#I KNOW i'm supposed to suspend my disbelief and I KNOW this is set in a pseudo-50/60s east/west germany analogue

[voidartisan]

okay I know realistically the author of spy x family probably just doesn't know that much about the professional ethics of the mental health field and doesn't expect other people to either (and/or Japan has different standards) but it's driving me NUTS that Loid just??? casually accepted a woman who is PUBLICLY KNOWN to be good friends with his wife and the mother of one of his daughter's classmates as a patient. if Westalia has anything CLOSE to the APA ethics code as a legal standard for psychiatrists all anyone who wants to get in the way of his mission has to do is point one of his coworkers in the right direction and they would be LEGALLY OBLIGATED to report him for multiple relationships!!!! which would almost certainly open up an investigation and if anyone talked to Melinda and she mentioned anything about the "concussive therapy" that he's been using as an excuse!!! there goes his license!!!!

THIS IS NOT WORTH THE RISK LOID

[jesterjaxx]

The aforementioned djuncan kids drabble i wrote after me and egg were talking about Duncan secretly wanting kids like really bad

its very self indulgent and kinda cringe😭

♡♡♡

"Dude, you're gonna be the death of me," Duncan groaned, collapsing onto the couch with a bag of chips he jaggedly ripped open.

"What did I do this time?" DJ asked innocently, not even bothering to look up from the TV.

Duncan rolled his eyes as he settled into the cushions, stretching his legs out onto the crowded coffee table. "It's not what you did. It's what you didn't do."

DJ's eyes flicked over, curiosity piqued. "And what's that supposed to mean?" He nudged Duncans thigh with his knee chidingly and Duncan removed his legs to kick his shoes off before putting them back on the table.

Duncan took a deep breath, crunching a chip between his teeth. "You know, you're always so...so...good to me, DJ," he grumbled, avoiding eye contact. "It's like you're made of sunshine or something. You're all nice and considerate and shit. You dont even yell when your mad 'cause you think its mean or whatever." He complained as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

DJ chuckled, setting down the remote. "Thanks, I think?" He leaned over, peering into the bag. "You gonna share?"

"Yeah, sure," Duncan mutters, pushing the chips closer. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he took another deep breath before continuing. "But it's just...I don't know, man. Sometimes I see you with the animals we're always rescuing, or the way you talk about the kids that come into your clinic, and it just...it hits me."

DJ glanced over, his hand hovering over the bag. "What hits you?"

Duncan took a moment, staring at the TV without really seeing it. "You're just so...so nurturing, you know? And it makes me feel all...weird inside."

DJ leaned in, his curiosity growing. "Weird how?"

Duncan shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just...you know, like, baby fever or something."

DJ's eyebrows shot up. "Baby fever?" He echoed, his voice filled with amusement as he popped another chip in his mouth, looking back at the TV.

Duncan drummed his fingers agaisnt his leg, his cheeks reddening further. "Yeah, I know it's stupid." He took another chip, trying to ignore the sudden weight in the air pressing into him. "It's just, every little thing you do, it makes me think...what if?"

DJ paused, chewing slowly, Duncan sounded a bit... almost shy actually. He didnt look like he was doing a bit like DJ had assumed either. DJs eyebrows quirked in curiosity.

DJ sat up, his eyes searching Duncan's face. He hadn't seen this side of him before, and it was a bit jarring. "What if what?"

Duncan sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "...What if we had a kid together?" He mumbled it so quietly that it was almost lost in the sound of the TV.

DJ's hand stilled mid-air, a chip suspended between the bag and his mouth. "What?" He blinked, certain he'd misheard.

Duncan grumbled, his eyes still glued to the TV. "You heard me."

DJ sat back, processing this new piece of information. "Duncan," he began, his voice measured, "are you saying you want to have a kid with me?"

Duncan groaned and threw a chip at him, not looking away from the TV. "I'm just saying it's a thought that's been kicking around in my head, okay?" he said defensively, face hot. "I didn't say I was going to start knitting baby booties or anything."

The chip bounced off DJ's nose, and he stared at Duncan in disbelief before bursting into laughter. "You're ridiculous," he said, shaking his head. "But also kind of adorable when you get all flustered."

"Shut up," Duncan groused, throwing another chip. This one hit its target, landing in DJ's open mouth. He chewed, still chuckling.

DJ swallowed, tilting his head. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Duncan sighed, finally meeting his gaze. "I don't know. Maybe. It's just a...a feeling, you know?"

DJ nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah... I get it," he said gently. "It's a big deal, though. Kids are a huge responsibility."

Duncan grunted in agreement. "I know that, DJ. Believe me, I know. It's just..." He huffed, "I honestly really like the idea of 'em, and you make me feel like I could do it. Like, we could do it together." He admitted.

DJ's smile grew, his eyes warm. "You think so?"

Duncan nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I do." He took another deep breath, bracing himself for DJ's reaction as he waved a hand casually. "But it's cool if you don't want to, I was just saying—"

"Duncan, hey" DJ interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. "I think it's sweet." His smile was soft, his voice soothing. "Really, I do."

Duncan's eyes searched DJ's face, looking for any sign of mockery or dismissal. Finding none, he relaxed slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," DJ confirmed, his hand giving Duncan's arm a gentle squeeze. "I mean, it's not something we should jump into without really thinking it through, and we'd definitely have to wait for while, but it's not the worst idea."

Duncan snorted. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

DJ leaned back into the couch cushions, his hand still on Duncan's arm. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, his tone light. "You've just...got a bit of a reputation for being, well, less than reliable."

Duncan's eyes narrowed, but he didn't pull away, "Less than reliable?"

DJ pursed his lips, "Well-"

"You don't think I'd make a good father?" He guessed from DJ's words, his voice a mix of defensiveness and hurt, memories of a certain ex's parting words flashing through his head.

DJ sighed, recognizing the misunderstanding. "That's not it, Duncan," he said gently, his grip on Duncan's arm tightening slightly, grounding. "I know you'd love any kid we had. I don't think you'd be a totally terrible dad or anything. You're just...you know, not exactly the poster boy for stability. And kids need stability."

Duncan's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. It was true. His history of screw-ups and lack of commitment was a well-documented fact, especially on the show. But he felt like he'd changed, like DJ had brought out the best in him. "I've been better," he murmured. "I've been trying."

DJ nodded. "I know you have, and that matters a lot to me, and I'm proud of you. But I'm just saying, let's not rush into anything, okay?" He squeezed Duncan's arm again, his eyes earnest. "We've got our whole lives ahead of us. We have time to grow and think about it when we're better... equipped."

Duncan nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. He hadn't really expected DJ to jump at the idea, but he couldn't deny the delusional part of him that had hoped. He took another chip and munched on it thoughtfully. "I guess you're right," he said, his voice a bit more subdued.

The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the low hum of the TV. Then, DJ spoke up again. "But, if we ever do decide to take that step, I'm with you."

Duncan's eyes slid back to DJ, hope flickering across his features. "You actually want that? Not just saying that to shut me up?" He said warningly.

DJ nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "If it's what you want too, then yeah. I think we could be good at it. I love kids."

Without a second thought, Duncan launched himself at DJ with a grin, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. The bag of chips spilled onto the floor, forgotten as Duncan's heart hammered in his chest. He hadn't expected the conversation to go this way, but he wasn't about to argue with it.

DJ's eyes widened in surprise before he started to laugh, his arms instinctively going around Duncan's waist. "What's gotten into you?" he gasped out, his voice threaded with amusement.

"You," Duncan said bluntly, his breath hot against DJ's neck. "I'm fucking obsessed with you." He said it so softly that it was almost lost in the fabric of DJ's shirt.

DJ's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around Duncan, holding him close. "I know," he whispered back, his voice thick with affection.

They stayed like that for a moment, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air between them. Then, Duncan pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eye. "So, you'll get me pregnant, then?"

DJ rolled his eyes, but the smile didn't leave his face. "You know it doesn't work that way, Duncan."

Duncan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Humor me, then."

DJ chuckled, pushing Duncan back playfully. "You're insatiable, you know that?"

Duncan flopped back onto the couch, his grin not wavering. "What can I say? You're irresistible."

DJ rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck. He leaned back into the couch, his arm hooking around Duncans legs to pull them onto his lap. "You're such a flirt," he teased, poking at Duncan's calf.

Duncan just grinned, his eyes locked onto DJ's. "I mean it, though," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "You make me want to be better. To be the kind of person who could be a good dad."

DJ studied him for a moment before leaning over and grabbing Duncan's hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. "You're so dramatic," he said, his voice filled with affection.

Duncan's shit eating grin didn't falter. "I'm serious, DJ," he insisted. "Get me a baby right now."

DJ's laugh was incredulous as he dropped Duncan's hand. "How?" he exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. "How do you even think that's a realistic— No, man."

"Thats fine then, I'll just fuckin steal one." Duncan nudged DJs chest with the side of his foot teasingly, doing it again harder at the utter lack of reaction.

DJ rolled his eyes as he caught Duncans foot before it could connect with a real kick. "You cannot just steal a baby."

