#I was hit by the mental image and needed to get it out :D

[hiimherefortheuntamed]

No context yes spoiler riff art :)

I think my thought process (such that there was [not] one) was basically WWX and the racoon and uhhh a magical girl transformation a la Miraculous Ladybug?

Heavily inspired by this still from the manhua

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Madam Jīn & Jīn Zǐxuān, Madam Jīn & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jīn Zǐxuān & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jīn Zǐxuān & Luó “Mián Mián” Qīngyáng, Luó “Mián Mián” Qīngyáng & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn Characters: Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jīn Zǐxuān, Luó “Mián Mián” Qīngyáng, Madam Jīn (Módào Zǔshī), Jīn Guāngshàn Additional Tags: Crack, Fluff and Humor, Jīn Sect Wèi Wúxiàn, Chaos Gremlin Wei Wuxian, the chaotic jin trio we could have had, Genius Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, BAMF Luó “Mián Mián” Qīngyáng, Found Family Series: Part 2 of Weaponized Chaos: The Jin Sect AU Summary:

Series of random oneshots from the Jin Sect Wei Wuxian AU

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Ep. 16: The Happily Ever After

Hello! =D

I can't believe this is my last We Are post wow- It feels like just yesterday I was here typing out my first one because I had one too many Thoughts about it. Anyways, not to get too sentimental on main, here you go:

Warning: not a very long post, actually 😊😅

The result of long-term exposure to his boyfriend and his extreme levels of cheesiness hehe

Seriously though, I love how Fang is slowly but surely opening up to loud gestures of love (I think previously, he just wasn't used to loving loudly, he was used to loving with his whole heart but keeping it to himself because he never felt safe enough to express it).

I love how they're from absolutely different faculties and are still studying together like yess go besties who are in love with each other but are too oblivious to realise it!

Peem with Phum usually: *swats at Phum at the slightest sign of PDA even though he really enjoys it*

Peem when others say something about their relationship: So, Phum, what do you say, want me to kiss you senseless right here right now?

(And we all know what Phum's answer is gonna be hehe)

Hasn't even been two minutes in the room and they're already breaking into the bed 😭😭

(I really love this scene btw, the simple fun of it, and even though it's not sensual, it's intimate and very them.)

This pair of besties is gonna kill me istg

They keep hitting me with banger after banger of emotional lines and my heart is already weak don't do this to me 😭😭

Frankly though, I like this scene very much, the "I loved you no matter who i knew you as" and "I have always loved you" of it all really got to me.

Poor Tan 😭

That's why you never brag about something before it gets over Tan-

I love how Fang not only lets him lie on his lap but also scratches his hair hehe

And how Peem doesn't hesitate one bit to give Tan a good smack upside the head 😭

AND THE SCENE WITH TAN "ACCIDENTALLY" LETTING OUT THAT CHAIN HAS A CRUSH ON PUN AND PUN STILL BEING SO DAMN OBLIVIOUS I'M DYING 😭😂😭

I adore this scene a ridiculous amount, but I love even more that it was Phum who planned it like yess he's been wingman-ing his phi and friend since Day 1 and he never stopped.

Others have gaydars, PhumPeem have faen-dars: they know when their faen is looking at them or coming towards them.

Not a bad power to have, honestly. I approve.

THIS SCENE.

THE FRIENDSHIP. THE PAST, PRESENT AND THE FUTURE OF IT.

THE OG 5 (note how Peem is sitting at the centre? It's indicative of how he's the centre of the group and if I had to make an educational guess, probably the reason why they're all together in the first place).

This made me cry.

I have nothing else to say about this except this is one of the best damn shots of this show, which is saying something cause the cinemtaography up till this has been ridiculously good.

Of course. <33

And I'll be writing about how they spill the tea about their respective faens

😳

Tan: *tries to be slow and sexy*

Fang: no. We're doing this now.

Honestly though, this kiss was amazing, as were all their other kisses. Hats off to AouBoom, they absolutely slayed.

Et tu, Toey? T~T

Also another very nice scene.

