#I am so obsessed with these two right now

[moonlight-prose]

“please don’t make me say it if you aren’t going to say it back” with a desperately in love with joel reader would hit so much…

weaved around your finger like yarn

a/n: me writing for joel again?? this has sat in my inbox for over a year and i never meant to actually take this long with it. but i finally figured out how to write this concept. and now i am actually obsessed with the small world of softness i created for these two. this is yes jackson joel, but nothing bad happens ever to him because why would it? it's all fine right?

summary: he never made space in his life for love in the aftermath of destruction. the after of his life he once thought would extend past decades of gray hair, smile lines carved in around his mouth now set in frowns and sneers. but snowfall and alcohol blur the lines for both of you when winter comes to jackson.

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, love confessions, heavy makeout sessions, alcohol consumption, tipsy joel, sad joel, laughter at the end of the world, hope.

He can't remember laughing until his stomach hurt. The ache that spilled into his chest, warming his insides with a sun like quality that left him shivering. He can't recall the feel of his cheeks pulled so wide the sensation became a phantom pain seconds after. He knows it happened. He can distinctly recall the jokes, the joy. But the laughter lingers like a ghost at the back of his mind—translucent and gray and distorted enough to feel false.

Alcohol simmers in his stomach with a rueful intent. A malignant aftermath that would hit him in a few hours after two months of attempted sobriety. Ellie insisted, he accepted. Easy enough to say. Difficult to follow through with.

He had his days where whiskey sounded better than the flavor of bacon Tommy would bring him in the early mornings. But the dismay in your eyes helped him hold off, regain his awareness of a world not yet shattered. For once in quite a long time...he finally lived. For you, for Ellie, for Sarah.

He lived to see his hair grow longer and the grays appear more frequently. To drink coffee in the mornings on a porch you were already settled on. To help you fix small things here and there in your cabin next door. He lived for your smile, the light in your eyes. The curve of your lips as they pulled up into bolstering peals of laughter—the furrow in your brow as you frowned from endless frustrations on long hard days.

Joel Miller lived to love you.

He existed to dig his heels in and wait shit out—it's what he was good at, what he knew how to do. But for you he relented quicker than ice on a hot asphalt driveway back home in Texas. His mind became sand that slipped through your giving hands—heart a fluttering mess that sang a tune he could never get right on the guitar stashed in his living room.

Days bloomed into weeks which grew into months. Eventually a year passed and what used to be difficult and awkward to be around people again, felt like breathing the fresh winter air. The jackets he managed to find hung on hooks by the door, a pair of heavy boots beside the small table Tommy crafted him.

The mornings were nice. When hot water hit ground coffee and the aroma plagued his kitchen for hours at a time. The evenings called you towards him—simple cooking skills shared in the confines of a home he pined for you to reside in.

Life was a sliver of peace he never imagined he'd get again. But the hole in his heart never faded, the pain still rang out sharp enough to have him clamping down on the inside of his cheek. And your smile made his stomach ache with a longing deep enough to scar.

Tommy told him to buck up and do something. Ellie called him a fucking idiot.

You...gave no indication you felt the same way. So silent and reserved he would remain.

Your feet slid on icy, fingers gripping tightly to his jacket with a yelp in a quick attempt to save yourself from slamming to the ground. Joel snickered loud and brash and a wash of embarrassment burned under frozen cheeks. Dragging you up, his arm looped tightly around your waist—hand pressed harsh and insistent to the small of your back. You swallowed the butterflies at the sight of his face flushed red—eyes shining from the effect of too much whiskey.

"We were bad tonight," you muttered, breath forming a cloud between your faces.

He grinned—skin buzzing at the close proximity of your form. "Only a little bit."

"You're not supposed to drink Joel."

Leaning in he traded his smile like a secret; you tucked it into your chest with a sharp breath. "I won't tell if you don't, darlin'."

"Joel..."

"C'mon. No one's gettin' in trouble here."

A blade pierced your heart brutally—spilling crimson along pale white snow. Even as Joel remained entirely unaware of how you clung to him. How your body called his name—your mind plagued with thoughts of his being, with images of his smile, with the sound of his raspy voice. He'd never know the way you cherished each moment with him. The mornings tucked away from an unruly world—the nights shared between friends who might one day be more.

Your teeth scraped along the cracked skin of your bottom lip, eyes cast up to the curl of his lips. The words sprang forth faster than you could drag them back. Your chest of secrets unlocked and bared to the man who drowned you in his small flecks of joy. Later you'd blame the alcohol. When the headache ravaged your head and an ache lingered between your thighs.

Later you'd comb over every small glance and breathy word.

"I like spending time with you Joel," you breathed, fingers toying with the front of his leather coat. "I like...um..."

The breath caught in his throat, gaze desperate to catch yours. "Yeah sugar?"

"It's a hard thing to say." Another cloud of your whiskey tinged breath filled the air.

"You can tell me anythin'. You know that right?" Even as hope flared bright and scorching through the width of his chest. "I'll listen."