Duncan's eyes brighted in mischief as he gestured with his hand, "No but I can. They just leave those things out and about man, you ever see a stroller?"

"I am not helping you raise a baby you steal off the street." DJ said with as much seriousness as he could grasp without breaking.

Duncan groaned dramatically, letting his head fall back agaisnt the cushions. His brain kept snagging on the way DJs thumb was tracing circles on the skin of his ankle and it was really distracting him from making his case for how easily he could pocket a kid.

He sighed, trying to expell the fluttering feeling in his chest to no avail.  He pulled his legs out of DJ's loose grasp as he got up, stepping over the spilled chips. He'd clean it up later. Probably. One of the dogs might beat him to it.

DJ's eyes widened slightly as Duncan settled onto his lap, his hands on DJ's cheeks, his thumbs tracing the outline of his lips. "Duncan, what—"

But Duncan didn't give him a chance to finish. He leaned in and kissed him, cutting off his protest with a passionate press of his lips. DJ's arms automatically wrapped around Duncan's waist, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. He could feel the heat of Duncan's body through their clothes, the rapid beat of his heart.

Duncan pulled back with a smug grin, "You really like me, huh?"

DJ blinked, confused but not complaining about a lapful of his boyfriend, "Uh, yeah? I love you."

DJ said it so easily it pissed Duncan off. The feelings in his own chest were loud and blinding and sharp, and he could never really trap them into words like DJ could. Some sick and numb feeling barricade always stopped him.

Duncan hummed instead, and loosely draped his arms over DJs shoulders, fingers brushing the wall behind the couch. "I wanna have kids with you." He repeated quietly, face warm but voice firm.

DJs cheeks grew hot at the intense look Duncan was giving him and he laughed shakily, fingers digging into Duncans shirt, "This is going to become a thing with you, isn't it?"

Duncans grin was sharp, "Probably, yeah."

(Fuxk thats it idk how to end this)

[bloomeng]

I really dislike that Wei Wuxian and Mo look the same. Like on a fundamental character design level it’s just bad design, though it does save money, but what it compromises is storytelling. The first time I tried to watch the mdzs donghua I was so confused because the things characters were saying about wwx didn’t line up with what I was seeing. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t suspend my disbelief I fully didn’t understand that these were supposed to be a difference between wwx and Mo. I actually stopped watching and went to go read the unofficially translated novel. (Which, for a fan project was remarkable, but man I really appreciate the luxury of the officially translated novels now.) Reading the novel I understood better, but being new to the genre I remember being confused as to why this major plot detail ultimately served no purpose other than to bring wwx back.

Well, actually it did serve one other purpose and that was to make wwx more… fuckable. Like now that we’re kicking off the romance plot he needs to be shorter than Lan Wangji, more frail, more feminine. Wei Wuxian in life was tall, athletic, notably strong, but when he comes back he look exactly the same yet he’s significantly shorter, weaker, and in the body of a known gay man. These are all such deliberate choices. It adds this heteronormative shade to their relationship that seems to be common in the bl genre, that I really dislike. This is further emphasized by the canon sex scenes. (Note: I’m not against the sex scenes on principle, nor do I think the sex scenes imply gender norms on their own. Personally I don't care for them and I have my own complaints, but the technicalities aren't what I'm concerned with.) Altogether it lays out a pattern that annoys me. I'm not calling mxtx homophobic or implying some dramatic moral thing, I just found it disappointing.

In general I always kinda thought that the murder mystery plot flattened out wwx. The amount of trauma he experienced, his death alone, then immediately having his past thrown in his face as soon as he’s back, you’d think he’d have bigger reactions. I know he’s the type to swallow his pain and deflect but the tone through most of the novel set in the present seemed fairly light hearted. It was stressful at times but it had a high emphasis on the romantic plot. And the romance itself isn’t an issue, it’s the lack of character that’s missing from wwx that I find strange. It’s always been weird to me that he’s as passive as he is through the mystery. The literal climax of the novel isn’t even about him it’s centered on jgy and lxc. Wwx’s biggest emotional beat is his love confession that despite the circumstances was very cutesy. Why did we have to drain him of his internal struggles?

[raconabhorrent]

been fascinated with Finding Frankie today and while I definitely think there's a lot to praise about the game and the story and the characters,, i'm also hella confused as to WHY (not what) things in the story were happening...

not saying it needs like HELLA lore like Poppy Playtime or an ARG like Amanda the Adventurer or smth but even if u think about the story of the game as completely self-contained (as in, it has no effect on the universe it resides within),, some of the things that happen happen for no reason other than they were written that way??? which, again,, isn't a bad thing,, but i'd def like to see some of the plot threads introduced in the game developed more if they do end up making sequels...

!!! SPOILERS AHEAD !!!

things like,, why are there two frankies??? why is one evil (capitalism) and the other one just tries to stomp on you?? why are the mascots sentient or whatever??? were they built like that??? do they have human something inside them (human organs, human soul, etc.) or are they just inanimate objects that have their own consciousnesses of some kind????

who started the game show? who's running it? who created the mascots? who are the people watching the streams? does the government know or is this like squid games? how have they not gone bankrupt previously? how have the police not been notified BEFORE of hundreds of people dying before you arrive?

what is the player's motivation for being a contestant? it seems like your character tried really hard to get that vhs tape... why does frankie get mad at you for "ruining his fucking gameshow" and then turn around when you somehow survive falling into the incinerator (which,, what??? did you use the grindrails?? is that even the player???) and be like "omg let's be business partners buddy"???

how parkour physics work?? (i can suspend my disbelief on this one the most, honestly),, HOW IS THIS FACILITY RUNNING??? IS FRANKIE RUNNING THE WHOLE THING??? are there humans behind the whole operation that you're not seeing?? who called the polices???? why do they never bring that up again??? WHAT IS A NOOB NOOB?!?!??!1 why do they explode why do they do a little dance when ur chasing them why do they have blood inside them i'm assuming its blood cus all the supposed blood in this game is black is it dried?? is it old blood??? is it stylized?? is it ichor of some kind??? what??

maybe my tendency to overthink is getting carried away here,, probably,, but i def want to understand more about this setting bc there's so much that can be done with it, even if it's explained away with silly cartoon logic or something.

[crepe-of-wrath]

Serial Shouta Saturday (1/2)

notes/warnings: 18+, fem reader; this scenario will absolutely not get out of my fucking head, I'm so sorry; this is also a two-parter that wraps up next week (I PROMISE) so I'm extra sorry; unrealistic undercover AU scenario that exists for no other purpose but to set up dom daddy vibes Shouta; lots of Daddy and kitten in this one; this is your last warning: either join me in suspending disbelief about the technical details of undercover work/crime that I have surely missed, or wait until I get this out of my system

You got out of the expensive car and instinctively moved to tug at the hem of your extremely short and revealing mini-dress.

A large, strong hand grabbed your wrist and yanked it up.

"Now, now sweet kitten, none of that. You know I like it when everyone else has to look at what they can't touch."

"I'm sorry, Daddy." You leaned into him to hide your blush. It was still hard for you to use that word. You wondered if news stations reported on things like that. Goodness, you hoped not. It already had to be destroying your mother and father to think that their little girl was the moll of the man everyone thought was the city's newest major crime boss, but knowing that you called that man "daddy" might actually kill them.

Eraser Head gently lifted your hand to his lips, and gave it the lightest kiss. "It's OK, angel. You're very cute when you're my shy little good girl."

There was a pause. Then he mouthed, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Daddy," you said in the softest, most docile voice you could muster.

Eraser Head kept his arm tight around your waist as the doormen waved you both in. The hostess darted her eyes toward his usual corner, and he escorted you to your regular booth. There were three men already seated, clearly cranky. You wondered how late you and Eraser were for the meeting; he delighted in making people wait for him.

"Gentlemen," he said, acknowledging them with a slight dip of the head, "forgive me." They obviously didn't, and he knew they didn't, but he continued. "I believe you've all met my darling little kitten before. Say hello again to the nice men, kitten."

"Good evening, sirs," you said, following it up with some quick bows. As they returned your greeting, the three men looked at him with expectation and fear. You guessed that made sense: people who acted in unpredictable ways were scary. And, as far as these men knew, Eraser Head was a murderous madman who had cut off his own fucking leg. Pretty unpredictable.

On this evening, Eraser chose to laugh. The men did too, but in that fake and forced way that one might laugh when there is a gun pointed at one's head.

He took his seat and roughly pulled you into the booth after him, immediately making quite a show of moving his hand underneath the hem of your skimpy little dress so he could start fondling your ass and thighs. He closed his eye and hummed with delight. The men across from you were clearly bewildered.

Eventually, he gave you a little pinch.

"Daddy!" you protested, and even you were surprised by how all the training you had done had sunk in: you were now instinctively using the higher-pitched, soft, vulnerable voice you had developed for this character.

Eraser leaned down and kissed your nose. "I'm sorry, kitten," he said, moving his hand back up to your waist. "How am I supposed to help myself?"