I knew where this was going (how could anyone not after all those 15 eps) and I think Phum would have definitely gone over to sit on Peem's lap (@Peach thank you for that mental image btw 😭) if not for the structural instability of boats on land (I did sit on once with and trust me, those things maybe super sturdy or whatever in water, but they do NOT belong on land, especially not on the beach).

I-

I'll be right there in the corner sobbing my eyes out if you need me.

The way he kept saying his name, like he was actually tasting it, trying out all the different tones, and the way Phum kept replying, all smiles and soft voice, I-

I can't with these two. They're too damn much for my poor heart.

This also inspired another smut fic but SHUSH

No, nope, not doing this-

SIGH.

Okay, so see how Phum says "Thank you for being a good story in my life?" For Phum, having Peem in his life really does feel like a story, something out of the books he read (headcanon) and something too good to be true. But he's starting to realize that this is true, that Peem is here to stay.

Peem says "Thank you for letting me step into your life" because he knows all the issues Phum has, that it's hard for him to really let people in. But he let Peem in to love him, and Peem is grateful because it gave him someone to love and be the comfort zone for, but also gave him someone who loved him.

In this essay, I will-

BROTHERS-IN-LAW.

Also, no kidding, I got a mental image of Fang and Peem sitting and sipping at their drinks while Phum and Tan argue and compete like children, and when they go too far, Fang and Peem let out this long suffering sigh while they try to pull apart their husbands.

Did I say husbands? Oops-

HEHEHE

I didn't see you denying anything, Fang~

got another fic idea but we don't talk about those

🥺🥺🫶🏼

Okay, about that dinner scene. I actually kinda liked it. The awkwardness of it, the halted conversation, the prompted actions. As with the rest of the series, they kept it real, and I'm glad for it.

A lot of BLs, especially Thai BLs forgive the parents too soon too fast, and I really like they did not do that here.

Phum just (sorta) started on this path of being on talking terms with his dad (not forgiveness, or forgetting what he's done, mind you) and I'm going to be carefully neutral about it. If Phum likes it, well and good. If the father does something Phum doesn't like well *looks at two of my wips specifically* I always keep back-ups.

Peem is never letting that go hehe

(I don't think Phum minds all that much now, because he did end up with Peem, fuck you Kluen)

Also I'm two eps behind on Wandee Goodday and I hear Title finally got a nice boyfriend role? Good for him!

FOREHEAD KISS MY BELOVED.

(...should I change my header again? Nah, I'm happy with what it is rn)

I love how even if it was never explicitly shown beyond Tan, literally everyone and their pets know about Chain and Pun except Chain and Pun 😭😭👍🏼

We Are probably has the most kisses out of all the BLs I've watched and somehow the very last kiss gets the Best Kiss award. Surprising, but well-deserved. The kissed like they were dying and Chain tried to climb Pun like a tree, and I was gleefully watching and cheering them on.

You're covering his eyes, when you've literally made out with him naked, that's some hypocrisy there, Q *raises eyebrows*

One word: roses.

(Did Peem ever tell him? Did Phum figure it out? Does Phum give him roses for every single occasion now? Hm... guess we'll never know... Fic writers, this is your cue-)

'HAPPY' has it's special place 🥺🥺

I now know for sure that the simplicity and boldness of this painting was absolutely on purpose. The other paintings in the gallery are stunning.

Friends. <33

Also, due to Tumblr's restrictions, I couldn't add the last pic, but Peem's/Phuwin's face looks hilarious in the very last shot 😭😂

That's all! See you ne- oh, right. Well, see you the next time I get brainrot so bad about a BL I have to write smut about it hehe.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have 🍛 (imagine it's your favourite dish)

All my We Are posts.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for setting a boundary on a Minecraft server that I didn’t want to interact with one of the admins after he quit my partner’s dnd campaign?

I (20, nonbinary) was on a lgbtq+ discord and had become friends with a trans guy (henceforth referred to as A) who was a minor. This was easy to forget as he made raunchy jokes, got drunk and high on call, and I have horrible memory issues (so I often opt to just remember people’s names and topics I should avoid around them via making little notes.)

