#Free Fire Mania

[zigcarnivorous]

KNOCK KNOCK CAN ANYBODY MATCH ME

[greenwitchcrafts]

January 2025 Witch Guide

New Moon: January 29th

First Quarter: January 6th

Full moon: January 13th

Last Quarter: January 21nd

Sabbats: None

January Wolf Moon

Also known as:  Bear Moon, Center Moon, Chaste Moon, Cold Moon, Disting Moon, Freeze Up Moon, Frost Exploding Moon, Goose Moon, Great Moon, Greetings Moon, Hard Moon  Ice Moon,  Moon of the Little Winter, Quiet Moon, Severe Moon, Spirt Moon & Snow Moon

Element: Air

Zodiac: Capricorn & Aquarius

Nature spirts: Brownies & Gnomes

Deities: Chang'e, Freya, Hera, Inanna & Saraswati

Animals: Coyote & fox

Birds: Blue Jay & pheasant

Trees:  Birch & Hazel

Herbs: Cones, holy thistle& marjoram

Flowers: Crocus & snowdrop

Scents: Mimosa & musk

Stones:  Chrysoprase, garnet, hematite, moonstone, onyx, jet, red tourmaline rose quartz & ruby

Issues, intentions & powers: Beginnings, healing, money, protection & strength

Energy: Breaking bad habits, creative expressiveness, energy working to the surface, forgiveness, freedom, friendships, future plans, hrowth, healing, problem solving, purification, responsibility & science

January’s full Moon came to be known as the Wolf Moon because wolves were more likely to be heard howling at this time. Though it was traditionally believed that wolves howled due to hunger during winter, we know today that isn’t accurate.

Howling & other wolf vocalizations are heard in the wintertime to locate pack members, reinforce social bonds, define territory & coordinate hunting. One study recorded spontaneous howls and responses happen most often between 11 p.m. and 6 a.m. .

  • According to the Wolf Conversation Center, gray wolves “inhabited most of the available land in the Northern Hemisphere.” Habitat destruction & persecution by humans have reduced their range by about a third worldwide & 90% in the lower 48 states.

Other celebrations:

• Hogmanay: December 31st- January 1st-

Christmas was not celebrated as a festival and virtually banned in Scotland for around 400 years. So it was, right up until the 1950s that many Scots worked over Christmas & celebrated their winter solstice holiday at New Year, when family & friends would gather for a party and to exchange presents which came to be known as hogmanays.  

Customs vary throughout Scotland & usually include gift-giving & visiting the homes of friends & neighbors. Another common Hogmanay tradition is to clean the house. Some believe that beginning the New Year with an unclean house may bring bad luck. Traditionally, this would include taking out the ashes from the coal fire. 

• Particular attention is given to the first-foot(is the first person to enter the home of a household on New Year's Day and is seen as a bringer of good fortune for the coming year bearing coal to ensure the house remains warm in the coming months  & should traditionally be a tall, dark-haired man.)

• Compitalia/ Feast of Lades: January 3-5-

Was an annual festival in honor of the Lares Compitales, household deities of the crossroads, to whom sacrifices were offered at the places where two or more ways met. Dionysius said that Servius Tullius founded the festival, which he describes as it was celebrated in his time. Dionysius relates that the sacrifices consisted of honey-cakes (Ancient Greek: πέλανοι) presented by the inhabitants of each house; & that the people who assisted as ministering servants at the festival were not free men, but slaves because the Lares took pleasure in the service of slaves. He further adds that the Compitalia were celebrated a few days after the Saturnalia with great splendor & that the slaves on this occasion had full liberty to do as they pleased.

During the celebration of the festival, each family placed the statue of the underworld goddess Mania at the door of their house. They also hung up at their doors figures of wool representing men & women, accompanying them with humble requests that the Lares & Mania would be contented with those figures, and spare the people of the house.

• Lunar New Year: January 29th-

The Lunar new year (Commonly referred as Chinese New Year) is one of the most important holidays in Chinese culture marking the end of winter & the beginning of the spring season, observances traditionally take place from New Year's Eve, the evening preceding the first day of the year to the Lantern Festival, held on the 15th day of the year. The new year starts on the new moon nearest the midpoint between the winter solstice & the spring equinox, sometime between January 21 and February 20.

• This holiday has ancient roots in China as an agricultural society. It was the occasion to celebrate the harvest & worship the gods & ask for good harvests in times to come

Each culture celebrates the Lunar New Year differently with various foods and traditions that symbolize prosperity, abundance & togetherness. In preparation for the Lunar New Year, houses are thoroughly cleaned to rid them of inauspicious spirits, which might have collected during the old year. Cleaning is also meant to open space for good will and good luck.

Some households hold rituals to offer food & paper icons to ancestors. Others post red paper and banners inscribed with calligraphy messages of good health and fortune in front of & inside, homes. Elders give out red envelopes containing money to children. Foods made from glutinous rice are commonly eaten, as these foods represent togetherness. Other foods symbolize prosperity, abundance & good luck.

The origins of the Lunar New Year festival are thousands of years old & are steeped in legends. One legend is that of Nian, a hideous beast believed to feast on human flesh on New Year's day. Because Nian feared the color red, loud noises & fire, red paper decorations were pasted to doors, lanterns were burned all night, and firecrackers were lit to frighten the beast away.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2025 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

https://www.edinburghfestivalcity.com/festivals/edinburghs-hogmanay

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit. 

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be. 

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone. 

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action. 

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real. 

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery. 

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting. 

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months. 

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family. 

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down. 

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared. 

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs. 

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of. 

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school. 

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are. 

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use). 

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is. 

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried. 

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience. 

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment. 

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant. 

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous. 

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine. 