Hesitation spilled into the night, your voice a soft whisper he barely caught. "Please don't make me say it if you aren't going to say it back."

Oh didn't you know?

Did you not see how his gaze dug beneath the layers of flesh and bone, of tendons and veins that clung to your form? Did you not understand he would take a bullet for you? That he'd bear the wound of a warrior's death to keep you alive? How could you not know that his love stuck to his tongue with a saccharine bitterness he swallowed down like the drugs he once took to numb his mind?

You healed pieces of his soul you never broke. A marred and fucked puzzle that was meant to find a home six feet underground. By his own hand no less. He was destined to die—born to suffer—yet you swathed him wool with the promise of a peaceful life.

A future etched by the hands of love.

"Say it," he pleaded, frozen hand cupping your cheek.

"It's more than just that." The breath you took shot adrenaline down his spine. "I like our mornings. I like our dinners and conversation. And even when you come into town with me. But I...I love..."

The glossy nature of your eyes created by unshed tears that pooled at your waterline dug the knife deep enough to meld it within his heart. You didn't know. You couldn't have. His silence, his hesitation, swallowed every emotion he might have told you—every secret uttered in the shadows of night that told only half his story.

He told you about Sarah. About their life together, about her smile. That in itself felt like a proclamation of love—a key to the heart he thought stopped beating long ago.

"I knew it would freak you out," you muttered, pulling away from his hold.

Only for him to panic. His hand gripped the back of your jacket, pushing you towards him hard enough for your feet to slip again. But your gasp was swallowed by the cold press of his mouth to yours. Lips chapped by the winter air slid against your parted mouth as you froze against his chest. Your hands hung listlessly at your sides. He kissed you tenderly, attempting to wake you from the spell of shock, but to no avail did it bring you back.

"'M sorry." His words were muffled against your chin, forehead pressed to yours and eyes squeezed shut. "I shouldn't have–"

The press of your fingers into his cheeks jolted him back—eyes wide as you dragged him back with a stifled moan. Your mouth found his tongue hot and wet along his bottom lip in a pleading motion he complied to instantly. Stepping forward he fell into you with a deep groan. One that echoed and vibrated right down to your stomach—one you savored with a lick along his back teeth.

Hands cupped your ass with an insistent need to mold you closer, fingers digging into the plush flesh he longed to bite and taste. You tasted like whiskey. You smelled like him. It made him dizzy with want, anxious to lead you back to his porch—to seat you on his kitchen counter in the mornings while the coffee went cold.

"Fuck I wanna take ya home sugar," he grunted, biting at your lower lip with a grin.

Your breathless reply made the hair stand on the back of his neck. "You can."

"No." He shook his head, stealing another kiss with a gritty moan. "Not tonight. 'M gonna do this proper."

"Proper," you smiled, tugging on the longer curls you refused to let him cut. "You're such an old man Miller."

The large breadth of his hand cupped your chin, pushing the cheeks he lightly bit into together. "Won't be sayin' that tomorrow when I ain't got all this fuckin' alcohol in me."

"Yeah?" The droop of your eyelids—the darkened iris now filled with lust—set his teeth on edge. His body hummed with a new buzz he craved since meeting you. "Prove it."

"Oh I will." He grinned sharply, licking his teeth like a wolf waiting to pounce. "Don't you worry 'bout that."

A glimmer in your eyes caught his attention, the grip on your face loosening. "You know I love you right darlin'?"

You smiled—big and bright—and Joel felt another piece of his soul set back into place. "I love you too Joel."

[novankenn]

(Artwork created/owned by @pilot-boi, No rights Claimed/Implied by the author of this story)

The TA -- Joan(Jaune) Arc

Joan(Jaune) stood in Beacon's courtyard, totally not overwhelmed by the number of students. Her mother had decided Joan(Jaune) needed to get some real world experiences so after discussing (threatening) her sister Glynda Goodwitch, Joan(Jaune) found herself assigned to work as a TA for her aunt and some of the other professors.

Joan(Jaune) was thinking it was a mistake, and she should sneak off and go hang with Saphron and Terra in Argus. Like seriously! Everyone! Literally everyone was walking around with weapons! There were swords, spears, knives, guns of every type, even a scythe! That's a farming tool! Next she'll see someone with a shovel or a rake!

"Of course I would." Joan(Jaune) deadpanned as two students just walked past her with those exact lawn and garden tools balanced on against their shoulders.

An explosion behind her caused Joan(Jaune) to shriek and jump backwards. Causing her to bounce off someone.

"Watch it dude!" came the gruff voice, as the young man just kept walking. Joan(Jaune) sighed. Looking around again for her Auntie, she noticed the girl with a red cap, still laying in a small crater. Seeing no one offering a hand, Joan(Jaune) did the right thing and walked over.

"Welcome to Beacon." the capped girl muttered.

"Need a hand?" Joan(Jaune) asked, while offering her hand to assist.

"Thanks?" the girl replied. Once she was once again vertical, she looked at Joan(Jaune) with her silver eyes. "I'm Ruby Rose."