We would very often end up in a vc together with others from the server, including our respective partners, chilling, playing games, sharing fun things we found. (His partner will henceforth be referred to as B, and mine as C) (I had known his partner before from another server and was happy to see them getting along then eventually getting together)

(C especially would always give advice like “if you’re drinking, make sure to eat/get some carbs, drinking on an empty stomach is bad!” Because they love researching medical effects to make their writing and worldbuilding feel more realistic)

There were a handful of incidents where I believe I was the asshole

I loved showing off games and musicals to people, and this has the unfortunate effect of sometimes unintentionally saying words that anger people.

Incident 1) I was playing a game and mindlessly saying location names- and I got a dm- I pause to glance at it- and I got a message saying “hey remember [redacted] is A’s deadname and he’s uncomfortable that you keep saying it”. I pause, make a mental note of “but. It. Wasn’t directed at him?” Then continue playing, dodging saying the name for the rest of my time showing the game.

Incident 2) I was showing off a musical I like- and there’s a cute scene where a character suggests a name for another character, saying that they don’t need it anymore, and it just so happened to be A’s deadname again.

Incident 3) I was playing Sea of Thieves solo- and struggling. I’d been hit by lightning, and now was being attacked by a shark. A and B were making fun of the fact I had slipped into an accent out of sheer panic so I (enraged and not thinking at all) said “I’ll name the damn shark after you, fillet and gut it!” (A really likes sharks. I also like sharks but apparently not as much as him)

(I apologized for this on call later, saying that I was emotional and mad, and if I’d been thinking I wouldn’t have said that. I also apologized for the previous incident about the deadname)

A and B had also joined C’s dnd campaign alongside another one of our mutual friends, D (who did not leave the campaign, but that’s not important right now). I have reason to believe C told the others they couldn’t be either of the two classes I said my character thought they were, but I don’t know. Things went great (or so I thought) we got some plot trails (one connected to the race of my character, one being D’s character’s family) and everything seemed fine- A was flirting with a lot of the enemies and NPCS (C found the character arts via google images and unfortunately ‘attractive’ seems to be a main character design commonality)

Then one day, I woke up to check the campaign discord because of a ping and noticed both A and B had left the server and there was no new messages- confused, I hopped into call with C- who explained that A had dropped a long list of accusations about Myself and C, essentially insulting us and accusing us of things like ‘sending NSFW things to kids’, ‘acting like the victim’, ‘naming a character A’s deadname’, ‘DM favouritism’, and a whole bunch of other things. I was- shocked.

(A also apparently messaged D and said something like “sorry for ending the campaign like that, if you want to use your character you can always write with me!” And got angry when D said they didn’t leave the campaign.)

(C is also a generally sex-repulsed Asexual. They were forcing themself to become more comfortable with it because of A’s raunchy jokes)

This was followed by some harassment from A and B.

A tried publicly calling out C on social media (which C had only used to make a single post sharing something they had made for someone’s art/design) for “sending nsfw things to minors” and on another platform for “being a fake ass bitch”, as well as both of them heckling a new haircut I’d been nervous but excited to try and get for years and just figured out how to ask for (responses such as “omg no ew why would you do that”), as well as A saying “no I don’t” a picture I shared of C and I going to see a musical together with the caption “you wish you were here!” (All were shared and reacted to publicly on the discord server)

(To be fair about the haircut- the stylist had cut part of it a little too short and it made my face look especially chubby)

This is where I start to feel less like the asshole

So I went on the discord for the Minecraft server and said “hey, I don’t feel comfortable interacting with A after the allegations they’ve been making”. A immediately got defensive and angry about me saying “allegations” and kicked me from the discord before I could defend myself (and C).

I explained the situation to the admin of the server we’d met on, who also owned the Minecraft server, and apologized to them that they had to moderate. Both A and I lost our mod privileges on the discord, and I also found out A had been given multiple “cease and desist”s for… saying/sharing vulgar/nearly nsfw things on the discord before. And they did it again. The reason they were never banned or kicked was that the admin had made it in hopes that A would make friends.