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest. 

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect. 

Fuck. She is nervous. 

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon! 

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it. 

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best. 

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping. 

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading. 

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago. 

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died. 

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right? 

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts. 

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace? 

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot. 

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving. 

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet? 

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. 

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb. 

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. 

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do. 

Fucking finally. 

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

[hellwatermelon]

My top 100 favorite albums 2024

Armand Hammer - BLK LBL Cannell Laura - The Rituals of Hildegard Reimagined Selbst - Despondency Chord Progressions Vince Staples - Dark Times Grace Cummings - Ramona Crizin da Z.O. - ACELERO Various Artists - funk.BR - São Paulo (NTS) Lesser Care - HEEL TURN Omar Souleyman - Erbil Poroniec - W Pologu

The Body , Dis Fig - Orchards Of A Futile Heaven Ink & Fire - Emblazoned Visions Yield Eternity Amiture - Mother Engine Blood Incantation - Absolute Elsewhere Vitriol - Suffer & Become Djevel - Natt Til Ende JPEGMAFIA - I LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU Waxahatchee - Tigers Blood Cower - Celestial Devastation Full of Hell - Coagulated Bliss

Full of Hell and Andrew Nolan - Scraping The Divine SECT - Plagues Upon Plagues Elucid - Revelator Revival Season - Golden Age Of Self Snitching KA - The Thief Next to Jesus Venus Twins - /\/\/\/\/ Kriegshög - Love & Revenge Moor Mother - The Great Bailout Chelsea Wolfe - She Reaches Out To She Reaches Out To She 070 Shake - Petrichor

Castle Rat - Into The Realm Darkestrah - Nomad Mary Lattimore - Rain on the Road Camerata Mediolanense - Atalanta Fugiens Haley Heynderickx - Seed of a Seed Weltenbrandt - Transzendenz Schatten Romantik Panzerfaust - The Suns of Perdition IV: To Shadow Zion Cabinet - Hydrolysated Ordination Kidnapped - Disgust

Throwing Snow - Isthmus Floating Points - Cascade E-Saggila - Gamma Tag Oranssi Pazuzu - Muuntautuja Joanna Wang - Hotel La Rut (破爛酒店) Beth Gibbons - Lives Outgrown Position Parallèle - Aiguille À Découdre Amigo the Devil - Yours Until the War is Over Elyanna - WOLEDTO Kvadrat - The Horrible Dissonance of Oblivion

Childish Gambino - Bando Stone and The New World Lowen - Do Not Go To War With The Demons Of Mazandaran Roc Marciano - Marciology The Gnashing - Forsaken Sanctuary Lhaäd - Beneath Uniform - American Standard Westside Gunn - Still Praying Denzel Curry - King of the Mischievous South Vol. 2 Kelly Moran - Moves in the Field Jenny Don't & The Spurs - Broken Hearted Blue

WILLOW - empathogen Venomous Echoes - Split Formations and Infinite Mania Blaze of Perdition - Upharsin LL Cool J - The FORCE Rome Streetz & Daringer - Hatton Garden Holdup Show Me The Body - Corpus II ØKSE Maelstrom & Louisahhh - May the Rage Burn a Path for Joy Etran de L’Aïr - 100% Sahara Guitar Toby Driver - Raven, I Know That You Can Give Me Anything

Squarepusher - Dostrotime SHXCXCHCXSH - ……t Jlin - Akoma Kelly Lee Owens - Dreamstate KASHIWA Daisuke - Titan Molok - Ne pas chercher á comprendre My Dying Bride - A Mortal Binding Antichrist Siege Machine - Vengeance of Eternal Fire Skeleton Lipstick - Death Romantique Seekersinternational + Mars89 - Dangerous Combination

Consumer Electronics - Surge Kendrick Lamar - GNX Dame Area - Toda La Verdad Sobre Dame Area Tyler, The Creator - CHROMAKOPIA Felix K - Sudbaism Heems - Lafandar Holy Tongue & Shackleton - The Tumbling Psychic Joy of Now Al Wooton - Lifted From The Earth Ab-Soul - Soul Burger Previous Industries - Service Merchandise

Ponte del Diavolo - Fire Blades From The Tomb Doechii - Alligator Bites Never Heal Lord Buffalo - Holus Bolus Tristwch Y Fenywod Mannequin Pussy - I Got Heaven Humbird - Right On Mount Eerie - Night Palace Jasper Byrne, Sonic - Mirrors Odium Humani Generis - Międzyczas Milkweed - Folklore 1979

HONORABLE MENTIONS, mostly albums I heard very late in the year that would probably be added:

Big Blood - Electric Voyeur Kir - L'appel Du Vide UBOA - Impossible light Ganavya - Like The Sky I've Been Too Quiet

best of 2018

Best of 2020

Best of 2021

Best of 2022

Best of 2023

Any of you all want to add yours feel free :)

[ptn-imagines]

Can you do Suspect R x pre amnesia! chief? ik there's not a lot of content for her but they give such domestic married wives energy like

LOOK AT THIS. its fine if u dont accept, ther are PLENTY other ptn womens i thirst after so....

Oh, I will absolutely write for Suspect R despite her lack of content. In fact, I was hoping someone would ask!

Due to the lack of content on both her and Chief pre-amnesia, I ended up focusing more on the feelings they may have shared more than anything else, using the glimpses of Shepherd-12 we see in Shalom's interrogation as a guide. If this isn't to your satisfaction, feel free to send in another request! Praying that chapter 14 marks the return of the OG wife...

Suspect R x Pre-Amnesia!Chief

Once upon a time, her name was the one they loved the most. In a world where everyone wanted to use or betray them, she was the only one they trusted whole-heartedly. Shepherd-12 adored her.

