “Just don’t leave me alone in there, okay?”

“Of course not.” Said Shadow. “I intend to get everyone out of that place. No-one left behind.”

Ebak leant over in his chair towards Myst, looking at his friend expectantly. The younger man folded his arms, avoiding his gaze until he uttered a long sigh.

“…Fine. I’ll guess I’ll come along too.” He shot a glare at Ebak, now grinning smugly. “Someone has to keep E safe.”

“Your portals will be very useful.” Shadow smiled. “We’ll need a quick a getaway. And, maybe,” she smirked, meeting Ber’s gaze, “an instant-Ber delivery system, should things go south.”

Ber grinned widely, his ice-blue eyes sparkling with mischief. A smile pulled at Myst’s lips at that, entertained by the thought.

All eyes now turned to Lemming, who seemed to have shrunk in his seat. He glanced down at his hands, fidgeting with his watch.

“I dunno what I could do to help,” he said, unable to meet their gazes. “My power’s useless for this.”

“Hey, be kind yourself!” Ber cried. “Don’t make me come over there and hug you!”

“I have a few ideas how a man with manipulation of time perception could be useful.” Ebak spoke, drumming his fingers together. “Besides, you’re more than just your power, my friend.” He smiled, leaning forward. “Out of all of us, you’re the most knowledgeable of weapons - that could definitely help give us an edge in knowing what we’re going up against.”

“Yeah. If we know what they’re packing, we can get an idea of how well funded they are and how dangerous.” Myst added. Shadow nodded slowly.

“And that will definitely be information Cyclops and the others will wanna know after we get out,” she said. “Also. On the very real possibility that something does go horribly wrong, we will need someone on the outside to get the rest of the X-Men.”

Lemming paled slightly.

“You…you sure about this?”

“Very sure. I’ve been around them long enough to know you also need a back-up plan, even if that backup plan is 'oh shit I fucked up, I need an adult’.” Shadow reached into her pocket for a pen. “I’ll give you the address, anyone got some paper?”

There was rustling from around the table, until Drifting pushed a small scrap of paper over to the other woman. Shadow thanked her, before beginning to slowly write it out in her neatest handwriting.

“Here.” She handed it to Lemming, who looked it over, tucking it into his pocket.

“Alright. I’ll come along.” He smiled, resting a hand on Shadow’s small shoulder. “To make sure y'all come back safely.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Shadow smiled. “All of you. I know this isn’t gonna be easy or a walk in the park, so I’m really grateful for your help.”

“We’ll always be here for you.” Ber replied, smiling. “You know that.”

“What the Ber-man said!” Ebak added. “We’re your friends. Your problems are ours.”

Drifting nodded, as did Lemming.

“Besides, what the use of having the power to turn invisible if don’t use it to get into places I shouldn’t be.” Drifting commented, smiling wryly.

“Yeah! And think about it, how often does anyone get to say that they helped rescue an X-Men?” Myst pointed out. “Uh, provided we pull this off, of course.”

“I have faith in us.” Shadow smiled. “You’re not only my closest friends, but the finest group of mutants I know who aren’t famous. We can do this.”

“Right. Well, if we are going do this, we need to solve one very important problem,” Lemming said. “Communication. It’s not like any of us are telepathic or anything.”

“No worries, I had the exact same thought as you.” Shadow smirked, retrieving a small nylon pouch from her pocket. “When I briefly returned to the mansion to call you guys, I picked these up.”

She opened it, gently spilling its contents out. They leaned forwards to examine the small objects.

“Are these ear pieces?” Drifting asked, picking one up to examine it.

“Got it in one.” Shadow grinned. “They have the microphone attached, you can clip it subtly to a piece of your clothing, then press the body when you need to talk through. It’s what we use when we don’t have a dedicated comm. We’ll sort the frequency out in a bit.”

“Am I right in thinking you might have a plan for us, then?” Ebak asked, taking one of the ear pieces.