There was the most awkward silence until he spoke again. "Gentlemen," he said, "is what you have to tell me more interesting that my beautiful little angel here?"

It only took a few moments for you both to realize that yes, what these men had to say was very interesting. You leaned into Eraser, trying not to be distracted by how hot his body was, or how hot he looked with his eyepatch and his hair up, or by his hands, which were wandering all over you, because, now that they were speaking, it was time for you to work.

Compared to past eras, the newest generations of heroes had a disproportionately large number--Mindjack and Maboromicamie were probably the best known--of people whose quirks were not rooted in physical prowess. These heroes had been able to exploit familiar doctrines and strategies and both hero and villain alliances were still scrambling to adjust.

As part of their larger response, the HPSC had recruited you. Quirkless you. Hyperthymesic you. Scans could detect Quirks, but no scan on earth could detect the power of your memory. You could remember everything about every day of your life going back to your earliest years. Who was in a room, where you were, what happened at what time...what was said. A bit of training transformed you into the ultimate stealth recording weapon. You had become Eraser Head's new "girlfriend" about five months ago, and the two of you had been gathering information for Detective Tsukauchi ever since.

As Eraser continued conversing with the men, he started fondling your neck, stroking it with his thumb, squeezing it in ways that made you gasp and feel fuzzy-headed. There was a part of you that was very ashamed by this, but it really turned you on when he touched you like that, and you started making the most imperceptible little sighs and even running your hands over his own body. He grunted back in appreciation. The man who was talking to him stopped.

"Continue," said Eraser. "But be warned, you are now becoming far less interesting than precious little kitten here."

They talked for about fifteen more minutes, and, by the time Eraser Head abruptly ended the conversation, the hand that he had been using to cradle his drink for most of the evening had wandered so far up your thighs that he was practically fingering you. This may have been a response to your own hands, which had wandered all the way down his chest, and, well, maybe you had brushed against his cock along the way.

Eraser paraded you out of the establishment slowly, making a big show of it, but he was straining to control himself in a way you had never seen before. He practically pushed you into the car before barking, "HOME" at the driver and putting up the privacy screen.

You were laying down on the car's bench seat and he settled himself on top of you, leaning in very close. Knowing you were trapped under him was the most exhilarating and arousing thing.

"You had wandering hands tonight, kitten." His voice was even deeper than it usually was, and it was full of dangerous promises.

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"I don't think you are, kitten. I think you wanted to be a naughty girl and distract me." He forced his knee between your legs as he gently stroked your face.

"Daddy?" You looked up at him unsure. Was this all still part of the game, the act?

"Yes, Kitten?" He rolled his hips, grinding into your body. He was hard. Not an act. Not a game.

You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. "More, Daddy," you said softly. "I need more. Please, Daddy?"

He started to roll his hips again, so very, very slowly. When you tried to buck up your own hips to meet him, he roughly forced you back down and hissed, "You should have stayed still, my little kitten. Just for that, I'm going to start over again."

You thought you were going to die if you didn't have his powerful pressure hitting all your most sensitive places soon, but you laid still while he started over.

Just as he was about to give you what you craved, the car stopped. Were you at "your" building already?

Eraser Head's hand cupped your breast, drawing out a gasp that couldn't help but definitively confirm how turned on you were.

He placed a few heated kisses on the side of your neck as he continued to caress you. You leaned your head back and moaned, which allowed him to put his lips right next to your ear, in just the perfect place to whisper, "Kitten, let Daddy tell you how the rest of this night is going to go..."

--

PART TWO HERE

[possibly-evil]

short play I wrote under the cut!! (I get to direct it which will be fun)

GHOST LIGHT

CHARACTERS

MAX

GHOST

STUDENT 1

TEACHER

TIME: NOW

PLACE: A THEATRE

Scene 1

AT RISE: Two drama students, MAX and STUDENT 1 are standing in the theatre, looking at the ghost light. Their backpacks and a few random set pieces are there as well (ladders, blocks, chairs, etc.)

SFX: None.

STUDENT 1: It’s old light, and there’s not much of it. But it’s enough to see by.

MAX: Okay, but like, why?

STUDENT 1: What do you mean?

MAX: Why do we need to keep a light on? Nobody’s gonna be in the theatre when we go home, why do we have to turn it on?

STUDENT 1: Well, the ghost light stays on so that when people come back into the dark theatre to set everything up, they can get to the light switches and stuff without tripping and falling.

MAX: But, why is it called a ghost light?

STUDENT 1: (spookily) Well, it’s a superstition that every theatre has a ghost. The ghost light is to appease the spirits. OooOOooOOoOooOO!

MAX: Seems like a waste of time and energy.

STUDENT 1: Seems like you’re just boring. Come on Max, cheer up. Have some whimsy. Suspend your disbelief.

TEACHER: (from offstage) Hey, turn on the ghost light before you two leave!

STUDENT 1: Oh- did the bell ring?

MAX: Yeah.

STUDENT 1 exits quickly, grabbing their backpack on the way. MAX goes to grab their backpack, not in a hurry. They glance back at the ghost light.

MAX: Whatever.

MAX exits without turning it on.

Scene 2

SFX: Spooky music.

The stage is dark enough that it’s clear there’s supposed to be no light, but lit enough that the audience can still see what’s happening. GHOST enters. They’re wearing a classic ghost sheet. They bump into the set pieces as they walk.

GHOST: Woah- it’s dark in here. Okay. Slow and steady.

They make their way across the stage, bumping into several things. They reach the ghost light.

GHOST: It’s off! Of course it’s off. Lovely. Great.

They sit down on a chair or block, pulling out a newspaper. They attempt to read it.

GHOST: What does that say? I need a reading light. Of course, can’t even read the damn newspaper today. Who in their right mind would leave the ghost light off?

SFX: Scream and thud.

MAX flops onto the stage, dead.

GHOST: Ouch.

GHOST resumes reading their paper. MAX suddenly wakes up, taking in a huge gasp of air. They flail around, panicking.

MAX: What just happened? Where- what- oh- why’s it so dark in here?

GHOST: You left the ghost light off, kid.

MAX: Who are you?

GHOST sighs, folding up their paper.

GHOST: Come here.

MAX stumbles their way over, bumping into things.

MAX: Ugh- it’s dark- why don’t you turn on the light?

MAX attempts to turn it on. Their hand ‘passes through’ the light.

MAX: Why can’t I-

GHOST: Ghosts can’t interact with anything too heavy in the living world. Even newspapers are a bit hard for me to lift. But, hey, you get used to it.

MAX: I’m sorry- ghosts?

GHOST: You’re dead, kid.

MAX considers this, and begins laughing. This must be a joke.

MAX: Haha. Ha. Sure.

(beat)

MAX: You know- something hit my head really badly out there. I think I passed out. I think I'm dreaming.

GHOST: We all think that at first.

MAX comes to the realization that they’re dead.

MAX: I’m dead.

GHOST: There you go.

MAX: …you’re dead too?

GHOST: Mhm.

MAX: How did you die?

GHOST: Not even gonna ask my name first?

MAX: Sorry. I’m Max. What’s your name?

GHOST: I dunno. It’s been so long, I don’t even remember. Nice to meet you, Max.

(beat)

MAX: So is there like… a heaven? Hell? Or are we just ghosts forever?

GHOST: I’m not sure. Usually after you die, you see a light, and you go to it. That’s what brings you to the next plane. But, well… you left the light off.

MAX: You’re telling me that that light is the passageway between earth and heaven?

GHOST: Well, all ghost lights, technically.

MAX: Ok. So we just wait until someone else turns it on?

GHOST: Nope.

MAX: …Huh?

GHOST: Once you die, you basically get one day to move on to the next realm. By the time this light turns on again, it’ll be too late. Sorry, kid.

MAX: …So you’re telling me… i’m just gonna be a ghost forever?

GHOST: Yeah.

MAX: That’s not fair!

GHOST: Should’ve turned the light on.

MAX: …I’m sorry.

GHOST: For what?

MAX: Not turning it on. I didn't know.

GHOST: Should’ve turned it on anyways. Just because you don’t know what was going on, doesn’t give you any right to sit by and do nothing. Even if the light didn’t do anything, why risk it? Why not do something as harmless as flicking a switch? When you’re alive, you take that for granted. But when you’re dead, and you can’t flick a switch, when you can barely pick up the paper, you realize that you should’ve done it when you had the chance.

MAX: I’m sorry.

GHOST: For who?

MAX: Myself.

GHOST: Sometimes sorry is all you can be.

After a second, MAX sits down next to GHOST and tries to read the paper as well.

end

[yanderewritingdump]

I've read too many COD fics, and now I'm stuck on scary military dudes who use their skills/resources inappropriately to keep an eye on you.

AFAB reader, female pronouns/gender language used, MDNI.

AN: I would like to share that I know squat about the military/guns/technology, but I think they're neat in certain fictional setting. Most of my information on the world of COD/military on has come from either watching my brother play it more than a decade ago, unwillingly listening to various people rant, and social media thirst traps. Please suspend your disbelief and forgive any inaccuracies you may find.