"Joan(Jaune) Arc." and instantly she growled, as Ruby was giggling at her name. Joan(Jaune) knew exactly why, and was waiting for the question to be asked for the millionth time.

"Joan? Isn't that girl's name?"

"Yes, it is, and before you say anything else... I am a girl." Joan(Jaune) was annoyed, while all her sisters hit the jackpot with in the family gene pool, Joan(Jaune) seemed to have drawn the short straw. What truly baffled her was how NO ONE could tell she was a girl just from the sound of her voice!

"Really?" Ruby tilted her head and squinted, before nodding. "Yep, sorry about that. I see it now."

Joan(Jaune) just deadpanned. She should have gone to Argus. Terra could have gotten her an internship at the CCT.

"Do you want to see my baby?" Ruby beamed as she pulled some weird boxy contraption from under her cap.

"Is that a weapon of some kind?" Joan(Jaune) asked taking a step back.

"Yep!"

"Maybe later?"

"Aw. Phooey."

"Sorry, but I'll take a rain check." Joan(Jaune) offered, "It's just I need to find my Aunt. I'm working here with her for a term."

"Working? You mean you're not a huntsm... huntress-in-training?"

"No."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Huh." Ruby started to fidget. "Um..."

"Yes?"

"Do you know where the auditorium is? I was supposed to head there until I ran into that meanie... which wouldn't have happened if my stupid boob-zilla sister hadn't run off!"

"Sure." Joan(Jaune) smiled warmly. Ruby seemed like a nice person, so why not give her a helping hand. It's not like she's some weapon obsessed gothic loli. Paused and gave Ruby a once over and then shrugged. "Already said I will, can't back out now."

"Did you say something?"

"Just talking to myself."

"Oh. Do you do that often?" Ruby froze, and started to stammer, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm not judging< I swear!"

"Ruby... it's okay. It's okay."

"You not just saying that are you? I mean I would totally understand if you were, considering..."

"RUBY!" Joan(Jaune) shouted to get the red caped gothic loli to focus. "You didn't do anything to be so worked up about. Okay?"

"Okay, I..."

"No."

"No?"

"Do not say I guess." Joan(Jaune) sighed. "There is no middle ground here. You are either okay or your not. So are you okay?"

"Yes!"

"Good, now let's get to the auditorium."

(A/N - I have no idea what it is... but I see these pictures/drawings... and just have a NEED to write something for them. I think I have issues. None of the above is cannon to what ever AU this image is associated with.)

Have you ever drawn rule 63 Jaune?

Not sure, but here she is

Honestly in my style she looks almost exactly the same as normal lol

[schoenpepper]

Hii

Can I request Rook and Azul with an S/O(reader) who really hates their real hair color so they dyed it to another color. The boys never seen their S/O with their original hair color but let's say they found a childhood photo of them and questions their S/O about it. Turns out they had the same hair color as their abusive father so they've dyed it to another when they turned into a pre-teen

Sorry if it's too much and confusing but if you ever do it thank you in advance!

Faded Colors

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread

A/N: See how productive I am (please don't throw your tomatoes at me I'm just a poor college student and November fucked me up bad). Presenting two characters I almost never write because they're...not my favorite.

Masterlist

"Is this you?"

Your heart almost stops beating when you saw what Azul was holding up—a yellowed Polaroid with a familiar child clad in a little black outfit. You sit beside your lover, leaning on his shoulder as you quietly trace over the picture.

"I didn't know your hair was dyed."

You know he won't judge you for it, and certainly not when he hears the reason. But right now, nothing leaves your lips. You freeze in place and nod. Azul nods with you.

You don't need to explain.

Not when he scoots closer to you and wraps his arms around you. You know he understands because he presses the softest kiss on your forehead and murmurs, "you look better with dyed hair."

He knows exactly what to say. Always.

"Shall I help you next time? My dear, would you like to emulate my hair color perhaps?"

At that, you let out a little laugh and nod again.

"Sure. If you can find a good box dye that matches it."

Today won't be the day you tell him about your shattered childhood, but eventually, you'll give him the pieces and let him glue you back together.

You don't need to tell Rook anything. If not because of... unconventional methods, he'll already have an inkling of your past and reasons just by watching you. The way you almost obsessively schedule your hair appointments, how you clam up when the topic turns to family history and your childhood, it's all an open book to him.

He is a hunter, after all. And you are his most precious proie.

It's Saturday.

You wake up in a daze, then panic. Every three weeks, you're supposed to get your roots touched up to avoid even catching a glimpse of your actual hair color, but you got so backed up by exams and projects and events that made it impossible to actually remember anything else. You can buy the dye today, you can still make it—

"Bonjour, mon amour. I come bearing gifts!"

The familiar dramatic greeting makes you jump back, clutching at your hair to desperately hide the fading dye at the roots, smiling awkwardly.

"Oh, Rook, love, I actually need to go out and buy something."

"These?"

He hands you a plastic bag with your usual supplies, pushing you back into your room. "Dépêchez-vous, I shall assist you in reaching your full potential of beauty!"