As truths were unveiled and lies became unmasked and Shepherd-12 became more and more jaded to the world, she was the only one spared of hissing and biting. Only she could melt the icy protective layer upon the Shepherd’s heart, for only she could be trusted with it. Only she had pure intentions.

Secret trysts and rendezvous, the Shepherd was always so tense until the face of the nameless official melted away to reveal their lover, who perched on the edge of their desk like she belonged there. She did belong there. And the Shepherd abhorred the idea of belonging to anyone, anyone except for her. They would give themself over to her in a heartbeat, and they would drown in her, and it would be a sweet way to die.

They are a creature of Mania, but this Sinner is their salvation. She makes them feel human in a way that nobody and nothing else does, and they know that fate will never be kind to them so they relish these precious moments, and they love her eternally and devotedly and without regret nor restraint.

She loves them in kind for she knows this is what they need. They will never speak their thank yous aloud but she knows; how could she not? Even if the world should revile them, see them as monsters (and it did), the two of them would have each other. They need nothing else.

She holds them so close as though she attempts to meld their flesh as one. They greedily kiss her deeper, hotter, as though trying to exchange pieces of their souls with each entwined breath. She is both the untamed tempest that will inevitably drown them and the singular piece of driftwood that keeps them afloat in the storm.

Nothing else matters. Nobody else matters. Let the world burn to ash. The Shepherd would welcome it. The world is rotten to the core. So are they. Only she remains pure in an endless sea of filth. Only she is the truth among the lies.

“My dearest, your heart is becoming so black,” she whispered one night, and they didn’t know it then but this would be the final time they saw her like this. Her fingers caressed their face and they purred, leaning into the touch.

“They don’t deserve any more,” they breathed, nails digging into her back as though they were afraid they might slip through their fingers. “They can go to Hell for all I care. You’re the only thing that matters.”

She smiled at this and pulled them into another deep kiss. This one felt different, like a goodbye, but it was still filled with every ounce of passion and fire and desire and need and belonging they had come to expect. “You know it won’t end like this.”

“I know.” They detest the fact. She makes it bearable. She’s the only reason they haven’t torn the world asunder yet, because she is part of that world. “But you’ll be there, won’t you?”

She smiled. “Always. Don’t sleep for too long, or I might have to come and get you myself…”

…

Shepherd-13 always wakes from the dreams of these memories too soon, these ghosts banished with the rise of the sun over this corrupt city.

What was her name?

If they could choose anything to remember, it would be this.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi! Can I request cursed spirit reader who has a similar demeanor to Mahito? Maybe one where she shows Choso how to do hair and makeup? :3

Haha! This is so random but I’ll never reject a nice Choso request! Big brother alert, let’s gooooo~!

Choso- Styling Perfection

Makeup and hair you say? Choso doesn’t know this stuff, due to having only brothers. He never had a sister to call his own, so girly self-care is truly uncharted waters for him

For you, Choso has always liked how you cared for his remaining little brothers and after a while, he’s developed a crush on you. A cursed spirit that had the same intriguing mania of Mahito, after Mahito disappeared. You practically replaced him but you are more approachable

Choso found you taking care of your hair one day and his fingers instinctively combing through the thick strands, amazed by how soft it is. It kinda went out of hand when you shoved your hairbrush into his hand and had him brush your hair for you

Choso is beet red as he brushes your hair. You’re just so confident and you don’t care if it makes you look any certain way… he really likes that in such a person, even a cursed spirit

“Is this how you do it?” Choso softly chimed in after moments of silence, as he pulled away the rough bristles of your hairbrush from the now smooth, combed strands as his free hand had fingers tangled in the clumps in such a careful manner, he didn’t want to pull any of your hair out with his bare hands. Your hair is so pretty, your eyeshadow-decorated eyelids and lipstick-stained plump lips are always so pretty… it’s almost angelic for a being so corrupted and evil like you

“Yes! Now, be careful when you do style it! I don’t have a lot of hairties!” You respond with a rather eerily upbeat tone, hands reaching out for your disregarded makeup bag to begin pulling out the necessary utensils to begin dolling yourself up as you had always felt cute pastel makeup in colourful eyeshadow and glittery lipstick made you feel simply adorable. Out of everybody you knew from the little Cursed Spirit group, you wanted Choso to assist you with it

And he, for sure, did help the best he could as he places down his gentle hold on your hair to turn around to meet your gorgeous face as you hand him the now blush-dusted brush for him to dab on your cheeks for you. Choso’s own face was burning red, hotter than the grandest fire as he gently places the feathery hair-bristle on your soft, silky skin to lightly dust it until the soft glow of pink marked on your features, further highlighting your beauty whilst you hummed delighted and closed your eyes

His eyes scanned over to the open contents of your small standing makeup bag where he spotted a single mascara in a vibrant aquamarine hand-held container. He didn’t know what it was but he wanted to help put it on, he wanted to further decorate you in such amazing colours to make you shine. Rather you be twisted and corrupt afterwards, you’re simply so beautiful right now that Choso can’t keep it to himself

He never suspected he’d ever be able to watch you get ready, let alone help you get ready… he is in heaven and he almost can’t speak with how relaxed and lovestruck he is…

“Can I help put on that stuff in the aquamarine container too?”