It was too much of a habit to pull up the camera feed of your back porch, watching you rock gently as you diligently worked at what must be your latest project. Something was taking shape in your hands, but his knowledge of things outside of war and death tended to be a bit spotty. He thought it looked vaguely like a thin, holey scarf. It was the third color he’d seen you use in the last two weeks as you tried to teach yourself from the book next to your rocking chair. He wasn’t exactly sure what you were doing with the ball of twine and weird plastic tool, and he was pretty sure you were terrible at it from the way you grumbled and picked it. The breeze rustled some of the pages, lifting stray strands of hair into your eyes, before picking up and shutting the book gently on the delicate beaded chain that you had put together. That really got you muttering, and he huffed a soft laugh.

Your hair caught the light of the afternoon sun, shining and soft looking. The desire to run his fingers through it, to grip a fistful at the back of your head and pull you into his kiss thrummed through him. He wanted to suck your lip into his mouth for his teeth instead as you chewed on it in thought.

That was too common of a thought. You were always focusing intently on something, a million miles away as you gnawed on your poor lip and thumbs.

He shouldn’t watch you enough to know all these little details, to have all these little fantasies that are ingrained in him with simple habits of yours. But some nights it was the only thing to ease his troubled thoughts half a world away. He was just as addicted to you as his captain was to his cigars, and he was even less to give you up even if the others managed to find out about you.

It's hard not to notice a hulking man sitting in the far corner, no matter how much he blends in to the shadows. At least, it was hard for you and your friend where you were propped up on the bar with your drinks and dinner. When Caden spotted him, he nudged you in the ribs, not so subtly nodding at him as the normal Thursday night crowd milled around you. "Aren’t you in the market for a fun time?" he teased, “because that looks like a fun time.”

You elbowed him back harder in an attempt to hide how flustered you were. "Shut up," you hissed. You risked a glance towards the far corner table, the second of what would probably be at least a dozen more as the night went on. Even in the dimmest part of the bar, he seemed massive, sprawled out with his arm slung over the back of the chair and his legs spread wide into the aisle as he slowly sipped his liquor. The fuck-off vibes radiating off of him were clear even from this distance. “I don’t think he’s looking for company tonight anyway,” you said with a little disappointment. Caden rolled his eyes at you, and it devolved into your familiar bickering as he tried to convince you to approach him and you grumbled at him for trying to live vicariously through you.

He rarely indulged himself in these little trips to see you in person when he wasn’t on a mission. It felt too risky. He shouldn't be seen frequenting the same places as you, staring at you for hours on end. Normally, he wouldn’t even let himself be seen, but something was making him either bolder or stupider when it came to decisions about you. How was he supposed to resist pressing you into the cheap lacquered wood of the bar and leaning down to breathe in the smell of your hair and perfume? How could he not see if your hips felt as good in his hands as he imagined they would? It would be impossible not to press against you and see what sort of sounds you'd make with his lips pressed against your throat.

But he liked catching you looking at him, lip caught between your teeth for a brief moment as you flushed and looked away. Maybe if he were a different person, a more normal person, he could buy you a drink and flirt with you. Instead, he had camera covering every inch of your home and more than one pair of your underwear hidden away in his belongings.

The others would laugh at him if they saw how he was almost drooling over you.

You were in a heated conversation with your friend, heads close together as you whispered intently back and forth before he seemed to have to last word at the way you angrily got off your stool. From his spot, it was easy to tell which profanities you were hissing at him as you grabbed your drink. He was amused by it all for a moment until he realized you were tentatively approaching him instead of finding a different chair for your friend's partner, as was generally expected of this frequent ritual.

He knew what he looked like. A giant of a man drinking alone in a dingy, poorly lit bar did not generally get any positive interest. Apparently, you were braver than he gave you credit for. As badly as he wanted to actually interact with you, he wasn’t sure he’d actually be able to reign himself in if you tried to flirt with him. He really didn’t want to have to turn you down. If his pretty girl wanted him, he would let you have him because he had no self-control when it came to you.

Maybe that’s why he ended up letting you flirt with him and buying you another drink. It was definitely why he let you lead him to your home, pretty, soft hands occasionally reaching back for him in the cool winter air as you giggled at his terrible jokes.

It made you seem even more like a dream than you already did.

He let you hook your finger around his, leading him into your cozy, two-bedroom home. He knew all about it, had access to all the cameras that your parents and family friend insisted you setup around the older home, and had even set up other cameras to cover the blind spots you had missed. Knowing all of that was different than you leading him by the hand inside.

Not that you knew what you were inviting inside your sanctuary.

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to press you against your front door, letting his fingers dig into your waist to finally, finally let himself know what it felt like as he presses his mouth to yours. The soft, sweet noise of surprise that fades into a pleased hum satisfies something inside him. He would take care of you tonight, and he’d make sure to ruin every other man for you while he did it.

The gentle way you lace your fingers through his hair and crane up to meet him while he dominates your mouth was adorable. You were pliant against him, letting him drag you that much closer to his body with more soft, pleased noises. How could you be so soft and yielding to a man like him?

You make him crazy, he decides, letting his hands slide down to your thighs. The way you cling to his biceps, nails digging into his hoodie and as he yanks your thighs up around his waist make him smirk against your throat. “Which door?” he murmured against you instead of sucking bruises into the thin, delicate skin like he wanted to.

Fuck, it was hot how strong he was, you thought, locking your ankles around him. He hadn’t even made that discouraging grunt as he just wrapped you around his waist. Only one arm was supporting you as his other hand crept under your shirt to rest on the small of your back. Your back arched, pressing more firmly into him and the kisses he was lavishing on your throat. Each step he took made him grind against you, and you dug your nails in harder at the sheet size of the bulge against you. “Fuck,” you hiccupped when he nipped your throat.

“Which door, sweet girl?”

Surely there was a bruise forming now from his incessant, sucking kisses. “Left door. Kind of a mess. Sorry.”

He shrugged as he set you on a clear area of the bed, laying you back and caging you in for a moment with his body as he devoured your mouth. One of his hands was keeping your hips firmly anchored to his, grinding you against him while the other worked under your top to unhook your bra. When your hands tug at his hoodie, he sat back and yanked it off, letting your ass rest against his firm thighs for a just moment. You didn’t get to enjoy the view of his well-muscled chest for long before he was leaning over you again to divest you of your own top.

Propping himself on his elbow above you, he takes a moment to enjoy the view. You were flustered and flushed, lips plush and shiny from his rough kissing. You looked like you wanted to cover yourself and hide from his scrutiny, but you settled your hands on his sides, biting your lip and looking at him shyly. “So pretty,” he rumbled appreciatively before he was diving down to drown himself in you again. He nipped down your throat to your breasts, gently biting and licking one nipple as he worked your pants open and slipped his hand inside.

He wanted to skip ahead, throw your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until both of you were puddles on the bed. He couldn’t let himself see you against after this, though, and he knew that you wouldn’t be able to take that kind of treatment.

You were impatient to be kissed again. Hand tugging at his hair as you urged him back up your body. He let himself be tugged until his face was even with yours but just out of reach. “Patience, pretty girl,” he scolded smugly. That smugness turned into a groan with him dropping his head into the crook of your neck when he felt how wet you were for him. His fingers were practical dripping as he tried to mimic how he’d see you touch yourself. “Fuck, did you like my kisses that much, sweetheart?” he asked.

You whined, arching into the touch as best as you could under his body. His voice was sinful, low and gruff with a certainty that told you he was used to being listened to. Between that, the confident manhandling, and the way he kissed you like he couldn’t live without you, how were you supposed to stand a chance. “I want more,” you moaned instead of answering. “Vince, please.”

He huffed a laugh that registered as a little dark and sinister to some distant part of your brain as you tried to rock against his finger faster. “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” he rumbled, dragging you to the edge of the bed. Before the surprise had worn off, your pants were gone and he was on his knees with your legs over his shoulders. His arm was like an iron band across your hips, preventing you from jolting away at the first hot swipe of his tongue. Both of you moaned.

It seemed to set off something animalistic in him. The low grunt and groans rumbled through you as he sucked and licked at your clit with a single-minded determination. You were lost in the sensation, trying to grind against his face despite the way he held you down, and your hands fluttered between gripping his hair, his arm, and the bedding.

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought he was in heaven. How else could he explain how it felt to hear you moan and chant his name like a pray as your thighs clenched around his head? The noise you made when he sank his fingers into you must have been the sweetest thing he’d ever hear. He was glad the camera he’d set up in the bedroom had good audio.

Your nails were digging into his arm, leaving pretty little marks that he wanted to tattoo into his skin. Your walls were fluttering around his fingers, thighs trembling against his ears as you tried to stutter out a warning that’s cut off by every muscle in your body clenching. He loved the way your body tries to pull his fingers deeper and the way your clit pulses against his tongue as he sucks on it. He only let up when you whine his name, trying to wiggle away from his grip.

He let you, taking mercy on you just this once. He couldn’t have his pretty girl tap out before the fun even started when she had begged him for more could he?

You were panting, arm thrown over your eyes to block out the light of the room. “Fuck. I didn’t know I could come that hard.”