Taglist:

@fsh1 @lemon-koii @yummyyummyinmytumny

[walkingoneliner]

An analysis of Cater Diamond

(That's mostly me screaming into the void.)

Cater has always had an identity problem. We see this from the very start of the game when he makes it clear how much he hates sweets because of how much his family always had to have them.

We get an idea that his family is a bit...smothering in their ideas and likes. And this is only built upon throughout the game with things such as the "rule of cute" they seem to live by.

Now, I'm not going to say Caters card is definitely him as dorm leader...but it certainly seems it. And if so, you'll notice somthing quite striking.

How different it is from Riddles uniform.

If Riddle's uniform is ouji, Caters is 100% Visual-Kei

It's far from cute, almost general looking.

Now I'm not saying "Oh Cater will be a bad leader and run Heartslabyul to the ground grr grr" as he doesn't seem like the type to do such a thing.

What I am saying, is that in Caters dream, such a uniform is vastly different because in his dream he is likely being himself! The only bad dream we've seen so far was Floyd's! Everyone else has been living their perfect realities, Epel being strong, Kalim being real friends with Jamil, Ruggie's dad coming back for him AND nobody in his village going hungry. So we can presume that in this dream as well we get to see the REAL Cater.

Which brings me to my part two ✌ of this analysis!

Who the heck is Cater?

To figure this out, we have to figure this out from the very core of who inspired him.

Now, I've seen many different guesses, the King of Hearts, the Knave of Hearts and the White Rabbit being the top three.

Well we know he isn't the Knave, that honor is clearly Aces considering he is the one who stole the "tarts upon a summers day." (Google Queen of Hearts poem if you have no idea what I'm talking about)

And honestly? I thought he was the White Rabbit! And i think they wanted us to think this.

We know when the game first released they said the reason Caters eyes were red in some twstunes and classes was because of the fact he originally was supposed to be a rabbit beastman. However, that was changed for an unknown reason.

I believe it was changed because they realized that a better white rabbit would indeed be Trey.

I know what you're thinking.

Trey? As the White Rabbit?

Hear me out.

Trey can fit the role of the White Rabbit very well as he,

Is Riddles right hand man. Many people assumed him to be the King because of this, but really, the Rabbit does far more for the Queen than the King does.

Has an odd obsession with teeth. It was a joke from the get go that none of us even considered.

Has a large family...enough said in the rabbit comparison.

How nervous he is around Riddle! Now every character is nervous around Riddle just as every character is nervous around the Queen. But it's noticeable how much more nervous Trey is than Cater, in the same way the Rabbit fears the Queen more than the King.

Finally, he is the one to smooth things over with the other students when Riddle rampages. Similarly, the White Rabbit is the only one of the Queens court to speak to the others in wonderland.

So what does this leave Cater with?

The role of King.

Now, the King doesn't do much in Alice in Wonderland, nor in the book Alice's Adventures Underground/Alice's Adventures in Wonderland which the flim Alice in Wonderland was based off.

Does that not remind you of Cater who is the most stand offish of the Heartslabyul cast. He doesn't do much at all to impact the story. All we see him do us use the others for his gain painting the roses (somthing I truthfully can't connect to the King despite my best efforts) and we see him try to convince Riddle to go easy on the first years, specifically Ace and Deuce.

I fear if I keep speaking, I'll end up running in circles. But for now, this is where I'll end it.

The fact he was the one to try convincing Riddle to go easy on them was a huge hint he was the King of Hearts the whole time, as one of the kings few lines is "Can't we have a trial?/Oh just a little trial?" And in the book he attempts to calm the Queen by reminding her that Alice is simply a child, so they should go easy on her punishment.

Not to mention he has the gavel that the King of Hearts uses...but that's just a nice little detail.

Cater is indeed the King of Hearts which we can easily trace evidence of back to the start of the story.

Despite this, I don't have any idea what Caters dream could be, but I do know it will be fascinating to see one of the least developed characters of twst finally shine!

If y'all have questions, additions or corrections, comment and let a girl know or send me an ask!

[dreamscapeee222]

Marriage Headcannons

Jungkook x reader

Masterlist

Jungkook couldn’t wait. He’d been holding onto the ring for weeks, planning the “perfect” proposal, but one lazy evening at home, you made him laugh so hard he thought, why not now? He pulls you into his lap, his heartbeat so loud you can feel it, and blurts out, “Marry me.” When you think he’s joking, he grabs the ring from his pocket and adds, “I don’t need fancy. I just need you.” The simplicity of it, paired with the way he looks at you, makes the moment unforgettable.

He wants it to feel like you two. Nothing over-the-top—just an intimate gathering with friends, family, and a lot of laughter. He insists on writing his own vows, and when he reads them, there’s not a dry eye in the room. “I’m not just marrying my love,” he says, voice trembling with emotion, “I’m marrying my best friend.” When the reception starts, he’s the life of the party, dragging you to the dance floor and making sure the night is filled with joy.