“A preliminary one, though we’ll need to do another rekkie before I’m sure.” Shadow said. “So, I was thinking…”

(Next: Break In)

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers - Episode 6

The pace of this show is really slow...in a good way. Not filler-y, just lots of time for atmosphere and character development. Digimon Adventure had a clear formula for each episode, this one you don't quite know what you're going to get. Also, it's interesting to see the ratio of old digimon returning vs. new digimon. I'm glad it's a mix and not all new, less is more.

Notes:

Kay so Ruki is richy rich I guess. We see her fancy academy (with uniforms!) and her grandma basically lives in a Japanese-style mansion. Her inner conflicts appear to be that she's feeling kind of neglected by her too-busy mom (typical 2000s plot) and that she's bored because she's too good at card games lol. Boohoo Ruki. Her mom can't be that neglectful, at least she showed up briefly!

In her flashback Ruki's wearing a skull and crossbones shirt with a popped collar, black jacket. Okay, goth phase...(or maybe emo?) Relatable.

One of the TCG cards shown in the beginning is Andiramon from one of the movies! Cool little cameo.

Renamon moves very ninja-like. I thought it was a little weird looking when she floated into the darkness in one scene. Is floating one of her powers or is that more of a ~dramatic effect~ thing?

Love Ruki's little TCG/digivice utility belt. Not sure what the point of the belt around her leg is. Anime!

I swear every time they show a new dinosaur digimon I'm like "oh great, another Greymon/Agumon reskin." We have enough dinosaurs already! At least go for a dino with a different shape. I guess this new one is supposed to look like an Allosaurus. One positive thing I'll say is that I like that he's furry (or feathery I guess? His muzzle's all shaggy).

Maybe I'm just dumb, but this anime doesn't really warn you when it transitions into a flashback so I keep getting confused. When they showed Ruki winning the D1 Tournament I was just like "oh, I guess she won again" lol.

So Takato and Jian manifested their partners when they were feeling really passionate about them. With Ruki, all of the digimon come to her because she's so good at their card game lol. Renamon wants Ruki to be her tamer the most I guess so she "wins" and comes to the real world. That whole flashback was pretty weird. Why'd they make it so sinister?

Finally we get our first main bad guy! Impmon. I really, really like his design. He reminds me of Kuromi (Kuromi's boyfriend? lol) I also like his "impish" personality so far. Just a little troll. He reminds me of Demi Devimon a lot.

Impmon's awkward conversation with Renamon was really funny. It felt like she was like "Let me hear this guy out...oh wait...he's an idiot."

Is this the first time the "should tamers really be partners with digimon?" question has come up? I honestly don't remember. It could have come up in one of the manga or games or something. I think this is the first time a digimon is questioning it in the anime tho, so that's fun. I feel like it's inevitable in all of these mon series. Maybe Culumon will bring in an interesting angle since he's partner-less

Speaking of Culumon...his role in this episode was so random! He just pops up out of nowhere after Renamon/Kyubimon's fight with Dokugumon. I was like "Where did HE come from?" I feel like he had zero purpose in that scene...?

So the cards definitely work differently in the games vs. the anime. I guess to make them more flashy. It's interesting that you can use them to give one digimon another digimon's attributes, but that might be kind of awkward to implement in a TCG.

I think I've seen too many nine tailed foxes at this point because when Kyubimon was revealed I just kind of felt like "well...seen this design a buncha times." That being said, it does look really nice. You can't beat the classics! I don't really like all the yin-yang symbols tho, I think they look a little tacky (maybe just keep the one on the forehead).

So it seems like Renamon was able to digivolve once Ruki started seeing her as a living being. Another route they could have taken is to have Renamon go into a dark digivolution when Ruki was abusive. That could have been interesting. The arrested development probably makes more sense this early in the season though.