The bed creaked as he climbed back on, manhandling you on to your stomach and shoving pillows under your hips until he deemed them in the correct spot. “Oh, darling,” he rumbled against the back of your neck, ignoring your yelp of surprise, “that sounds like a challenge to me.” Something in you clenches at the dark promise in his voice.

The bed creaked as he climbed back on, manhandling you on to your stomach and shoving pillows under your hips until he deemed them in the correct spot. “Oh, darling,” he rumbled against the back of your neck, ignoring your yelp of surprise, “that sounds like a challenge to me.” Something in you clenched at the dark promise in his voice.

His forearm was planted on the bed beside your head, supporting him as he ground his cock through the mess between your thighs. “Do you have a condom?” you manage to ask. “I’m not on anything, and I wasn’t planning on bringing anyone home with me.”

There’s a bit of panic bubbling in you, ruining the nice little high you were coasting on before he flashed a small foil packet at you. “Wasn’t exactly planning on going home with anyone myself, but how was I supposed to say no to such a pretty girl flirting with me? Just want to enjoy feeling how wet I’ve got you before I put it on.”

He didn’t like the panic in your eyes when you asked, but something in him preened at the implication that you couldn’t help but want to take him home with you. You knew he’d take care of you, didn’t you? He tore the packet open with his teeth, trying to memorize the way you looked under him even as he mourned not being able to have the full sensation of fucking you.

It was a tight fit despite how wet he had gotten you, and he held your hip to keep you in place as he eased inside you. Your soft, pretty noises as you tried to rock back into him were not helping him stay in control. “Fuck, you’re tight, sweetheart.” He was breathing deeply, head pressed between your shoulders as he reigned in the wild urge to pound you into the mattress and the clench of his balls.

“Fuck me, Vince,” you whined, struggling to push back against him. None of your toys had filled you quite like he did, and you clenched around him in an effort to get him to move.

He growled something against your shoulder, forcing your knees to open more with his own before he was plowing into you. His grip on your hip and the weight of his body pressing into you kept you pinned in place as he started up a steady, hard rhythm that had his balls tapping your sensitive clit with each thrust. It had you moaning curses as your hands wrapped around his wrists in a vain attempt to do something. “You wanted me to fuck you, sweetheart. Now be a good girl for me and take it,” he said, hot breath ghosting across your overheated skin before he was sinking his teeth into the meat of your shoulder.

His firm hold hadn’t relented, forcing you to take what he gave you and scramble to hold on to something. There was already a tightness building in your abdomen, and it only grew faster as he found the perfect angle. “Please don’t stop. Shit. Please, please, please,” you hissed, eyes squeezed shut tight as you chased your orgasm. As if solely to be cruel to you, he pulled away. “No, no, no, no. Fuck. Please, Vince!” You looked over your shoulder at him to try to see why he was leaving you high and dry just in time for him to flip you on to your back and sink into you again.

He looked smug and rumpled in the best way as he found his rhythm again. His dark eyes smirked down at you while that thick, calloused thumb found your clit. You wrapped around him, trying to make sure he couldn’t do that again. He kissed you for a moment, and you could still taste yourself on his tongue. “Hush, pretty girl. I’m going to take care of you. I just want to look at you when you cum.” His shot straight through you, and it was just enough to send you over the over the edge.

Your thighs clamped around his sides, nails scratching down his back. He watched you throw back your head, whispering a choked off version of his name as he tried to keep his rhythm steady. It was hard with you clenched around him so tight and the feeling of finally having you under him. “That’s it. That’s my good girl,” he murmured, petting your waist gently. He managed to keep it together until your thighs relaxed against him and you started making that needy overstimulated noise even as you arched into his touch and rocked up to meet him.  

He wasn’t sure that he had ever cum that hard or that much. It seemed to go on forever as you kept grinding on his ridged body.

He managed to roll off of you before he collapsed, taking a moment to let his bones solidify again before he got to work cleaning both of you up.

[bates--boy]

@nezumivc103221

Nezumi halts with his lips slightly parted; both his eyebrows lift in a display of sincere surprise. Whatever he has wanted to say remains hung in his throat. Words unsaid like a cassette on pause, voice suspended mid-air. Slowly, he turns his face towards Peter and lets out a breath of the softest disbelief. His expression shifts into a somewhat neutral smile. "I'm fine; thank you for the offer, though," Nezumi says politely and amiably, unsure whether he should dub Peter's proposal to be a kind gesture or if he should be worried that he has come across as incompetent to his client. The life of a private investigator often requires the opposite to happen — Nezumi is the one who approaches strangers and represents his clients. It's his thing. He has handled nosy journalists, drunk patrons, entitled elite, ignorant police. He has had it all — or at least most, but he likes to think he can handle anything life throws at him. Nezumi doesn't remember the last time someone has offered to speak on his behalf — a guardian, a friend or a partner — he supposed that he doesn't exactly give the impression he ought to be cared for or that he cannot speak for himself, and he understands it. He has always been the independent one, the carer — and that is as it should be. That is who he wants to be. "I won't be long," Nezumi reassures; he turns to leave, but just before grabbing the doorhandle, he gives Peter a conniving look and attempts at a joke: "But if you hear me scream for help, feel free to rush to my rescue."

"Y'sure?" Peter asked, even as he was watching Nezumi leaving and, even more, was trying to hide the relief in his voice.

There was no nice way to put it: the case was a total bomb. And though Peter was sure that Nezumi was a fine investigator, thorough and top of the line (as far as Peter's knowledge of this type of work went), a man can only get his hopes up with false leads and dud information before he wants to call it quits, demand his money back, and let come what bloody, gorey, and torturous may. Peter still held that thought even when someone had rang him up and dangled just one more bit of hope in front of him: information.

Peter folded his arms on the desk and glanced past Nezumi to the door, the other side of which the informant was presumably still waiting. The guy looked every bit the devil-worshipping metalhead every blue-blooded Christian and his suburban housewife feared during the Satanic Panic, from how the guy was nothing but a block of muscle, to the runic tattoos all over his arms and one side of his face, to every face piercing imaginable. Peter knew he sounded very much like one of the pearl-clutching surburban Christians, but that guy was setting off a few alarms in Peter. Which was exactly why Peter knew that it was better if he, himself went back out there: Nezumi could extract the right information, sure, but if shit went south and the metalhead informant went on a slaughtering spree, Peter could resurrect.

Since Peter knew that carnage was possible, he really wished he hadn't picked his theatre to meet up. He knew he should stop imagining every which wrong way this meeting could turn, at least one of them had to take this seriously, because... was that a joke? Peter raised his eyebrows; dang, he didn't know Nezumi was capable of such a thing! He tried not to smile, himself, lifting a hand to rest his chin in his. "Ha ha, sure thing, buddy," he snarked. "Although, I think you look a little too gymratty to be a damsel in distress."

[ferdieylisse]

WILD BLUE YONDER SPOILERS/THOUGHTS

Doing this again :3

.Now this was a Doctor Who episode. It was amazing, it was hilarious, it was thrilling, and I am so glad that this episode was kept so tightly under wraps and wasn't part of the leaks- though how would this episode even be explained written down anyway?

.I don't really know why Isaac newton was there? To make the mavity joke and the snippet about the doctors sexuality? both very valid and great moments, but unless some important plot point fell out of my head it was a bit random, but I'm not complaining I suppose

.my mum was CONVINCED that it wasn't coffee that donna was drinking, with the way they were acting at the start of the episode. lmao.

.This set is giving crazy high budget. The entire episode was very visually impressive. The scene of the entire outside of the ship spinning in space (and the weird contorted circle shape of it) makes you blink twice

.I liked the bit that confirmed the doctors attraction to men, its funny that he seemed surprised about it. "is that who I am now?" who you are NOW? Anyway, I really hope it's explicitly talked about in future episodes that the doctor is bisexual, omnisexual or however it happens to be. I would like the attraction to ALL genders (or lack thereof) to be made explicit.

.My heart actually dropping out of tension hasn't been something I've felt in a doctor who episode in a LONG time, but that scene where we cut to the Doctor messing with the tubes in the blue room after we just see Donna and the Doctor in the orange one actually gave me that perfect sinking feeling. It was such a great "somethings not right" moment. Like, oh shit- that's not HIM-

."My arms are too long" and both of them just brushing that off coming from the other initially is very funny. and very real. Some shit I wouldn't blink if my friends said around me. yeah I dont know it's like that

.THEY WENT HAM ON THE VISUAL EFFECTS AND I CAN'T LOVE IT ENOUGH. IT'S UNCANNY, IT'S GOOFY AND IT'S UNSETTLING- I could NOT stop laughing, but it was also horrific! That scene of them chasing them down the hallway was straight up nightmare fuel. how did rtd even decide that was. that was something he wanted to do. he was right but like. crazy.

.The scene where donna and the doctor confront each other and the viewer knows one of each set isn't "right' but we don't know which is which (and I was wrong with my initial guess, which is probably the point) that was great. ""Donna""" telling the doctor that the flux wasn't his fault and him responding "I KNOW" was really just something to me. I cant remember much about the flux storyline, but sometimes things that aren't your fault still hurt so much.