Jungkook’s the kind of husband who makes everyday moments feel special. He randomly hugs you from behind while you’re brushing your teeth, kisses your forehead when he passes by, and sneaks little notes in your bag. Your nights often end with the two of you sprawled on the couch, his head in your lap as you play with his hair. He says things like, “This is my favorite part of the day,” and means it every single time.

Arguments with Jungkook are rare but intense—he feels everything deeply. He’s not great at hiding his emotions, so if he’s upset, you know. But he can’t stand being at odds with you for long. After some space to cool down, he always comes back with those wide, puppy-dog eyes and a quiet, “I was wrong. Can we fix this?” He makes up for it with cuddles so tight you can’t help but forgive him.

Jungkook treats anniversaries like personal holidays. He starts planning weeks in advance, whether it’s a surprise getaway, recreating your first date, or making an elaborate video of your favorite memories. He always writes you a letter, too—filled with his deepest thoughts and reminders of how much you mean to him. “I don’t want to ever forget how lucky I am,” he tells you every year.

Physical affection is his love language, and it shows. If you’re in the same room, Jungkook will find a way to touch you—holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder, or even just hooking his pinky around yours. He’s also obsessed with giving you forehead kisses. “It’s like I’m recharging my heart,” he jokes with a sheepish smile.

Jungkook dreams big but loves the idea of keeping life simple with you. A cozy house, a couple of dogs, and weekend road trips are his version of bliss. He often talks about your future with an excited glint in his eye. “Imagine us, like, fifty years from now,” he says one night. “Still eating ramen at 2 a.m. but with grey hair.”

You’ll catch Jungkook at his softest during late-night talks. He lies on his back, staring at the ceiling while spilling his deepest thoughts. “Do you think we’re doing life right?” he asks one night, his hand reaching for yours. These moments are raw and vulnerable, and they always leave you feeling closer than ever.

Your life with Jungkook feels like a series of snapshots strung together—simple yet extraordinary, tender yet filled with so much laughter. He makes love feel easy, like coming home to your favorite song on repeat.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[ghouljams]

Heya Ghoul... I have a question.

How do you tell if you've been like... affected by something? My ex practices Wiccan stuff and she is very obsessive and still texts my old number and like... yeah, I'm worried about her doing something. We were together roughly two years and she's still trying to contact me after a year of no contact and she's saying how like I'm her soulmate and stuff and I'm just... not into her at all anymore. Like she gave me emotional trauma and stuff, almost convinced me to move up to where she is (long distance, manipulative) and I'm not comfortable going out of state right now because that's a huge reset I don't want to do again...

Not to ramble here too much, I'm sorry if it's too weird or something so feel free to ignore this, but I really don't know who to ask in terms of the practice. I'm also not really sure how to bring up the topic of spells or hexes or whatever, I'm not trying to be dismissive in any way but it's like talking about just feels stifling and awkward. We (ex and I) never really talked about her practices and stuff, but sometimes she'd talk about a ritual she did or wanted to do, or spell jars she wanted to make... I never really learned how to talk about it, either, in general so maybe it just feels weird because it's foreign. I don't doubt it exists, but it's not something I understand very well.

I didn't intend to dump this on you but I did so in sorry about that. Thank you for reading, I hope you have a great day.

Hello hello you have come to the right witch.

First of all FUCK WICCA that shit is just magic stollen from other religions and closed practices, plus it was created by some random white dude in like the 80s so it's not even this deeply ancient practice that people think it is.

Anyway Wiccans also have this whole thing about "do no harm" but lemme tell you something, i am not Wiccan and I will do harm. So here's what you're gonna do.

We're going to start with a cleanse. I like doing a Limpia, since that's the most hands on and accessible.

You're gonna get an egg and rub that Thang all over your body. I mean all over, and try to focus on "cleaning" yourself off with it. Be careful not to break it but make sure you rub it over the top of your head, sole of your feet, stomach/heart/hands, you wanna get anything you think feels bad. Then we're gonna crack the egg into a glass of water.

Now you can read the egg and see if she's actually hexed you, but for your purposes it doesn't matter because even if she hasn't we're gonna throw some salt, ceyanne/chili powder/red pepper flakes, and some garlic into that water. Then you're gonna toss the whole thing down the toilet, close the lid and flush it.

Cleanse done.

Next your gonna take a jar or a bag and you're gonna put anything sharp that you have in your house and you're willing to get rid of into it. Nails, thorns, thumb tacks, needles, pins, toss it in there. If you're using a jar add some vinegar, if your using a bag don't. Then we're doing hot stuff again: chili powder, red pepper flakes, anything spicy goes in your ward. Add some salt. Spit in it. Write a warning on a piece of paper "anyone who sends harm my way will get it back 3 fold" and shove it in there. Then bury that thing. Preferably you do this at the edge of your property but if you can't bury anything out it over your door.

Done.

Other witches get real fancy with their wards but I'm lazy and most people don't have a ton of fancy witchcraft stuff, so we work with what we've got.

Otherwise. Idk magic isn't real, the worst she can do is just like keep trying to contact you and being annoying. She'll get bored eventually and move on to tormenting someone else, but if she does send anything your way or you feel like you're not acting like yourself, do a cleanse.