[falloutboylyricss]

Fall Out Boy and Places

note: this post only includes names of specific places, both real and fictional

Evening Out With Your Girlfriend

"I'm deep with futures like Chicago / No, Glenview never meant a thing to me, she never meant a thing to me" - Growing Up

Take This to Your Grave

"Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoria with promise and precision" - Saturday

"Landing on a runway in Chicago, and I'm grounding all my dreams of ever really seeing California" - Homesick at Space Camp

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago (title only)

"But there's a light on in Chicago, and I know I should be home" - Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

From Under The Cork Tree

none

Infinity On High

"Put love on hold, young Hollywood is on the other line" - The (After) Life Of The Party

"And everyone's looking for relief, United States versus disbelief" - You're Crashing, But You're No Wave

"New York eyes, Chicago thighs, pushed up the window to kiss you off" - I've Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers

Folie à Deux

"Erase myself and let go, start it over again in Mexico" - I Don't Care

"Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess, I'm in love with my own sins" - America's Suitehearts

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet (title only)

"Plant palm trees on Lake Michigan before it gets cold" - The (Shipped) Gold Standard

"Said, 'I'll be fine 'til the hospital or American embassy'" - What A Catch, Donnie

"And you're a bottled star, the planets align, you're just like Mars" - 27

"A Roman candle heart, keep us far apart" - Tiffany Blews

"Have you ever wanted to disappear and join a monastery, go out and preach on Manic Street?" - 20 Dollar Nose Bleed

West Coast Smoker (title only)

"Got my degree in the gutter, my heart broken in the dorms of the Ivy League" - West Coast Smoker

Save Rock And Roll

"Did you trip down twelve steps into Malibu?" - The Mighty Fall

"Bel Air baby, did you get dressed up?" - The Mighty Fall

"But we are alive here in Death Valley, but don't take love off the table yet" - Death Valley

"When Rome's in ruins, we are the lions, free of the Colosseums" - Young Volcanoes

"Americana, exotica, do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby?" - Young Volcanoes

PAX AM Days

"Cargo and despair, all American made" - American Made

American Beauty/American Psycho

"You know you look so Seattle, but you feel so L.A." - Irresistible

"She's an American beauty, I'm an American psycho" - American Beauty/American Psycho

"Take me down the line, in Gem City, we turn the tide" - Uma Thurman

"In between being young and being right, you were my Versailles at night" - Fourth Of July

"There's a room in a hotel in New York City that shares our fate and deserves our pity" - Twin Skeleton's (Hotel In NYC)

MANIA

none

So Much (For) Stardust

Heaven, Iowa (title only)

"6 AM, Mulholland Drive, Moonlight Sonata and I" - Heaven, Iowa

Misc.

"I wanna put the Midwest home again" - Alpha Dog

"Sometimes, when I'm in Heaven, I get forgetful of the Earth" - Lake Effect Kid

"And joke us, joke us 'til Lakeshore Drive comes back into focus" - Lake Effect Kid

"I love you, Chicago, you make me feel so summer fling" - City In A Garden

"You know the world can get my bones, but Chicago gets my soul" - Super Fade

"Captain Planet, Arab Spring, L.A. riots, Rodney King" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Oklahoma City bomb, Kurt Cobain, Pokémon" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Nuclear accident, Fukushima, Japan / Crimean peninsula, Cambridge Analytica" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"More war in Afghanistan, Cubs go all the way again / Obama, Spielberg, explosion, Lebanon / Unabomber, Bobbitt, John, Bombing, Boston Marathon" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Stranger Things, Tiger King, Ever Given, Suez" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Elon Musk, Kaepernick, Texas failed electric grid" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Great Pacific garbage patch, Tom DeLonge and aliens / Mars rover, Avatar, self-driving electric cars" - We Didn't Start The Fire

[thekidsare-not-alright]

just how wild is tourdust, you ask? more than you could ever know

Patrick plays whatever fuck all song(s) he wants on piano every night

Spotlight (Oh Nostalgia)

MANIA song, The Last of the Real Ones, permanent fixture on the setlist

Crazy train and Don't Stop Believin covers

Joe giving away free signed copies of his book via hiding them in seats

Date/venue-exclusive lyric tshirts

Clandestine merch??

We Didn't Start the Fire updated Billy Joel cover

What A Catch, Donnie

Grimace shakes

Giant floating dog head lip syncing

Save Rock & Roll permanent on the setlist

New live deep cut every night, no patterns detected, no repeats, code names on the setlists, brought to you by a fucking magic 8 ball

ginasfs. live.

Is it Hum or Take Over tonight you don't get to know

Michael fuckin Way played bass for Fall Out Boy during Saturday 7/1 what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck fuck fuck fuck what the fuck what the fuck

prince and queen piano covers btw if you even care

Taylor Swift collab comes out next week can't wait for that collateral damage who knows what to expect

Calm Before the Storm permanent on the setlist

Pavlove about to be on spotify?

Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes every night.

btw this is the day after mikey liked a mcr5 tiktok

pete's magic trick idek

headfirst slide permanent fixture on the setlist in 2023 we made it happen

so many patrick hugs on stage

"spinning around you" *finger motion*

this is day 7

[rainsoftenings]