.On the other side of the coin, it was an amazing moment when the """doctor""" realises the tie he threw off is gone, and he says "oh. things that are gone still exist." it's a very chilling line... cooking in the writing room

.Oh. and the spider-walking bit. Top tier. it makes me think of all the people watching doctor who recently just for David Tennant because he's having a Tumblr/twitter dilf sexyman resurgence. Watch your man do this (contorts into a crab walk, runs on all fours) :3 thats how we do things in doctor who. nah im joking he's my celeb crush too

.I also really liked the scene with the line of salt. Had to suspend my disbelief for a second: it's not like he salted across the whole room, walk around it maybe? but it was just a great scene, and the """donna"" dropping to her knees and counting the salt was pretty funny.

.Is this villain and the one in Midnight connected? Gotta be, though I feel as if it might never be explained. The mimicry is too similar of a premise and it makes a lot of sense that they'd reference it given that Midnight is generally considered to be one of the 10th Doctors best episodes.

.Do y'all remember when someone edited the IMDB page to say that Billie Piper was in this episode because whoever did that was quite funny. This episode was leagues better than any returning character call-back episode they could have done (and I say that with so much love for her) but I am one of the many people who want A SINGULAR TENTOO MENTION and the clown music is getting louder and im wondering if I should just go grab my rainbow wig and red nose now

.What kind of animal was the captain? A horse? I guess? I want to see what this alien looked like when it was alive. It made me intrigued and I think it was quite a powerful/scary visual that it wasn't a human skull. There was something more unsettling about an animalistic skull- YES of course it would be an alien yeah duh but do you understand? do you find the visual creepy as well?

.Im sorry but the part where the "doctor" just starts GALLOPING on all fours made me lose it. Me at 11 years old on the school playground pretending to be a wolf. What warrior cat do you think the tenth doctor kins (I dont know, but I do know that 12 kins Jayfeather. That's really obvious.)

.Could he not have thought of ANY better question to ask to determine between the two donnas? And why would "it just is" be the answer he went for? The scene where Donna faces death is powerful: breaking a little of her trust for him: he chose the wrong one. it was good stuff. But hey doctor, please explain your thought process behind that whole scene on this blackboard, because I cant get my head around it.

.My mother wants a ramp that spews people out of the door installed in our house for guests.

.I feel like donna was lying when she said she doesn't remember the doctors 15 years past. Or, idk, well. I wrote that but she did say it was like looking into a furnace, so maybe it's true. Donna asking if the doctor will be alright and the doctor saying "I will be" was great but "when?" "in a million years" was a bit much, but im being pedantic.

.Curious about the salt thing... there's much in the specials that's either being set up for the giggle or the next season, and both are intriguing. FWIW, I think when the Meep was referring to the boss the meep was probably referring to the toymaker, (watch me eat my words next week) but the salt thing- would that really be connected to the toymaker?

.wilf.wilfwilfwilf. Apparently, this is the only time before Bernards death that he features in the specials. This hurts the most, but it hurts SO GOOD that he got to be here one last time. and, fictionally, the doctor got to see Wilf one last time. That's so incredible. I'm tearing up. And I stayed with my eyes glued to the credits scene knowing there would be a dedication to him in the end, and I teared up all over again. Bernard Cribbins acting as Wilf is one of those characters that's going to be remembered forever.

.Incredible. So much fun. This was just... FUN. my whole family really enjoyed this one a lot more than the Star Beast (me and mum loved the star beast, my dad didnt, but he loved this one.)

[celiaelise]

Lately I've been watching "Emma: a Victorian Romance", an anime from 2005, which has made the very bold and slightly confusing choice to be a romance set in historical England, that shares the name of one of THE most popular, well-known, and widely-adapted romances set in historical England. And having absolutely nothing in common with it.

Anyway, it's fun, I'm having a good time. There are some things that seem really well-researched, like shots of specific tools or gadgets that seem like they must be period-accurate for how bizarre they are, and then there are moments of glaring comedic inaccuracies. (as is to be expected, I suppose!)

(Well, the entire premise involves a nobleman falling in love with a housemaid, so it requires you to suspend a lot of disbelief from the get-go.)

I also don't actually know my historical time periods well enough to know if it is authentically Victorian or not. The most convincingly British thing about it, so far, is the Orientalism with which the Indian character is treated by the narrative. I didn't know Japanese anime could do that! You learn something new every day.

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

How can I have my world full of massive floating structures in the sky and keep it safe enough?

I'm thinking these structures would be at least 300m in diameter and have several buildings. Just a single disaster could be horrible if there's say 5000 people up there and just as many or even more people in buildings and streets on the ground.

Obviously, the fastest way to eliminate deaths would be to have these structures over the water or empty ground. But that's still so many people left on these structures itself.

Nobody is going to build these structures if it isn't safe. A single disaster could toss out the entire project of doing technology.

Anyway, disasters WILL happen because they do, but just how much is tolerable before it's deemed too unsafe? I suppose that could be part of plot but I'm not sure how that even works in real life? I don't know about safety thresholds in real life I can look at, especially when this is obviously sci-fi and I don't know where to search.

Finally, I am not sure how to design them. Could they be using anti grav technology? Maybe it's massive ships hovering in the air, either permanently staying still or set to land every now and then so people can travel without needing transport.

Tex: Suspending disbelief is a writing mechanism that’s popular for a very good reason, and shorthanding technology and magic (which in some genres amounts to the same thing) can often help move the plot along better than examining every grain and molecule that makes up a world.

That said, every technology has had at least one disaster during its history. Planes, for example, had a brief period where they used square windows, which had disastrous effects on cabin pressure and kept crashing the plane - now we use rounded windows (Popular Mechanics). And yet, air travel via airplane numbers in the millions nearly every year (Statista).

“Safe” is often a risk assessment measure used to judge whether something is worth doing. It’s unrealistic to assume that a technology will never kill anyone, but historically the general assessment is to constantly improve and make sure any deaths or injuries are accidental and as close to flukes as possible.

I would look at the design of skyscrapers for reference, since they face the same dilemmas as your world, in terms of safety, intra-building transportation like elevators, and area allocation for number of people and utilities.

Ebonwing: Why do the people in your world want to build floating cities? The more pressing the reason, the more likely they are to tolerate safety issues. If living on the ground is for whatever reason extremely dangerous but floating cities are only somewhat dangerous, then people will be far more willing to accept the risks. 

As for how you can construct them within your setting, both antigrav and building them on the back of airships work. I would recommend not getting stuck on this too much. Like Tex already said, suspension of disbelief is necessary for readers to engage with scifi or fantasy fiction and most people won’t question it if you say that this world has floating cities powered by antigrav, or whatever you end up going with, and leave it at that.

Wootzel: One factor you might want to throw in to make your floating structures safer is redundancy. Is it possible that there’s more than one technology they can use for this? Are there the aerial equivalent of life boats? Even if you just use one technology to levitate your structures, having two independent systems powered independently could be a good way to make sure that if one goes down, it can still stay up… or at least float down slowly in a controlled way. 

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD Prompt: any au, dante realizing cisco has superpowers (+ talking about it for the first time?)

set during 1x16

Dante Ramon was not the kind of person who woke with the sun, or, if he could help it, before midmorning at best. Of course, being a hostage tied to a chair was not exactly conducive to anyone's sleep schedule. So he was awake, fidgeting in his ropes, when his little brother suddenly froze, still holding one of his tiny screwdrivers and the skeletal metal frame of what he'd promised their captors would be a weapon. 

"Cisco," he hissed softly, not wanting to attract attention and also not wanting to get punched in the face again if Cisco stopped working and Snart noticed. "Cisco?"

Cisco dropped the screwdriver, falling backwards hard enough to trip on the chain connecting him to what had once been a mobster's desk, now a captive engineer's workbench. He clutched at his heart with both hands, clawing at the fabric of his sweat-through graphic tee. Dante thought he might scream, but his mouth just hung open, wordless. 

"Cisco?" Dante asked again, more urgently, less concerned for himself. "What--did you shock yourself, or--" He didn't know the first thing about whatever it was Cisco was doing, but it had to have been dangerous. 

Cisco blinked, still clutching at his chest, his breathing a harsh staccato in Dante's ears. "I--I--oh, dios mio, I--."

"What? What happened?" Dante switched to Spanish, just in case anyone was listening.

"I died," Cisco said in the same language. "I was dead, I...felt it. It was so real..."

Dante wanted to scoff a laugh at that. In any other circumstance, he would have. "What do you mean, you died? You're right here, and you gotta finish those things so we can get out of here."

Cisco stood, still wobbly. "I'm not..sure," he said, looking at his hands. "I...It's a theory. Oh god."

"What's a theory?" Dante asked. 

"The accelerator. It affected people..."

"Yeah, like the Flash, I do watch the news sometimes."

"It affected people who were near it. They got powers...when they died."