[misc-obeyme]

If I had a nickel for every time a dating game I'm obsessed with ends abruptly, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice. First The Arcana, now Obey Me. Am I just a harbinger of romance game death?

Honestly, I expected something like this to happen eventually, but NOW?!? It's such odd timing with new songs, features, and merch, coming out right now. But, I guess it lines up with what their "plan" is. I'm too far deep in the brain rot to let this fandom go, though. I'm going to be in my 80s at the nursing home ranting about it to the poor, unsuspecting volunteers.

I mean this is part of why I am still surprised. Just because it seemed like they had a lot of plans happening, like you say with the songs and everything. It feels like something bad happened and they were forced to do it or something. But I don't really know anything about that kinda stuff so I could be wrong lol.

I'm sure the nursing home staff will love to hear all about it~

And even though this is the end, I'll likely still be here for a bit too. I've already spun off into crazy OC time like I have so many stories still to write!

[harkingspot]

Heyo it’s me, I’m here to ruin ya day

Thoughts on Mitzi and Mordecai’s parallels and how desperate they are to find answers about Altas’s death?

mordecai heller and mitzi may: a piece on grieving.

FIRST of all, i apologise that this response took a very long time to cook up. i wanted it to be as fleshed out as possible because i do have a lot to say in this regard. the train of thought initially departed because of the widespread misunderstanding around mitzi’s character. to which i thought to myself: well it’s strange that people can easily extend their empathy towards mordecai, who (to me) has undoubtedly done worse. but what’s even worse is that, if you really look closely— if we made a venn diagram for these two, there’s a large chunk of overlap between them.

(p.s. now that i am proofreading all of this i realise its a bit different from what you asked but nonetheless i hope it captures the complex nature of grief as a theme in lackadaisy, especially when discussing the parallels between mitzi and mordecai)

so let’s break it down.

if someone wanted to read lackadaisy and asked me if there were any main themes that circled around the story— i would say: grief. more specifically, the consequences of untapped grief. mean the story itself starts off with the mysterious and brutal death of atlas may, who was THE big cat behind the lackadaisy. atlas himself was an enigma, and i have mentioned this before in another post. his position within the story bears a lot of similarities to rose quartz as they play the ghastly spouse that haunts the narrative.

however, this is not about atlas, but instead the two people that served as his vessel after his passing:

his wife, mitzi, and his right-hand man, mordecai.

instead of dissecting this theme individually, finding the differences between the two, i thought it would do the analysis more justice to extract it directly from the source material itself. initially i wanted to talk about how this grieving bleeds out onto others around them (e.g. mitzi forging a check from wick, mordecai kneecapping viktor).

let’s take “hamstring” and “monomania” for example, as they both converse over asa’s claims at their lunch. but if you really think about it, it was never about that.

this scene embodies a power struggle between the two. for one, mitzi’s mentions of mordecai’s “obsession” as a deflection. she sees his rigid loyalty as both a flaw and a threat. by framing mordecai as overly fixated, she’s able to position herself as the more pragmatic party who is trying to keep afloat. which is true and mitzi, rightfully, views mordecai as a “relentless former associate.” his meticulous nature, his refusal to let go of the past, and his allegiance to ideals that no longer align with business’ survival paints him as the wildcard to her. then again, it’s hard to take empty words from someone that had abandoned the very concept he claims to protect.

that’s not to say mordecai doesn’t return the sentiment, because he very much does. to him, mitzi’s pragmatism looks more like opportunism, evident in her willingness to bend rules, and in his perspective, betray atlas’ vision to keep the business alive. while she plays the capable leader, that imagery clashes with his perception of her as someone who lacks discipline— possibly bred by the history that mordecai knows her to be atlas’ wife and nobody more. he sees mitzi as culpable in the lackadaisy’s downfall and he makes sure she knows this.

but at the end of the day, they are having this conversation inside the same car. while one might interpret this being the main divergence between the two, we can see a striking commonality in which they are failed actors starring in roles they never wanted.

what do i mean by this? while the dont outwardly acknowledge it, grief survives in this scenario as a subtext. you can tell by the use of dialogue. mitzi’s sarcastic tone and pointed remarks, almost shoving the spotlight towards mordecai, suggests a stage of denial and pain that comes with her grieving over atlas. remember what mordecai said to mitzi in response?