misericorde volume 2 spoilers/theorizing

-considering the outbreak of dancing mania in linbarrow proper, i feel like we are guaranteed to have at least ONE nun at the abbey come down with it. i do not think it will be darcy because she already passed 2 days with no symptoms; my money is on either moira or adela since they're the only named characters depicted thus far dancing with hedwig, assuming hedwig won't contract it herself. tatiana does say that "the infirmerer" is confirmed to die by one of the swords in the 1983 section; maybe it was a mercy killing -also very disturbing to me that when hedwig asks abt whether or not anyone at the abbey has slept with flora, the youngest member at 19 (but who honestly acts younger imo), margaret and adela both say they wouldn't and catherine didnt either because flora came to them as a young girl and felt like their collective daughter. but moira says yes. and moira was involved with catherine's inner circle, which would mean she's someone who couldve taught flora the transportation sigil AND about scapulimancy -thinking about the black hair conversation in the baths. obviously it signifies that moira is more melancholy than she lets on, but im also wondering idly if she might not also have jewish ancestry and therefore have sympathized with catherine for that. im also wondering if hedwig might be ethnically jewish too considering eustace's insistence that the reason she was sealed in her cell is some kind of scandal, but points against this are the fact that she can't read hebrew (although considering she was a very small child of unclear social status she may not have been able to read at all) and. i will be the first to admit that not only am i not jewish myself i dont actually know what the deal was with jews in the holy roman empire at this point in history but i DO remember them still being persecuted a century later in pentiment, so i assume nothing good. someone who DOES know, please feel free to fact check me on this. but the hints at drowning in her backstory/the overcrowded boat suggests to me refugees attempting to flee to another country by sea -i remember someone else pointing out that moira knows how to cleanly amputate limbs and therefore presumably heads. and i feel like her story not aligning with margaret and eustace's is probably her means of throwing hedwig off her trail. that being said, tatiana saying that her kindness being suspicious is "a bit pat" is true, but i also feel like if she is not the culprit outright she is at least way more involved than she lets on -catherine's head was removed postmortem, we never actually SEE her body but we know she actually bled out from the two smaller stab wounds in her neck and side. moira helped attend to and bury her body iirc. she could have easily removed her scapula at this point in time. conflicting evidence: the scapula could be the small piece of the former superior crushed by the clocktower that was supposedly buried in the abbey cemetery -IF the sigil is actually magic, im beginning to wonder whether or not the armor making up the barghest costume controls its wearer against their will. that being said despite the metafictional aspect wrt 80s tatiana and eustace im not going to lean into "explicitly supernatural" theories just yet. it just feels to me like they're pulling a reverse version of that letter at the beginning of the name of the rose claiming that adso's testimony came from a real document... that coincidentally no one can find -speaking of tnotr, i fucking called the library fire. i knew there would be one, it feels like a requirement for murder mysteries set in an abbey at this point. eco's influence... -i really dont like the implications of hedwig's dormitory bed pillow being wet after moira sleeps in it + the crumbs that hedwig doesnt remember leaving in her cell but doesnt think much of. i dont know what they could be yet but again i'm assuming nothing good -i found the transgender eustace reveal very amusing. i dont have any meaningful commentary on it i just think it was a very funny twist

-addendum bc i forgot to add it: i wonder if flora's little knife was the implement used to kill catherine. it's either that or angela's dagger (which she mentions went missing recently but as we know angela has a confirmed alibi) but im leaning toward moira using it to kill catherine and giving it to flora as a dual means of giving her what she needed to create the sigil and to dispose of the evidence

[zigcarnivorous]

🤠🎉YEEHAW WE GOT MATCH O MANIA RUNNIN WILD🐎🇵🇸

My dear friend Fidaa is a dedicated mother and a beautiful soul🪷She is so strong💪I can't describe. And she is even smarter than that!!🧠😳

Fidaa is struggling to even have good rest because she stays up with the sounds of bombs to comfort her children, tiny cupcake doll who loves animals🐶🧁Silaa and babyman Muhammad✊️.

The babyman himself is battling a fever right this moment! Fidaa is applying cool compresses and soothing him, she has an appointment for his medicine soon AND UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES CAN WE LET HER GO WITHOUT THE MONEY FOR THIS MEDICINE. Thank you for listening.

you may have seen me post about fidaa’s campaign @fidaa-family2 (this is a verified campaign)

graphic by @fading-event-608

fidaa is a 29 year old woman from gaza with two very young children, muhammed and sila, one of whom was born during the war. her home was destroyed and she’s been displaced many times, and is currently separated from the rest of her family- her husband, her many siblings, and her parents. i can only imagine how nerve-wracking this is.

she’s doing her best to take care of her children by herself, despite facing hunger, thirst, widespread disease, and the threat of death. the other day, there was intense bombing near her and another family close to her was killed. life in gaza right now is hell and she told me they feel like they are just waiting for their turn to die.

fidaa and i talk often, and i feel lucky to know her. she’s an incredibly strong person, she travels long distances to find limited supplies for her kids and helps her siblings raise money even though shes separated from them.

but she needs help. the situation in gaza is so bad right now, the idf is preventing aid from entering and the food, water, and medicine available are extremely expensive. please share and donate to help her and her children survive and eventually leave gaza

$18,738 out of $30,000

[thebluestpaintwater]

Golden Trio drabble

Silence filled the room, broken only by the crackling fire and labored breaths. 

“Merlin…This isn’t good..” Ron whispered, “This-this is really bad. Harry!” He grabbed a hold of Harry’s arm and shook it, as if he was oblivious to the fact of the situation. 

“Really?” the boy replied sarcastically. “What gave it away, the fire or the corpse?” Ron slapped Harry’s arm, but still his eyes never left Tom Riddle’s body. 

Catatonic Hermoine sat beside the boys. Before the encounter, she had tried to keep track of every worse-case scenario and plan to back it up. Somehow, it had never even crossed her mind that this would happen. 

“I don’t have a plan…” Her voice sounded steady, but the boys could tell from her face that she was anything but. “I… I can’t think of anything worse than this. Getting expelled seems like child’s play right now…” At the last part, Harry let out an inappropriate laugh, earning a sharp glare from Hermoine. 

“Don’t mean to ruin the current tranquility…” This time both Hermoine and Harry sent a glare towards Ron. “But…” He gulped audibly. “The fires spreading..” And true to his word, it was. Harry’s heart skipped a beat as Malfoy’s hair care potions went up in flames. If the dorm fire didn’t kill them, surely Abraxas would finish the job. 

“Oh, my god…We’re all going to Azkaban.” It only hit him now. If they were locked up, Malfoy wouldn’t have time to get to him. “Why would you think confronting Riddle during break was a good idea?”