Now. To a part that still horrifies me.

A legitimately found out C’s mom’s number, and called her to insist that C sent NSFW things to minors. (C suspects that they got it from a time C called the police out of genuine concern for A who hadn’t responded to any messages in around a day)

C also told me that the most they had sent A was like. Attractive anime guys from the first page of google images because C really liked big anime man chests. A apparently sent C full on p*rn once.

The problem is- I feel like I was the asshole- even though most of the “incidents” were accidents because I try to not remember someone’s deadname because- it’s? Not their name anymore? And it didn’t help that I genuinely do not remember being told it was their deadname until after incident 1.

Was I the Asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[apocalypseornaw]

A Memory or Me (Pt 1/3)

Sam Winchester X Reader

You and Sam have been together for a while now. You're head over heels for him and he feels the same...doesn't he?

Perks of hunting meant you only ran in such a big circle of people. You'd known Sam and Dean for years, occasionally hunting with Dean during the years Sam was at Stanford. Things never got weird between you and Dean for multiple reasons, one being you knew you weren't his usual type. You by far didn't look like you'd be walking the catwalk any time soon, your thighs were thick and you always had a tummy. Don't get it wrong Dean was an amazing friend and he was easy on the eyes but you and him had always been simply that, friends. 

Sam on the other hand. The two of you had been friends for years and when he came back to hunting he was rightfully in mourning for his girlfriend. You hadn't never meant to develop an attraction to the younger Winchester but it wasn't exactly something you had control over. Who wouldn't fall for Sam? He was tall, broad and absolutely gorgeous. Beyond his looks he was sweet and caring but still would stand toe to toe with anything that crawled out of hell the same as Dean.

Luckily Sam never seemed to notice but unfortunately Dean did and for the longest he would go to the extremes to amuse himself at your expense because he knew just how much you did like his brother. He credited himself with pushing the two of you together.

 

The hunt was rough, leaving all of you bruised and sore. Dean and Sam had decided to check out the bar next door while you opted to go to sleep. 

You were sitting on the bed when they started to leave and Dean winked at you from the doorway “Now try not to shoot us when we get back sweetheart” “I won't shoot Sam” you told him with a smile which made Sam laugh and Dean shook his head “Yeah I bet you wouldn't wanna hurt him” 

You could feel your eyes widen even as Dean pulled Sam out of the door behind him, the sound of his laughter drifting back to your ears even through the door. You were gonna kill him if he ended up letting your feelings slip to Sam.

____________________________

Eventually you got settled in one of the beds and started to doze off but before sleep could pull you under fully you heard a key in the door.  A part of you registered to grab a weapon but you could make out Sam and Dean's voices.

You sat up in the bed and watched as Dean eased the door open, Sam's larger frame draped over his shoulder. “Easy there” he mumbled as he helped Sam into the room. You raised an eyebrow at Dean who shrugged “I forget Sammy doesn't hold his liquor like I do” 

Sam was leaning against the wall just inside the door and grinned brightly “Hey Y/N” you laughed lightly “Hey Sam” He cut his eyes towards Dean and you think he meant to whisper but instead he said fairly loudly “She's so damn pretty”

You knew your eyebrows were probably at your hairline by that point but Dean was grinning, obviously pleased with himself as he nodded “I know Sammy, I know” he offered to help Sam to one of the beds but Sam pushed off the wall “I can do it!”

You were trying not to laugh when Sam narrowly avoided ending up on the floor and instead flopped down heavily on the foot of the bed you were currently in. Dean never really managed to get drunk anymore but this was once you couldn't describe the drunk in question as anything short of adorable.

___________________________

You moved a little towards the end of the bed and touched Sam's shoulders gently “Sam” He jumped when he realized he'd sat on your bed instead of the one him and Dean were sharing “Y/N…I'm so sorry!”

Dean was biting his lip by this point so you shot him a look to be quiet before saying “It's ok. I was just wondering if you need help with your boots” 

When his eyes got big the mental image of a golden retriever hit your mind “You wanna help me?” You smiled despite yourself “Yeah Sam I wanna help you” you slipped out of the bed and cut your eyes at Dean “Come help me you damn enabler”

His chuckle was deep as he walked over and squatted down next to you. You slipped Sam's left boot off while Dean slipped his right boot off. By that point Sam was laid back across the bed with an arm thrown over his face. 