“losses are endemic to this business. you��ve brought them on yourself in your persistence… as though you could bring the remains of atlas’ estate to anything but further disgrace.”

his crticisim of mitzi isn’t just about the state of the lackadaisy, in fact, mordecai subconsciously targets himself for his own inability to move on. mordecai and mitzi are different people, that is no question. but this scene serves as a great analogy that this conversation could very much be happening in their heads. this is a conversation not between two people but between one and oneself.

here’s also another thing to note: their seating arrangement.

whether or not tracy meant for this to be intentional, there’s a lot you can take in this scene in regards to their character. mitzi sits in the passenger seat at the front, where the light is more prominent. it symbolises her active role as the current face of the lackadaisy and the one taking on visible responsibility for its perseverance. however, note that she is still in the passenger seat, not the driver’s— mitzi is losing control, she is struggling to move forward in the wake of atlas’ passing. but she’s still not fully in charge of its trajectory, think of how asa and mordecai looks down on her current position.

occasionally, she’d glance back at mordecai to speak, which definitely shows her discomfort and mistrust towards him, she’s unwilling to fully confront him. and in my opinion, not only does this reveal her vulnerability, this also shows her internal discontent.

mordecai, on the other hand, is sitting behind her (literally AND metaphorically) in the shadows. he sits in the back, detached from the lackadaisy but not completely. he observes mitzi from behind, his direct vision fixed on the back of her head, almost as if he’s reflecting on her choices and her struggles— perhaps… confronted with his own betrayal.

plus, if you’re thinking: what about the holes in the windows? GREAT question. despite how they want to present themselves, be it independent (mitzi) or calculated (mordecai), they’re both incredibly vulnerable individuals.

as they sit in this confined space together, they breathe in the air of their inescapable bond and mutual dependence. their dynamic equal parts antagonistic and deeply intertwined.

[potatoplace]

Mastermind needs a part 2 🥵🥵🥵

Part 2 is in the works... 🤭

[whollyjoly]

i just have a feeling / you're better off than you think you are

(song insp.)

[monochromeblend]

fluorescent shrimp

[samarecharm]

People who really like shuake also seem to write themselves into a corner wrt Akechi and his relationship to Akiras team. Contrary to popular belief, the team, including Haru, does not hate Akechi. At worst, they tolerate him and deal with his attitude. Hes a good teammate and respectable fighter and the team recognizes that at the end of the day, he was a teenager who was manipulated and abused by a man who saw him as disposable. Just about every thief understands this intimately. They have the same mindset wrt adults who take advantage of the people beneath them. Under different circumstances they wouldve been friends. And if u approach it from that angle, it becomes less about Akechi being the sole person who ‘gets’ Akira, and more about the thieves being the only people in the world who ‘get’ Akechi.

When you expand your thoughts to include the thieves as members of his Team and not roadblocks that get in the way of your ideal shipping dynamic, you allow urself to give Akechi and Akira more depth and nuance to their own relationship.

Akira and Akechi are wildcards; both of them struggle with the face they choose to display to the world. Its the first time Akira interacts with someone who is, at a literal, technical level, his ‘equal’. But Akechi is one of many firsts for Akira yeah? Every thief has their bond with Akira thats completely unique and personal. Akechi will never be the person who witnesses Akiras Awakening, hes never the person who watches Akira have his restless nights alone in the attic, and hes never the person who realizes in real time that the teenager hes housing is just Some Kid, not the delinquent hes been warned about. Hes not Ann or Yusuke, or any of the thieves; he doesnt have the time or experience that they have with Akira, and I think its interesting to explore that part of their relationship, shippy or not.

Akechi is someone who is incredibly lonely and self depreciating despite his cockiness and attitude. He has no positive bonds to speak of save for his connection with Sae. To have him see a team that works together and cares for each other, how do you think he would feel? Out of place? Inferior in some way? Angry about how hes been alone for so long in this single minded quest for revenge? Wouldnt that be a point of struggle between the two of them? I think what makes shuake good for me is knowing that Akechi needs alot of time to heal, and the thieves would want to help with that process. They do it bc they care, bc Akira cares, and bc they trust Akiras opinion (and he trusts theirs in return); if Akira feels like Akechi is someone who can be trusted Now after everything thats happened, then the thieves would do their best to help. And how would Akechi feel about that? Angry about the show of pity? That even now, he has no real say in what happens to him? Or begrudgingly grateful that they are cordial with him? Because they do care, he KNOWS they care, they care TOO MUCH actually; but the one thing he values over brawn and wits is honesty- fighting for what you believe in without having to use soft words to justify it.

[shy-sapphic-ace]

Guys should I write a Dracula musical. Should I???

[margindoodles2407]

Hey so you know how yesterday I posted that art of Ahsoka and Rex for High Fantasy Star Wars?

Well. Uh. In the process of doing that. I realized I don't actually... have an official reference for Rex himself.

So guess what I'm starting todayyyy

[snootlestheangel]

SoapGaz

*cracks knuckles* They're definitely idiots to lovers but as in they're idiots and they become lovers, not as in "oblivious to the other's extreme attraction until a climatic moment"

Who was the one to propose? I want it to be Soap so badly but also think it'd be very on brand for them/their relationship if Gaz also proposed. I'm talking like the Spiderman meme where they point at each other when they realize and then they laugh and neither can even say yes, they try to kiss but they're both still laughing too hard. It's just such a beautiful mental image that I have right now :')

Who stressed more over wedding planning? Gaz. Gaz a thousand times over. Soap is experienced with weddings and wedding planning (he has so many in-law siblings and almost all of his cousins his age/older are married.) but Gaz doesn't have any experience with even being at a wedding, much less planning his own.