[drinkinboilingcoffee]

🍒

❓

🎊

yes I have ramble permission-

(Game here)

🍒= William’s main motivation for killing was to bring back Evan, and the missing kids were his first attempt at actually testing that revival. As such, he thought it fitting the people who caused Evan’s death be the ones to suffer through the process of fixing him. Gabriel, Jerri (my name for Jeremy to avoid confusion with Mr. Fitzgerald) and Susie were Mike’s friends from fnaf 4 and the only ones William was sure he was going to kill. When their revivals had unsatisfactory results, William killed Fritz (who he tries to justify as being present at the party and not trying to stop Evan’s death) and Cassidy (who didn’t have any connection to the event at all).

❓= Gabriel and Jerri are both 13, Susie is 14 (only a few months older than Gabe and Jer and about the age of Mike at the time), Fritz is 9 and Cassidy is 7

🎊= Oh boy I suck at describing personalities (I’m much more of a show-don’t-tell for this stuff) but here goes- Susie is kind of the tough one in the group (I based her a lot on fnaf 4 rather than ffps so sorry if that bugs anyone). Kind of person who would beat the shit out of you if you cut her in line but takes bugs and puts them outside rather than crushing them- probably a big animal person (her dog Chestnut possesses Mr. Cupcake). Gabriel thinks nothing through. Has eaten many live insects on dares and has probably been hospitalized as a result. Actually helped design some of the Fredbear and Friends characters- his dad works as one of the voice actors (he boasts about it a lot) and got some of his designs submitted to William. Ngl I kind of see Jerri as the quiet one? The kind of person where even with close friends he wouldn’t speak unless he was 100% sure people would agree (me). Was probably a theater kid. He was closest to Mike and knew the most about his situation at home (Michael would sometimes have to stay over at Jerri’s for the night if there was a particularly bad episode) so he didn’t trust William as blindly as the others. I like him. Fritz is that one 9 year old on every public transit who’s a wearing full Avengers outfit and running around away from his parents talking to all the older kids about his Spider-Man sona. Was obsessed with pirates (he’s missing an eye and had to wear a patch that he drew a skull and crossbones on). Gabriel’s cousin but they live practically next door and act like brothers (Fritz looks up to him a lot). Cassidy is an only child and lived with various relatives on and off while her dad was sick when she was younger, so she didn’t really have a chance to form an sort of stable friend group until she was older. She’s definitely a quiet kid and the kind of quiet kid who will bite you. She spent most of her time at Freddy’s (her dad worked there) and had the entire layout memorized, including how to get into places she wasn’t supposed to (she would go over to where Golden Freddy was stored and leave flowers and toys. She didn’t really know why, but she felt sorry for it. It drove William crazy when he kept finding dolls and dandelions surrounding the animatronic that killed his son like some kind of shrine).

[katsigian]

✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘔𝘌𝘙 𝘎𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘊 𝘈𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘊𝘚 ∘₊✧

(A bit over a year ago, I was tagged in this tag game and when I tried to find the original, I couldn't. All I found were a copy of some of the aesthetics in a server, so I decided to fill it out some. I edited it slightly and added some new things. If anyone knows the original creator of the game or where it began, please let me know so I can put credit.)

𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘢𝘸‧͙⁺˚*☾

I'm going to do this for him <3 my daywalker boy

✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘔𝘌𝘙 𝘎𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘊 𝘈𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘊𝘚 ∘₊✧

∘₊✧ ─────────────────────── ✧₊∘

𝘙𝘜𝘓𝘌𝘚: 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴; 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘺; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘺

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘏𝘈𝘜𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘖𝘈𝘙𝘋𝘞𝘈𝘓𝘒

rickety ferris wheels, carnival lights through fog, saltwater taffy and popcorn, tarot card readings, childhood best-friends, thunderstorms over the sea, tear-streaked face paint, chipping animatronics partially submerged in brackish water, ill-fated games of truth or dare, vintage circus posters boasting mermaids and wolf men, underwater caves marked with a skull and crossbones, darts that are a little too sharp, twinkling lights in the dark, distant and ghostly laughter, blue and pink cotton candy, sunburnt shoulders, cherry flavored sno-cones, switchblades tucked into costumes, a bloody trail into an old tent