________________________

You looked from him to Dean “Is he still conscious?” Sam lowered his arm and smirked, honest to God smirked which was something Sam didn't do. “Mostly” you laughed again “Well how about you scoot on up in the bed so we can all get some sleep?”

He scooted up, his long legs curling as he moved. Once he was settled you moved to pull the blanket up over him then looked at Dean “So, are we sharing?” Dean shook his head “I'll take the floor” Sam looked up at you “You can share with me Y/N. I promise I'm not gonna touch you” a giggle escaped him before he said “Well if you asked me to I would. I'd fucking love to touch you”

You could feel your cheeks warm as Dean cracked up laughing. You swung on Dean but he ducked so you swallowed your embarrassment before saying “Ok Sam just scoot over” he moved over again and you hesitated before crawling into bed next to him. He tried to pull the blanket up over you but missed his mark. You bit your lip to not laugh when he said “Goodnight beautiful” then flopped over dramatically onto his stomach and was snoring within minutes. 

You looked over at Dean's bed and he had his face buried in the pillow but his back was shaking with laughter “Why did you get him drunk?” You whispered and he turned to look over his shoulder at you “I was tired of hearing you both talk about the other. Someone had to make a push”

_______________________________

The next morning you woke up and felt like you were pinned to the bed. When you opened your eyes you saw one of Sam's legs was thrown over your lower half and he was curled up with his face buried into the slip of collarbone that was sticking out of the shirt you'd worn to bed. 

Dean's bed was empty so he'd probably gone on a breakfast run. You tapped Sam gently “Sam” He woke up slowly then froze when he realized the position he was in “Did I say everything I think I said last night?”

You nodded then offered “We can forget it if you want because you were extremely drunk” he slowly looked up at your face which was a little awkward considering his leg was still over you “Just because I was drunk doesn't mean it wasn't the truth” 

He pulled his leg from over you and pushed himself up the bed, stopping once his back was against the headboard. You sat up too and turned to face him in the bed. One of his hands came out to rest on your leg and when you didn't pull away he smiled. “I've felt like this about you for a while and um Dean might have insinuated it wasn't one sided?” 

You nodded slowly “It's not” his eyes flew up to your face so fast you saw the moment his brain registered fast movement was a bad idea. “So do you think this could work?” You shrugged “We could try” Sam leaned closer to you and your heart leapt into your throat. How many times had you thought about kissing him? 

Right before your lips touched the motel room door swung open and there stood Dean with a broad grin “What did I interrupt?” Sam turned to look at his brother and if looks could have killed Sam would've been an only child. “You're an ass Dean” Dean shrugged shutting the door behind himself and sitting the food and drinks down on the table “I no longer have to hear you two drool over each other so call me what you want”

You shook your head then placed a quick kiss on Sam's cheek “I'm gonna go shower. We'll talk more later”

__________________________

You had just shut the door when you heard Sam say a very low “Thank you” to Dean

You laughed at the memory as you felt the bed dip behind you and Sam's arm slipped around your waist “What are you laughing at baby?” He whispered into your ear and you squirmed from the feeling of his breath on your neck “How Dean pushed us together”

He chuckled then kissed the skin of your neck “Yeah I still need to find a good thank you for him” You turned in his arms to face him and smiled “Or you could kiss me?” He grinned “I like that idea even more”

_____________________________

There were times you still heard that little voice at the back of your head. The voice that told you how gorgeous Jess was, how Sam was going to propose to her, how your relationship would never measure up to theirs. 

You tried to ignore that voice because you knew Sam cared about you, the way he touched you, kissed you and made you feel was unlike any other man you'd ever been with.

He was happy with you, wasn't he?

@lacilou @fullbelieverheart

[mysteryanimator]

SENSES - Animatic breakdown :D

Breaking down my panels because I am silly and I know some people wanted me to break down my thoughts for this. THOUGH, I still leave a lot up for interpretation!