Who decorated the house? Gaz. He's got style and taste, but he a hundred percent uses a lot of Soap's artwork :)

Who does the cooking? Soap. He was taught and raised well by such a large family that food was just a staple of his upbringing.

Who is more organized? Hot take? Soap is the more organized one. He's a demo expert, yes, but those things are fucking dangerous! He may not be cleaner necessarily, but he knows certain things CANNOT mix, and he got so into the habit of putting things into separate categories that it just carried over into civilian living.

Who suggested kids first? Soap, jokingly. But in terms of who was serious when suggesting it? Gaz. Soap had made a comment about "what if we had one?" while at a MacTavish family event and pointing at a little niece/nephew of his as a joke. Gaz had to play along with it but internally he was flipping out. He brings up the conversation of kids as a serious topic a few weeks later.

Who's the cuddler? Both are very physically affectionate. But in terms of 'must be touching you at all times?' it's Gaz. Soap runs hot I feel like, so especially at night he doesn't really want cuddles but Gaz is like "too bad you're stuck with me >:) "

Who's big spoon/little spoon? Gaz is big spoon at night, but during the day when cuddling on the couch or something it's Soap

What's their favorite non-sexual activity? Museum dates. Gaz is such a little nerd and Soap loves art. Museum dates are perfect for them, cause it's something calm and beautiful, there's an opportunity for Gaz to get a new book or something, and for a desert afterwards.

Who comes home drunk at 3am? I wanna say Soap. He's just such a golden retriever that if a bunch of their friends are hanging out at bars, he's right there with them. Gaz is there, too, but he doesn't usually drink to drunkenness like Soap does.

Who kills the spiders? Gaz. It's not that Soap is afraid of them but he argues that it's best if he and the spider remain on opposite sides of the room. Gaz doesn't give a flying fuck

Who falls asleep first? Depends. If it's during a late-night movie in their flat, it's Soap. Gaz gets too invested in every movie they watch so he can never fall asleep first. But if it's right when they go to bed, it's usually Gaz cause Soap needs to do something like doodle/journal for a bit to calm his mind before he can.

A headcanon: Trying to decide if I want to keep this SFW or just go the nasty route... I'll keep it safe for now. They do pretty much everything together, especially on base. They just love each other's company so much and both thrive off social interaction so it's like a win-win. They'll workout together, they eat together, they go grocery shopping together. They're such an iconic duo it's hard to ignore the fact they're together. ALSO, I fully believe Soap is just whipped for Gaz's smile/laugh (aren't we all?) that he does everything in his power to see it/hear him laugh. Even if Gaz's 'laugh' is just a bunch of wheezing punctuated by laughing sounds, Soap still finds it so beautiful. Anything he can do to make Gaz smile/laugh was worth doing

Do they have any rituals? Gaz is the one with the most rituals, so to speak. He's got a whole skin care routine (that he dragged Soap into), he's got some pretty good oral hygiene. Soap has a whole morning ritual that is far too complicated for Gaz's understanding. It's about how he makes his coffee and it's one of the most bizarre things Gaz has ever witnessed.

Who has the most patience? Probably Gaz. Even though, in the field, they're both patient (they're both snipers and Soap is a demo man, both roles require a lot of physical patience), Soap is pretty short-tempered when it comes to most other things. Like, physically, he's patiently waiting for something, but when you listen to him talking to Gaz, it's just complaining about how bored/impatient he is. It takes a lot to get Gaz genuinely angry at something, which is not to say he's going from 0-100 in these instances. He's definitely showing he's annoyed at everything, but whether he actually acts on it or not is the determining factor of his patience.

A gif that describes their relationship: I actually really like this one. It's just *sighs* I don't know but it's SoapGaz in my heart

[deadbeandrop]

actually y'know what i guess i'll talk about it while i'm here

i think about this scene a lot regarding him and (obviously) this episode in general, but especially when slinkman is like... actually a character that gets development and changes over the course of the show, it really does say a lot to me

and with the placement of scenes here, it's right in between lazlo, raj and clam getting slinkman to muster up the courage to show off his past aspirations, to give it another go, only to be reminded of how all that turned out, panic, and flee back to what's comfortable... aaand in between him finding out everything is actually lumpus' fault, and very purposefully sabotaging a budding dream, at that

and i think he's sort of gone through life in this way for a long time, this humble and passive acceptance of the roles and duty he's been placed in, of the world around him deciding who he's supposed to be. especially to lumpus. a best friend, sure, but nowadays an assistant, an emotional support crux to keep him (and the camp) from falling apart. i've always ran along with the idea that running camp together was lumpus' idea from the start, and look how it's turned out

i love how he says "pull yourself together", too, the tone he has as if he's scolding himself for daring to think or try to be anything like that again, that he should know better by now, when the moment's far passed

although, i don't think fame and danger/excitement are what he really wants out of life, even deep down — not anymore, at least. in the end, it's a lot more about healthy self development and sort of taking back "control" of his own path in life, right? and at the same time, a little of all that now and then wouldn't hurt...

see i've been typing this out for an hour but forget everything i just said and let's get slinkman a motorcycle