"I'm sorry, what." Dante said, flat. "That's crazy. I can accept weird laser guns that shoot ice and whatever the hell the Flash is, but--"

"Ok, first of all, it's not a laser," Cisco said, "and I'm not going to explain the science of it because you literally could not understand it, and second of all that's where you suspend your disbelief? Really? Right there?"

"It's 9 am," Dante shot back, " and you're saying you just got resurrected."

"No, I.. I think it was... a vision. Of what was supposed to happen today. The Flash... changed time, uh, yesterday. Reset button. I think...none of this was supposed to happen."

"No shit, this isn't exactly how I like spending my nights," Dante said. "Or mornings. or any time of day."

"Shh, I have to think," Cisco said, going back to his tools. He gripped the tiny screwdriver tightly. Dante rolled his eyes. 

"Ok, so you died. And what, your power is... having a vision of it?"

"I guess," Cisco said. 

Dante clicked his tongue. "The Flash got superspeed, that one dude on the news could set himself on fire and fly, and you get to see... a past that didn't happen. Damn, sucks."

"That dude on the news is engaged to my friend, the one you were flirting with at your party," Cisco said. "And it's not the worst power."

"Not great, either," Dante said, deciding to ignore the part about flirting with a woman who’s fiance might be able to set him on an unfortunate amount of fire. "It's not going to get us out of here."

"Yeah, well that's what my engineering is for," Cisco snapped. "Will you shut up and let me think?"

Dante decided to shut up. 

"What are you doing, chatting instead of working?" Snart asked, lumbering in in his stupid parka, even though it was March and the temperatures had been rising steadily. It hadn't even rained, much less snowed, in weeks. "This isn't social hour."

"Sorry," Cisco said quickly, "I'm working as fast as I can."

"Hm," Snart said, moving towards Dante. "Maybe, or maybe you're stalling. Trying to buy your speedster friend time to find you? Don't try to play me, kid. I told you what would happen if you did."

"Wait," Cisco said, voice rising in panic.

Dante braced for the blow.

There was a crash, a shattering of metal and wood and the thud of a body slamming into something solid, and Dante squinted his eyes open. 

The desk was in what could only be described as shreds, splinters and fragments scattered across the room, and Snart, bleeding from the head, crumbled against the far wall directly under a dent in the wood paneling.

"Cisco, what the--"

"Ok, I think maybe it's not just visions?" Cisco said, his voice still high and startled. "Uh--" he worked his ankle free, the end of the chain no longer attached to anything, and stumbled over pieces of the 3D printer to reach Dante, something sharp in hand. He sawed through the ropes. "We gotta get out of here."

"You think?" Dante said, standing and regretting immediately. His legs felt like static, all pins and needles, but there was no time for that. "Where are we going?"

Cisco shook his head. "I don't know. Not home. And not STAR Labs."

"Why not?" 

"Because that's where my boss killed me."

[kitkatt0430]

Anyway because I'm in a sci fi mood right now (and rewatched the film recently) and you mentioned that you loved the film - I would love to know about your more detailed thoughts on Independence Day!!

It is absolutely a silly, feel good film to me. I love so much about it. Brent Spiner's delivery of all his lines before the alien autopsy gone wrong, Will Smith dragging an alien through the desert while bitching at it (he deserves to), Judd Hirsch and Jeff Goldblum's excellent chemistry as a father and son duo... even the music choice at the start of the movie - I can't hear R.E.M.'s It's the End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) without thinking of this movie and it fits the overall theme of the movie soooo well.

I like the President character - not surprising, I generally like Bill Pullman's character acting - and he works well as someone trying hard to keep it together and do the right thing despite grieving his personal loss of his wife during the first act of the movie.

(Apparently they reused the White House set from The American President, which amuses me trivia wise since that's another movie I enjoy. And if I watch one right after the other, I can pretend Thomas Whitmore was elected after Andrew Shepherd's second term and then contemplate how the Shepherd family and their secret security agents fared the aliens.)

But Steven Hiller is probably my favorite character, though, because he's just fun. He's relaxed and confident in his relationships in a way that says he's comfortable both with who he is and who they are, even if others are more judgemental about it.

That said, I do really enjoy David a lot - an MIT grad who is overqualified for his job and his father doesn't seem to understand why he won't/can't get a better job, though it's rooted in love and wanting his son to be happier. I see a lot of mental health struggles in David that are relatable, even if they're not similar to my own issues.

I always feel so bad for the alien groupies at the start of the movie. Yeah, we're supposed to see them as being kinda idiots, but they're just excited and hopeful and it's sad that they die for being willing to hope that maybe the aliens come in peace and want to hang out or party. They just wanted to believe in a better future and that's really not so bad.

The end of the movie comes together really well. Despite it being a bit ridiculous that David can create a virus that can propagate to every alien ship from the mothership and kill their shielding after being totally unfamiliar with the alien tech just days earlier... it's somehow just plausible enough that I can suspend disbelief and just enjoy David and Steven having their infiltration mission. And the Independence Day speech that Whitmore gives before the world wide attack on the alien ships always gets to me. It's cheesy but it gets to me.

[ginoeh]

Shipper Tag Game

I was tagged by the lovely @tj-dragonblade , thank you!

What ship were you completely obsessed with as a teenager, but now you don’t care about anymore?

As a teenager... well, that was quite a while ago lol. I suppose that would have been Harry/Draco. First fandom, first queer pairing, first smut stories. I was such a sweet sweet summer child XD The early 00s were wild

Which ship would you consider your first one?

Soooo. Funny story. Way back when, I got into fanfiction via fanfiction.net. You know how their filter system is bad/non-existent? Yeah. Little me, on her first outing to ffnet, didn’t know how to operate the character settings. I clicked on the first story on the top of the first page of the HP section. It was a Snape/Hermione star-crossed lover deal. It flash-fried my brain, taught me content curation in a crash course and incidentially made me partial to the ship for quite a few years...

Your first fanfic was about which couple?

See above lol. I will never ever forget the experience. I tried to find that story later for downloading (like an ugly beloved keepsake ig lol) but never managed.

If you mean fanfic I've written: it was gen.

Do you remember the first couple you saw fan art of?

Kakashi/Obito

Have you ever gotten into ship discourse?

Nope. Scraped by a few times since I entered the tumblr bubble but managed to stay out of it. I don’t get the point. It's freaking fictional characters in fictional worlds. Go touch grass or something instead... (but you will make me fucking mad if you try to drag me into these things with wild ad hom accusations based on what i ship or dont ship)

Did you used to have a NOTP or have one currently?

No, not really. It's only ever preferences. There are some I dislike due to my own hc/inability to suspend my disbelief but I wouldn’t call them NOTPs. I just don’t read them.

Who were the last couple in the last fanfic you read?

Dreamling

Currently, do you have any OTPs?

I actually dislike the term OTP. It's a scale of preferences for me. There are few (read: none) fav characters that I can only see with one love interest (and anyway, sometimes i do prefer plot over love story. wild take i know) and the more time I spend in a fandom the more I diversify.

Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting into?

I don’t get this question, sorry. If I'm interested, I'll search it out. Even if the fandom is old. AO3 is an archive for exactly that reason.

Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they’re kind of interesting?

Not that I can think of, at the moment!

Do you have any ship that, in the past, would have been considered normal but now you would be cancelled over?

Probably? I'm not clear on what all one is getting cancelled over this week/month/year by which group of 'concerend bystanders'. I suppose I might get cancelled for the mentioned Hermione/Snape?

What is your favourite crack ship?

I'm so glad you asked. It's clearly Dream/Helm (thank you for that @writing-for-life ) Or Gollum/The One Ring (thanks go to Neil himself here). Or - actually, never mind lol.

What is the couple you read the most fanfics about?

At the moment it's Dreamling. But I cycle through fandoms/pairings periodically...(btw im looking for more Johanna/Death? If anyone could point me in the right direction?)

What do most of your ships have in common?

At least one character has a dark/unknown/violent/tragic past (they can be victim or perpetrator!!! I'm all for character development babey)

What do you absolutely hate in a ship?

I don’t hate ships? As I said above. Possibly the reduction on 'I can fix him/her' or 'my love will save him/her from depression/"the darkness"/etc.' but that is mostly a matter of the author's style of crafting characterization and plot and has nothing to do with the ship itself.

I'm tagging @bazzybelle , @seiya-starsniper , @writing-for-life if you want to or maybe just point me towards your post if you've done it already?

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Dead City 1x01: Old Acquaintances and 1x02: Who's There?

So, I didn't do a post about the first episode of Dead City last week. (Can I just point out that the abbreviation for Dead City is D.C.? As in, Beth's D.C. spoon?)

The pilot episode was fine, but it was setting up the story, and we didn't see a ton of symbolism or Beth callbacks in it. Episode 2 this week was a different story.

Here is just a little bit of discussion about ep 1:

@wdway:

I finished that Dead City a little while ago. It's the pilot episode, some interesting things but they're just laying the groundwork, trying to get the story started which is very much expected. I just want to mention two things .