“What!” Hermoine screeched. “It was Ron’s idea! Why are you blaming me?!” They pushed out of the common room portrait with haste. Thankful that the halls were empty. 

You should have stopped us!” Harry knew now wasn’t the time to fight. But he had to get rid of his left over adrenaline somehow. It was just as much his fault as it was hers…actually it was probably more his fault. 

“Oh, I’m sorry if my thinking was affected after being sent back in time!She pulled boys’ empty classroom dungeons. 

“What if we pin the blame on someone else? Get away Scott free!” Ron suggested, but the mania in his voice was too high for them to take it with any seriousness. 

“Don’t be stupid Ronald! Only Riddle, Harry and I stayed over during Christmas break. We’d be first suspects!” It then became apparent to both Hermoine and Ron that Harry looked like he was gonna puke. 

“I can’t believe it, a cutting curse took Voldemort down…” Hermoine put her hand on his shoulder in concern, but he shrugged it off and instead grabbed her by the shoulders. “A cutting curse Hermoine! Snapes stupid fucking cutting curse! I killed someone!” He fell to his knees, bringing Hermoine with him. She froze for a second before gathering him into her arms. 

There were no tears in his eyes, but still his body shook, grabbing the girl’s robes with strength, eyes squeezed shut. Ron kneeled down next to them, putting his hand on Harry’s back. 

“It’s not your fault.” He whispered, even though from every perspective, it kind of was. “And we all contributed, if I didn’t push him, or if Hermoine didn’t use Incendio to get him off you. You’re not alone in this.” Harry didn’t respond, but after a minute, his shoulders stopped shaking, so Ron took it as a win. 

“We’ll figure this out, even if we have to go back to camping out in the woods, moving from place to place.” Hermoine pulled Ron into their hug. “We’re all in this together.” 

[inkedbydave]

Man, being unemployed left an irreversible and pretty much negative impact on my day to day life. Cause I'm not even kidding right now, as soon as I had all the free time in the world I started spiraling. I'm working on like 20+ projects at the same time, and surprise surprise, I don't finish any of them. I barely sleep and everything revolves around Ty and other TDA characters.

So for the record, I'm a high functioning autistic individual, I got diagnosed early on, at age 11. But here's the tricky part, I'm also diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder but often experience mania due to stress or intense emotions as a crossover symptom with Bipolar.

And you know what happens when you're manic and experiencing hyperfixation? Can you imagine that? Symptoms of mania -or in my current case, hypomania- like feelings of restlesness, insomnia, impulsive thoughts and obsessive thinking with a delirious state of mind paired with the intensity of a hyperfixation? Yeah. Total chaos. I barely left my house since I got fired, which was btw, 3 weeks ago. I don't interact with anyone but my twin. And I've developed a serious parasocial relationship with these characters. I even compare my real life relationships to them. And I have detailed, like a super detailed pictures of all of them in my head compared with a voice, everything. Like they're my actual friends. And I can't focus on anything outside of them. I find myself rereading the books over and over again. I made a detailed character analysis on each of them. And as much as I try to focus on other books, or atleast books from the same universe, I just can't get myself to pay attention to anything else.

Like I tried playing with my comfort games for a change, and guess what? Now I have a detailed The Last of Us 2 AU with KitTy. Like I just can't escape it.

At this point I'm just waiting for a psychotic break where I actually get to talk to them lmao. (I was obviously joking but in case you were wondering, that is possible. Mania is often followed by psychosis and you'd be actually surprised how often totally normal people fall into fiction induced psychosis, and individuals with BPD are more likely to experience those symptoms)

Oh and I have meds prescribed, I just refuse to take them because I feel like they make me less creative, more withdrawn and even light-headed with additional brain fog when I'm on a higher dose. And I hate that state, I value collecting data and information and constantly expanding my world view with theories but medication makes me feel like a robot, like I'm just existing in an empty, emotionless state of mind, mindlessly completing tasks.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 35

There's no way to get out of this situation that doesn't involve setting foot on this island, so you decide to bite the figurative bullet and step off your boat. A quick survey of the impact sight shows no significant damage to your vessel - for a small little ship, it sure has proven to be a sturdy thing. Unfortunately, it's wedged into the bank really good, which means moving it will be a problem.

Of course, if this were a normal island, you could just focus on that problem, but since it is so clearly a monster in disguise, you have to make sure you don't rouse the sleeping beast as well. Taking a calculated risk, you walk around the outskirts of the "island," trying to make sure it's stable, asleep, and not hiding any threats you haven't noticed yet.

From a quick, cursory survey, the island seems to be pretty barren. No storks pretending to be trees, no weird birdy things, no hidden threats, just the giant spikes of whatever aquatic horror is hiding beneath the sand. You briefly try to convince yourself they're just rocks, and that this is a normal desert island that you don't have to be wary of, but looking at the damn things gives the ghost away. They're spikes, they're so clearly spikes, and try as you might you just can't live in denial about it.

What sort of monster is it, you wonder. The spikes kind of remind you of those old Japanese monster movies you used to watch when TBT did its Monster Mania Movie Marathon back when you were a kid, the ones that starred that big fire-breathing dinosaur. Or was it a turtle? A dinosaur turtle. That's probably not what this thing is, but the idea entertains you for a moment.

Whatever the creature is, it's seems to be content to lay still and continue its ruse. You wonder if it even notices you're here - there's a lot of sand on its back (presuming the sand isn't physically a part of it) to cushion your footfalls, so it may well have no idea there's a tasty little morsel crawling around on its back.

You return to your ship feeling a bit less panicky. There isn't an immediate threat to deal with at the moment, which means your back to one problem, albeit a tricky one: how do you free your boat without getting this creature's attention?