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘖𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘒 𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙

the yellow eye shine of an unseen animal, circling turkey vultures, unnatural fluctuations in the passage of time, daddy long legs in rotting logs, distorted backwards speech through a walkie-talkie, unexplainable antler shrines, coniferous mountain horizons, star-like bonfire sparks whirling in an indigo night, nests of infant barn owls, claw marks in tent fabric, soft and distant howls, unexplained lights darting through trees, clawed footprints in the dirt, bomber jackets and hiking boots, an old and well-used shotgun, thunderstorms that darken the sky, a rusted and reliable truck, the smell of petrichor, a voice calling your name from the trees

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘖𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘕 𝘊𝘌𝘔𝘌𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘠

magnolia blossoms, chipping white porch swings, spanish moss, suffocating humidity, faded photographs of lacy weddings, tire tracks in mud, mausoleum angels, family trees, the yellow-green eyes of alligators, repressed childhood memories bubbling to the surface, broken porcelain dolls, legs covered with mosquito bites, blood promises, crucifixes, barbed wire, dark family secrets, stained white button downs, sweat drops down your spine, marshy swamp lands, weeping willow trees, rusted iron gates, cicadas in the summer, moss covered gravestones with fresh dirt, cursed family jewelry, old patina rosaries, fireflies at dusk

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘙𝘖𝘈𝘋 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘗 𝘉𝘜𝘙𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘛

bloodshot eyes, flickering neon motel signs, aviator sunglasses, magic 8 balls, recurrent dreams of grey aliens, beaded curtains, dusty denim and incense smoke, sepia desert vistas, playlists of 1960s rock songs, coded messages in television static, comets in the night sky, fake ids, gas station snacks, jesus bobble heads, split lips, patchouli, paranoia between friends, ice cold diet coke, ripped jeans and converse, cigarette smoke drifting out of a car window, a 1960's white ford mustang, evergreen air fresheners, thousand yard stares, a gas station attendant who knows too many secrets, something dark following alongside your car, abandoned rest stops, rickety road signs that lead nowhere

∘₊✧ ─────────────────────── ✧₊∘

I'm going to tag some pals, but there's zero pressure to share it publicly if you'd rather not <;3 @rindemption @noirapocalypto @uldwynsovs @nuclearstorms @aartyom @devilbrakers @reaperkiller @noonfaerie @halsin @spicyraeman @gelvaan @serenedy @nokstella @cybersmallz @trashkingnyx @strafethesesinners @thefrostyshepard @arcandoria @holofishes @pinkydude @jaymber @saintemarvel @fleetwoodmoth @saevus-brutalis @elvenbeard @baldurians @swanfey @cyberpunkaddict @serenedy

✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘔𝘌𝘙 𝘎𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘊 𝘈𝘌𝘚𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘊𝘚 ∘₊✧

∘₊✧ ─────────────────────── ✧₊∘

𝘙𝘜𝘓𝘌𝘚: 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘴; 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘺; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘭𝘺

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘏𝘈𝘜𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘖𝘈𝘙𝘋𝘞𝘈𝘓𝘒

rickety ferris wheels, carnival lights through fog, saltwater taffy and popcorn, tarot card readings, childhood best-friends, thunderstorms over the sea, tear-streaked face paint, chipping animatronics partially submerged in brackish water, ill-fated games of truth or dare, vintage circus posters boasting mermaids and wolf men, underwater caves marked with a skull and crossbones, darts that are a little too sharp, twinkling lights in the dark, distant and ghostly laughter, blue and pink cotton candy, sunburnt shoulders, cherry flavored sno-cones, switchblades tucked into costumes, a bloody trail into an old tent