You can watch it here :D

(Also I ended up adding subtitles to this, so you can see what panels get timed to each lyric)

(I won't go through every single panel since 30 image limit BUT please know that 99.9% of the panels have been beamed with a lot of symbolism. I'm very passionate about this subject, esp with drama scenes LOL)

Also here proving to myself I don't use ten billion close up shots HAHAHAH, ty for three days ago me for thumbnailing everything

SECTION 1- MIZRAK'S POV

yes, the first verse and first chorus is from Mizrak's perspective/second verse is from Olrox's perspective.

OK, not only is the establishing shot, but it kinda establishes the major symbolism stuff I play into- hands and windows! Connection and dividers! Please keep in mind eyes are the window to the soul :D

It very much informs the entire animatic LOL.

From here on out (till a certain point :3) the window acts as a divider. This shot will be important for later btw :))) Also I have a feeling Olrox would say something like "Destiny always seemed make believe."

Fun fact, I ended up dropping a wip section 01 to a few people and they were all eviscerated by the part of Mizrak reaching for Olrox. This acted like a screen test for me and later informed me to focus on Mizrak's hand for a few more shots.

WHICH, BY WAY THE CHORUS BREAKUP SECTION FROM MIZRAK'S POV:

I won't delve too much into here, BUT mentally i decided that when interpreting the chorus, it was as if they were speaking to each other. It also happens again for the bridge part :DDD

SECTION 2- OLROX'S POV

What was important to me was getting Olrox's POV on Mizrak, since in Nocturne we explored Mizrak getting insight into Olrox's past I went "omg, let's do the reverse!" and get Olrox to gather insight on Mizrak's past.

I've perceived Mizrak to be a lot more snappier with his co-workers and friends (take for insistence him yelling at the other monks, and being a lot more direct without fanfare with Richter and Maria in the first ep)

PARALLELS !!! Which, the abbey is intentionally overlayed over Olrox, hahaha Mizrak needs to choose between duty and desire :))))) Also this is the sole reason why the placements are skewed heavily to one side, so they can literal mirrored version of each other and be put side by side.

I actually debated myself a lot for this part, because the plan was going to go in a very different direction, however I thought having them not facing the camera, much like how they both can't seem to face themselves (or each other directly for this matter). Which I noticed was a huge thing with the character acting between those two characters.

ANOTHER CALL BACK LOL. Also I personally interpret Mizrak saying "we make our own destiny".

Mizrak reaching out !!! Also, while there is no window, the wood panels are there to substitute for the division theme. Olrox is standing on that divide and Mizrak has to decide if he wants to "break" through that divider.

SECTION 3 - omg they do it

OK, the scenes where they do the deed!!! By this point I feel like you guys are already getting very used to all the call-back scenes, so instead of doing a mirrored version of the first chorus scene, I decided to make all of the lyrics a contradiction to what was happening on screen. This helps for the hard cut to their argument hit sooo much harder (well i would hope sooooo LOL)

also if this shot feels familar, It's from an animation wip I'm working on that's been shelved for now because of uni HAHAH

A fight? No no, you're getting them fuc-

HAND, this will be the only time they will touch hands. The only time they connect. Also I like the contradiction with the "leave me alone with all of my questions", while they literally hold hands as they do it LOL.

SECTION 4- The argument

OK SO, me explaining these frame isn't super important, its more so a fun fact BUT going back to them using parts of the song as their "dialogue", I thought it would be fun to have them jab at each other. SO when Olrox is paired with:

"Know you fell for the person that tried to be someone they're not." Olrox is taking a jab at Mizrak for not being himself.

"You long for a feeling you'll never get back and I'm scared that you'll finally give up." Mizrak is taking a jab at Olrox for being a 'coward'.

HA, so remember eyes are window to the soul? Well so I decided that for this argument section, I wanted to give off that the argument here was literally going to dig DEEP, so I just ended up reusing the exact same lighting/posing for them. Which is the reason why they're both dead center (and it helps make this section slightly disorientating).