[blackjackkent]

Pushing north from the necromantic laboratory through the other corridors of the mind flayer colony, Rakha and her companions arrive in a long hallway lined with illithid pods.

"Mind flayers and civilians, side by side..." murmurs the guardian. "This must be where they infect and transform those they kidnap."

"This place," Minthara intones solemnly, "has been used to make slaves of those who should be masters."

Rakha shoots her a sideways look. Did Minthara inhabit one of these pods, once? Is that how she found the tadpole in her head and a commanding role over the Absolute's army of goblins at Moonhaven?

She remembers the pod on the nautiloid. Her earliest clear memory - staggering free of it to the smell of smoke and burning flesh and hot metal. The pain in her head and behind her eye. The blind terror of knowing nothing, nothing at all - not where she was, not who she was, not what had happened or what would happen...

At least she is not there anymore. She has Wyll next to her, and Lae'zel and Minthara. She has the guardian in her pocket. She knows some things - not many, but more. She's not alone...

She taps the control panel in front of one of the pods. Then another, and another. Memories flow through her, fragmented images left from those who have been tadpoled and transformed inside these devices.

Narrator: Courage... conviction... defiance. Even as her organs began to dissolve, she believed she could resist.

Narrator: Delirium... mania... laughter. His mind broke before the end, and he was laughing uncontrollably as the skin fell from his face.

Narrator: Desperation... pain... terror. Cultists raided his village. He was the sole survivor.

Narrator: Amusement... curiosity... fascination. He believed the horrors of Moonrise to be a fleeting dream that would fade on waking.

Narrator: Your lungs burn with the dry heat of the fires raging about you, but the pain is not enough to diminish your swing. one goblin after another falls to your blade. A man's voice cries out through the thick smoke. 'Ravengard!', you call, but the clang of swords and the spell-shouts of attacking drow are your only reply.

Narrator: This pod pulsates with the angry memories of Ravengard's search officer, Manip Shuurga. She laments her failure to locate him.

She slows in her movements. These last two have some resonance of familiarity. Images of the burning village near the nautiloid - Waukeen's Rest. The place where Wyll's father was taken. These people were there, and inside the pods, unlike the others, they are still alive, not illithid. Perhaps they know where he is. If she can open the pods--

"Zevlor," she hears Wyll say behind her, and the dismay in his voice distracts her from everything else.

"What?" she asks, and turns--

The teeth-ling leader from the Grove. The one Cerys said froze and betrayed them all in the cursed dark. He sits still alive in one of the pods; his head thrashes from side to side as if caught in the grip of some terrible nightmare.

Rakha brushes her fingers over the console in front of him.

Narrator: You remember the shattered windows of Elturel's High Cathedral, the burning black sky of Avernus beyond. In its horror, the Blood War unites you. Tiefling, dwarf, and elf alike huddle behind the shields of your paladin order, waiting for salvation. But when it comes... disunity. The returned city casts your people out - the devils who dragged them down to hell. In the end, it is not your paladin oath that is broken. It is your faith itself.

The images are fractured and dark and layered through with a great deal of pain. Bits and pieces of the memory tie into the small amount Zevlor told them of the teeth-lings' history. A city dragged into the hells. An exile afterwards.

She examines the final control panel in the room.

Narrator: Your tadpole forms a telepathic connection with the device, and a chorus of static energy fills your mind. Every mind flayer in the room calls out hungrily from its pod, seeking release - and sustenance. But there are others in the pods - those not yet infected, not yet illithid. Terrified. Desperate to escape. The device is open to your tadpole's command. To your authority.

(A/N: I love the way the narrator says that last bit. It's clear she's realized that au-thor-ity is basically a meme part of her narration by this point in the game. XD )

Lae'zel hisses warily. "Ghaik machinery. Cold as the Sea of Night, alien as time to the Astral Plane. Avert your eyes. Close your mind."

Perhaps under other circumstances, Rakha would listen and turn away. Even after all this time and the things that have rocked their friendship to its core, she still wants to trust Lae'zel's guidance in almost everything.

But Lae'zel didn't see that imagery, the memories from those in the pods. These people might know what became of Wyll's father. Rakha can't turn away from that. The things Wyll needs here are as important to her as her own goals.

More so, maybe...

Release.

Besides, she thinks, with deeply muted black humor as the pods begin to slide open, those that are already transformed... we can kill.

[jawz-idk]

My opinion and rankings of every Sonic Game, I will list every game down below in case you can't read the titles

(it goes from right to left)

Superstars wasn't on this list but it would be at the bottom of good

Yes, I think Unleashed is not only my favorite Sonic game but also my favorite game, ever, I know that's a pretty hot take but... I'm hot so idc ✨

Black Knight is so underrated yall, story is S tier Ost is one of the best and the gameplay is pretty fun, give it a try

Stay safe.