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘖𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘒 𝘙𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘌𝘙

the yellow eye shine of an unseen animal, circling turkey vultures, unnatural fluctuations in the passage of time, daddy long legs in rotting logs, distorted backwards speech through a walkie-talkie, unexplainable antler shrines, coniferous mountain horizons, star-like bonfire sparks whirling in an indigo night, nests of infant barn owls, claw marks in tent fabric, soft and distant howls, unexplained lights darting through trees, clawed footprints in the dirt, bomber jackets and hiking boots, an old and well-used shotgun, thunderstorms that darken the sky, a rusted and reliable truck, the smell of petrichor, a voice calling your name from the trees

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘚𝘖𝘜𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘕 𝘊𝘌𝘔𝘌𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘠

magnolia blossoms, chipping white porch swings, spanish moss, suffocating humidity, faded photographs of lacy weddings, tire tracks in mud, mausoleum angels, family trees, the yellow-green eyes of alligators, repressed childhood memories bubbling to the surface, broken porcelain dolls, legs covered with mosquito bites, blood promises, crucifixes, barbed wire, dark family secrets, stained white button downs, sweat drops down your spine, marshy swamp lands, weeping willow trees, rusted iron gates, cicadas in the summer, moss covered gravestones with fresh dirt, cursed family jewelry, old patina rosaries, fireflies at dusk

────── ✧₊∘ 𝘙𝘖𝘈𝘋 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘗 𝘉𝘜𝘙𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘛

bloodshot eyes, flickering neon motel signs, aviator sunglasses, magic 8 balls, recurrent dreams of grey aliens, beaded curtains, dusty denim and incense smoke, sepia desert vistas, playlists of 1960s rock songs, coded messages in television static, comets in the night sky, fake ids, gas station snacks, jesus bobble heads, split lips, patchouli, paranoia between friends, ice cold diet coke, ripped jeans and converse, cigarette smoke drifting out of a car window, a 1960's white ford mustang, evergreen air fresheners, thousand yard stares, a gas station attendant who knows too many secrets, something dark following alongside your car, abandoned rest stops, rickety road signs that lead nowhere

∘₊✧ ─────────────────────── ✧₊∘

[queen-susans-revenge]

In the space pirate novel I'm shopping around right now, the image the group uses as their "flag" (really more of a general logo) is in the traditional format of a skull-and-crossbones, but the skull is a wolf's skull, and the background is red.

So pretty much just for my own amusement, I decided to try and generate an image of this jolly roger in Midjourney. With just a verbal prompt, it gave me designs like this:

Close! But it specifically needs to be a wolf skull, and when Midjourney hears anything like "wolf, animal, lupine," it wants to put in fur and ears.

So! I went looking for actual wolf skulls on the Internet, because you can feed Midjourney images as part of the prompt. And I discovered something delightful: the Internet has gotten wolf skulls and raccoon skulls confused. (From the linked thread: "Raccoon skulls DO look better than wolf skulls from the front, and the compounding popularity from multiple searches has pushed it to the top of Google search for 'Wolf Skull Front View'".) Do I think my pirates should be broadcasting a raccoon jolly roger, because a hundred years in the future it will be impossible to find a real wolf skull in an image search? Yes. Yes, I do. I would love for the cover of the book to be the raccoon skull jolly roger, a joke that will never be explained or mentioned in the text.

Unfortunately it's not much easier to get Midjourney to generate a raccoon skull, and the closest I ended up getting was this unholy hybrid:

so I manually mashed the two above images together in Gimp, fed *that* back to Midjourney with the text prompt, and ended up with...

this...

...it's a work in progress. A little more work in Gimp to shave down those ears, and I'll probably be satisfied.

[toskarin]

Dear toskarin, I am watching through the UC Gundam series for the first time, and remember you mentioning that even if there's no anime of it, Crossbones is canon. Could you tell me when it takes place, so I know when to try and read it?

Crossbone follows F91 which itself follows CCA