Which by the way, I noticed in Nocturne, these characters don't face each other directly when being vulnerable- they're always like behind or off to their side. The only times where they've been face to face properly are these:

"You're an animal whose soul died centuries ago." "Oh, has the world abandoned you Mizrak?"

They're jabbing into each other's inner psyche, so I wanted to do that here :D

Yes, that is right. Briefly you see Olrox's lover and Olrox's amercia fit. I thought it would be SO angsty for the earring piece to come from Olrox's previous lover. Also the past versions only start appearing during the "but the one you'll never love." :))))))

Btw I'm not 100% solid on Olrox's prev lover design, but I'd love to develop him more someday (if he doesn't get further developed season 2)

SECTION 5- Aftermath

From here on out, I make the references so much more obvious! For Olrox waking up I ended up going backward of the introduction! Which as a final note, the abbey and Olrox are on opposite sides of the divide :)))

Also, around this time I had realised "oh I have 30 seconds left and I want this done now or else it'll fester and rot in my brain, making me unable to do anything else until I finish it." So instead of completely making new assets from scratch, a much more straightforward parallel was in order (and it makes it super angsty too, which double points)

The ending I wanted to leave very open ended! However, I will make it known that he crosses over that divider when he balls his hands into fists, unlike how he was unable to when I first showed this exact shot.

Also these are the three shots I reference back to for this final scene. Mizrak ends up crossing over that divide, much like he did when the animatic started. WHICH AGAIN, you are super free to infer and make up your own thoughts as to why these scenes were crucial for referencing.

By the way, every time we have seen Mizrak from the chest down, it starts from the back, then the side, and now the front :))))

As a side note, every time I cut off a character's head (specifically eyes too) in a shot, it is very purposeful to force the audience to infer what these characters are feeling and base it off their body language alone. It is also in a way, an attempt to conceal as much as I can about what the character is feeling, playing into the theme that eyes are the window to the soul, and we, as the audience, are not allowed into their private thoughts.

anddd done :D hope y'all enjoy this info-dumping soup. I'd love to try my hand at some action boards and see how my analytical brain puts drama beats there, since at this point applying emotional connections to compositions and camera angles is second nature. So that for action hrmmmmmm we'll see AFTER UNI THO (ANNETTE IT'S YOUR TURN)

I have one assignment left for this semester, wish my uni wouldn't adamantly put down 2d focused students (or wish they'd even teach us, though honestly teaching myself is very fun and rewarding) BUT I digress!

I had a lot of fun doing this! Ty for reading this far LOLOLOL

[paris-geller-was-straightwashed]

M*A*S*H 4077 & DND

guess who started their m*a*s*h rewatch around the same time they've gotten into d&d and now cannot stop thinking about the utter chaos and hyjinks of The Gang trying to play a campaign. it starts with none of them really super into fantasy roleplay, but they're all So Fucking Bored they might as well play to have something to do.

it started off imaging just what role they'd each play, but now I couldn't stop myself from imaging each person's race, class, AND, just for fun, the dice they'd use!

hawkeye: isn't that bothered about races, probably either an elf or just a human. class is paladin, relating the paladin's 'call for good' something like the oath doctors take to always help and heal patients, no matter what (and, let's be honest, probably feeds into his egotistical nature at being a naturally skilled surgeon, as if he was 'called'). cannot be Asked to care about ability scores (only to deeply regret it when he's nearly off'd the first battle) except for pouring most of his points into charisma. mostly likely of the party to Fuck his way out of a confrontation (no matter the other's gender #bihawkrights). spends most of the campaign messing around and forgetting what his spells are, but when the party hits a serious battle, is the first to throw himself in and use any spells to help his friends before himself. originally wasn't that interested in the game, but overtime becomes one of the ones who gets really into it, screaming across the board at ppl's bad roles and cheering & trying to pick ppl up in glee when they win. dice of choice:

(just the most wack-ass coloured dice I could find, metaphor for the inside of his brain (also this way he can tell if anyone tries to conceal any as theirs)).