One is about Herschel. We knew that this is supposed to be a few years after the take down of CW. I'm just questioning tptb thinking in choosing their young actors for whatever age they're supposed to be, they change so rapidly that it would make more sense to me to have kept the original Herschel because the new replacement is obviously a few years older and yet, I swear by the end of the sixth episode he'll look like he's ready to be married with children, haha.

Okay, maybe not quite that bad but I'm just looking at this young man thinking he is going to age up real quick. They've already basically said that they'll be other seasons, that this is just the first, so obviously Herschel will be aging rapidly and I don't know if it will match the timeline going forward.

First there was the all the empty chairs in s11 then we had the green empty chair in Fear. In dead City near the start of it we see Negan with a motorcycle on one side of him and this empty chair on the other. Coincidence I'm sure. That empty chair nor that motorcycle doesn't has anything to do with the plot of the episode, so I'm not giving anything away, but it's a visual that I suspect Gimple had something to do with it.

@galadrieljones

A character named Ginny?

They called Virginia “Ginny” in Fear, I think!

@wdway

Morgan, I believe called his wife Jenny, with a J, but still.

@galadrieljones

Yeah I always thought that Virginia/Ginny/Jenny was meant for Morgan. Like he was being haunted.

I am looking at the caption under Negan though in that picture. Who’s he talking to? Is there someone named Ginny in DC?

Also idk why they keep casting weirdly old characters in TWDU. It’s not typical for them and I’m wondering if maybe there was some new rule or by-law passed by SAG or something to do with child actors and they can’t cast anyone under the age of like 13, or they can but it’s a major pain so they’re just asking us to suspend our disbelief.

@wdway

You'll find out who Ginny is pretty quickly. I won't go into it, not that it would spoil anything, but I think we'll see more of her going forward. She doesn't appeared to have a big purpose, which tells me that her character must have a purpose going forward.

Discussion on Episode 2: Who's There?

@wdway

I enjoyed the episode. There are things they're holding back to lead us along, I hope this isn't too big of a spoiler, but we don't find out about Annie or the baby. I think we probably won't for a while.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Just finished watching DC. I actually really liked this episode (minus all the intestine-spillage). I thought there were quite a few Beth callbacks in it. My favorite line? Maggie spun some yarn about "Canada and a shipwreck." 😱

@wdway

When Maggie mentioned Canada, I immediately thought of Tales. That he was headed to Canada. Of course, the shipwrecked parts stood out because well you know...

You guys know how bad I am with names so just excuse me. The girl that was originally with Negan who is being watched over by the group (I guess Maggie's group) while Maggie and Negan are away, they brought her to what is the kids’ school and was introduced by saying that she was from Oceanside. I'm wondering where this group of people, this community that Maggie and Herschel have been with is located.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Yeah, I don't know. Obviously, she isn't gonna just stay put and wait for Negan, so it will be interesting to see what her storyline is. When she left in the night, she went over to a bike. That's all we saw, but still. Bicycle symbolism.

Negan told a story about a girl "holed up in a car." He said she was "just a kid." Sounds like she was tortured and killed by the Croat eventually, but still. Negan then talked about having "one shot" and "missing." He was talking about the bad guy, rather than the girl, but they were all related, and it felt like a Beth parallel to me.

Then there was the part when the Marshal went into that apartment. I got such heavy WHAWGO vibes. There was the picture of the two brothers.

They weren't twins, but they were situated spatially in the photo the same way Noah's twin brothers were, and the way Robert Patrick's character and his twin brother were. Finding the dead guy, one of the brothers, in there felt similar to finding Noah's brothers.

And then there was the rosary he laid over him. We did see one of those with Carol at the end of S6, but Beth wore the original around her wrist at Grady. Oh, and the Marshal covered him with a blanket, much like Bethyl did to the Rich Bitch walker, and like Daryl almost did for Len, before changing his mind.

Even Maggie and Negan being imprisoned in the bathroom jumped out at me. I've harped on bathrooms since S4 when Rick escaped the Claimer house through the bathroom, and the walker that came after Carl in the pudding house (the one he shot in the forehead in the EXACT place Beth was shot) came out of the bathroom.

I also thought of The Same Boat. That wasn't a bathroom per se, but it was filmed on the same set as Saw, which featured a gross bathroom, toilet and all, and had a man who was presumed dead suddenly stand up and reveal himself to be alive at the end.

That may be all I have for now. I didn't really take notes, so I'm doing this from memory.

Negan had some funny lines. I loved his "how about everyone just untwist their undies." They featured it on the after-the-episode part, so I heard it twice, and laughed both times.

I also thought the flashback between Maggie and Hershel was super interesting. Not sure where they're going with that, but I look forward to learning more.

What do you think the purpose was of Maggie not making it all the way across the chasm? That seemed too purposeful to not foreshadow something, but nothing really came of it here. Just had me wondering.

@wdway

It's hard to tell right now because they're just lying and foundation for the series, I did appreciate the description of the three (3) separate groups. I didn't take notes either, but I was so glad the showrunner/writer explained what was going on.

When Negan was talking about the girl in the car, I immediately thought of Beth. Not that I thought he was talking about Beth, but I felt that that was purposely put in to give a nod to us. I don't know that there will be any clues that would lead to anything about Beth in this spinoff, but I do think that they will sprinkle reminders throughout.

I have the same feelings as you did when I saw the bathroom, that it was a reminder of Same Boat.

That scene where Maggie was somewhat freezing up as the Walkers were coming at her and she was so hesitant to use the zip line, then got hung up. It did seem kind of purposeful and I was trying to wreck my brain to whether or not we had known she has a fear of heights, kind of like Carol in the caves in s10 with it being a reminder that Carol was claustrophobic, but I couldn't remember anything from Maggie's past. It might be something in recent years (in the show) that we will find out later about.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

I was getting some screenshots for it. That always reveals new things to me because I'm watching more closely, instead of casually. It's nothing super groundbreaking, but I saw some interesting things, and a few insights on what we've already discussed.

First, the thing where Maggie didn't make it across on the zip line. Rewatching that part, I realized that the physics reason for why that happened is because she hesitated. She was clearly frightened of the distance down, and didn't want to just go for it. Her foot literally slips off the box, so she doesn't get the same momentum Negan and the first lady did. That's why she didn't make it to the other side. I still think that's a foreshadow, tho. Maggie being hesitant rather than going for it, and something goes wrong or something bad happens because of it.

The scene with the marshal we compared to WHAWGO? Watching it a second time, I realized it doesn't explain why he went there or how he knew to go there. He went looking for a gun, but it was gone. All he found was the box the gun used to be in. But how would he know it was there?

I think it's obvious he had been there before and knew the man who's body he found. That's probably why he covered him up: because he knew him. I'm wondering now if he, the marshal, is the second brother in the pictures. If so, that means he left his brother behind at some point. Between that, covering him up, and laying the rosary over him, it's an even more potent parallel to Beth.

Also, in that scene, he sees the corpse of his brother first in a mirror. I didn't catch that at first. So, it's a mirror image and then he turns and goes into the brother's room. Just kind of interesting.

And then about the girl--Ginny right?--who was with Negan? Something is bothering her about the water barrel. It's at Maggie's community, and like 3 different times she stops and stares at it, including at the end just before she steals the bike to leave. No idea what it means, but the fact that it's a water thing caught my attention. That's all. ;D

What did everyone else think about DC ep 2?

[transienturl]

you know, I bet if I still lived on the east coast and Was Normal... okay you know what actually the set of conditions I'm imagining here are kind of complicated to pin down and that part's not important to the concept; let's start over.

you know, I bet if I saw my relatives in-person a lot, I wouldn't read kid fic with the same sort of idealized... not idyllicism, that's not the right word. I dunno, the same sort of rose-colored glasses, I guess. like—sure, it was never likely, but I always thought I'd enjoy being one of the... uncles, I suppose it would have been? er, like, the kid people, the people who pay more attention to the next generation than the current one when they walk into a room. whether or not I would have been doesn't really matter; in either case I'd have a realistic notion of whether—well, either I wouldn't, or I'd have gotten a lot of real-world experience—I don't know if this is translating and I'm not sure how to say it?

maybe it's easier to put it the other way: I enjoy reading fiction about raising children that I'm quite sure is a really cherry-picked picture of what the experience is like. and I'm totally fine with that, I view it as just entertainment, but I don't know that I'd be able to suspend that disbelief if I didn't have so much distance from the next generation of my extended family as I do, something which I thought about a lot when I was younger. yeah, that was much clearer.

mind you...

a) that's not to say I would or wouldn't like it (the "it" possibly referring to a lot of things in the above paragraphs). maybe I'd really want kids and think the fiction is a bit silly. maybe I'd really not want kids and thank the heavens for the fiction because of its entertainment/escapism value. maybe the fiction is super accurate and having kids is a blast actually; you never know.

b) actually I kind of thought this sort of thing about cats before I'd handled a cat ("probably they're less perfect precious angels than portrayed in fiction but I might still like the real version") and it turns out that in reality cats are perfect precious angels, exactly as portrayed. so by that logic, maybe... well. like I said: maybe the fiction is super accurate and having kids is a blast actually; you never know.