And yes I think the very first Sonic game (Sonic The Hedgehog 1) is shit... I'm sorry it was great for 1991, but now? Unplayeble in my opinion

This is all my opinions, if you disagree tell me why! Meeting people who agree with you is fun... BUT FIGHTING IS BETTER :>

The games:

Peak: Sonic Unleashed

The elit: Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic And The Black Knight

S tier: Sonic Generations (my beloved 💛), Sonic Mania, Sonic Adventure, Sonic Colors, Sonic Cd(eez nuts)

Great: Sonic Frontiers, Sonic The Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles, Sonic Riders (2nd best racing game of all times)

Good: Sonic Lost World, Sonic Rush, Sonic Heroes (mid asf I'm sorry), Sonic advance 3, Sonic Dash (unicronicaly a banger), Sonic Advance, Sonic The Hedgehog 2, Sonic 06

Meh... : Sonic Chronicles: and thé dark brotherhood (I am the only person who has played this game ever I swear to god lmao) Sonic Riders Zero Gravity, Sonic Advance 2, Shadow The Hedgehog

Shit: Sonic And The Secret Ring, Sonic The Hedgehog, Sonic Racing, Sonic 3D BLAST, Sonic The Hedgehog 4 episode 1 & 2

The shit eating elit: Sonic Free Riders, Sonic Forces (what a constipation this game was) and Sonic Boom Rise Of Lyric

Never Played (oh god here we go):

Sonic The Hedgehog 1 & 2 for the master systheme, Sonic Chaos, Sonic Pinball, Sonic Drift, Sonic Triple Troubles (really gotta play the fan remake of that one), Knuckles Chaotix (seems good), Sonic Drift 2, Sonic Labyrinth, Sonic Blast, Sonic The Fighter (genuinely we need another Sonic fighting game), Sonic Pocket Adventure, Sonic Shuffle, Sonic Pinball Party (how many Sonic pinball games are there WTF?!) Sonic battle, Sonic Rivals, Sonic Rivals 2, Sonic All Stars Racing, Sonic Colors for the Nintendo DS, Sonic Generations for the 3DS, Sonic Jump, Sonic All Stars Racing Transformation, Sonic Lost World for the 3DS, Sonic Jump Fever, Sonic Boom Shattered Crystal, Sonic Runners, Sonic Dash 2: Sonic Boom (wtf is that), Sonic Boom Fire and Ice, Sonic Runners Adventure, Sonic Forces Speed Battles, Team Sonic Racing

I hate this

Stay safe.

[rippedstitch-s]

S C O R C H E D E A R T H .

Below the cut is a moment in the life of ASA HOLLAND, in his 4th floor apartment in Manhattan.

Please be aware of all trigger warnings before proceeding.

tw // murder, blood, gore, torture mention, medical malpractice

--- - -- --

Scorched earth.

His ribs are a burning church and the devil's set it on fire.

But the same hands pouring the kerosene are the ones that chase away the fumes. Tug his heart free and out just in time. Crisped by the lick of the flame, but alive.

Very much alive.

Too alive.

He feels everything too much.

It's a burden, now.

He yearns and aches and the pangs are now bullets. He staggers from each shot, but he stands. Leaning and frail, dripping black ichor onto a ceaseless floor.

Still stands.

There is blackness behind his eyes now. The shine of light, the reflection of sweetness, has faded like a candle burnt for too long.

The wick's been doused out in its own hot wax.

Consumed and encased.

Consumed is a good word for it - the way he’s trapped in mania. The enticing fingers of long shadows, the snapshot of puddles of blood. It's scorched into retinas.

Red likes to filter over his vision like he’s sitting in that darkroom. The photos hung in the darkness are unintelligible- just as black as everything else. Maybe bodies, maybe parts, but disembodied.

Every face is blotted into smudges like charcoal.

An illustrator sees art in the slaughtered and mangled. In the gnarled scab across his chest, the twisted fingers beneath ink and bandage. 

And absolutely in the demon who kisses and cleans him.

A lover who brings him to fever, then wipes his sweat-stained brow. Drains the bad blood from his body in his sickbed.

Medicinal, the comfort it brings.

Depraved, the thoughts it tugs through.

It's chiaroscuro; the shadows deep within the planes of his lover's face - dark, bold blots, no light until suddenly there's plenty. Whereas in his own, the cross-hatching of fine ink across Asa's nose, mouth, cheeks. Thin lines in meticulous detail. The building up of shade.

Forms of black and white, so different but a similar medium. fit for a gallery, perhaps a museum. 

Meant to be studied, really.

It’s in this creativity that his mania sits and holds out its hands. As the scratchy lines come in a fervor from charcoals and pastels, as blood drips from a lip bitten too hard and for too long in concentration. 

The mania smiles, and collects his pieces into an embrace.

It’s not too hard to connect the twisted body of his father scrawled on drafting paper to the ink blot that grows around him. 

Abysm, after abysm, after abysm. 

But with its arms it becomes...

Still. So still.

There’s no buzzing and pounding in his head. The oil spill has coated everything and muted it all in molasses. 

It's floating. No pain.

No pleasure, either. It just... is.

A finger finally traces the blood that’s streaked into graphite and chalky dust, realizing it’s there for the first time.

Thick, sap-like on his fingers as he traces another drop and watches it peter out into nothing. A streak of alizarin crimson - an artist's palette. Acrylics. Oils.

Such material is easy enough to find, if he wants it. If he searches for it. The texture is far better than most paints.

It's so still.

Has the clock stopped ticking on the wall, or is he deep in a state again? Is it the batteries, or is he... batty?

....he didn't used to be, did he?

It's his father's fault. In his hopes of avoiding his son's insanity, he ensured it and came face to face with it.

Conor Holland died for his crimes against his son. As he should have.

Dr. Hartley. Torture. Medical malpractice. Defunct equipment. Killed. As he should have been.

Romeo Valtori. Apartment manager... rude. Misogynistic. Disgusting. Killed as well. Goodbye.

Maybe it's not so difficult to find people who deserve it. Just squint and there they are.

Laid out in funny little rows.

More red for a palette. More bodies for the ink blot on the kaleidoscope. More peace, more stillness.

A win win.

The church's charred remains fall. Debris everywhere. An explosion of fire and brimstone.

Yet his heart beats, thrums in the hands of a killer. A lover. He holds it so carefully for someone so cruel.

A ribcage can be rebuilt - the church can be reconstructed.

And the burning just smells like winter, and hydroquinone, and a night wrapped in silk sheets.

Peace. Stillness.