radar: while interested in the fantasy stuff (being a comic reader), was a little intimidated with all the math & rules involved until hawkeye and bj convince him. part of me thinks he could be a halfling or dwarf, but then I think he might enjoy being a humanoid creature like a minotaur (farm boy) or a satyr bc of his love of animals. class is bard, where he carries/plays the drum. enjoys and gets really into the story, but is always flummoxed when it comes to the battles, asking what everyone else thinks his character should do (only for everyone to yell back several different answers). always needs a couple of seconds of mental math to add his modifier to dice rolls (me too radar) but when the party comes across a riddle or puzzle, is usually the first to figure it out. keeps trying to pick up small creatures to put them in his sack. is not allowed to talk while people make their roles bc of too many times where he's predicted the number before they can read the dice (the moment of hawkeye's saving role during a Big Bad battle was kind of ruined when radar elatedly jumped up at the nat20 before the dice even left hawk's hand). dice of choice:

(cute little puppers!)

margaret: at first is staunchly against it, calling it childs' play, but eventually is worn down by hawk & bj and is also so bored, she gives in. thought she might be an elf, but in the end chooses genasi, picking fire power. chooses the fighter class, leaving hawkeye to make a remark that gets a dice thrown at his head. doesn't really get super into the meta of the game or the story (often tells the dm to get on with it and cut to the action) but does love to play, where it overtime becomes a good outlet for anger ('the demon tries to approach you, margaret what do you-' 'I SLICE OFF HIS KNEECAPS WITH MY BATTLEAXE!'). is a good player until the roles don't go her way ('you only rolled a 10, so your attack doesn't hit-' 'SCREW YOU! KLINGER GIVE ME YOUR 18 ROLE!'). is pretending like she isn't having fun but everyone can see through her. dice of choice:

(these seemed the most like margaret, elegant but not too girly).

henry: is also peer-pressured into joining. picks barbarian class so he doesn't have to think about spells. tries to pick human bc all the other races were 'too complicated' but got told due to his class, he has to pick a more built character like an orc, so an orc he ends up being. but he's bad at it, often either trying to escape a battle or by being a peacemaker, trying to persuade the monster out of battle but with such a low charisma score, it usually ends up with him getting clonked over the head and margaret jumping in before he's killed. keeps trying to give his gold to poor peasants they meet along the way. doesn't understand any of the mechanics. rolls so many nat1's that nobody will switch dice with him anymore, thinking his are cursed. the game is often more stressful for him then not, but he enjoys the time with his friends. dice of choice:

(I dunno, for some reason when I think of henry I think of a dark orange/amber).

potter: prolongs joining, thinking he's too old for it, but is also peer-pressured and eventually caves, thinking it'll be good for morale. chooses dwarf and for his class to be an old wizard. doesn't understand half the rules, spends most of the time muttering under his breath as he goes over the manual, radar (un)helpfully leaning in beside him to explain. but once he gets the hang of it is a good team member; is the only other person besides margaret to take the hints and puzzles seriously and without him (+her) the party would probably be making circles lost in some boundless woods somewhere. cheers his teammates on when they make a high roll or powerful move and only occasionally has outbursts ('well colonial sir, you need a 16 or higher to cast-' 'MULE FRITTERS! I said cast magic missile and that's an order!!!"). dice of choice:

(same thing - when I think of potter, I think a dark blue).

charles: the last of the group to get into it. completely refused and repeated that 'he was far too smart for that kids' stuff' and everyone was wasting their time. but when someone had to dip out of the campaign last minute to deal with a medical thing, charles was brought in as filler with the promise of a day's R&R. at first I thought high elf, but switched to dragonborne, of the noble variety of course. chooses sorcerer (blessed with some innate magic, as his ego prefers). constantly complains about the needless complexity of the rules and why bother having ability scores when it's the modifier that counts???? is always arguing with the dm on his rolls. uses up half of his turns to use mage hand to steal hawkeye's things or cast ray of sickness on him when he's being annoying - but, when it comes down to it, is one of the more strategic players and has gotten them out of many sticky situations. like margaret, is pretending he isn't having fun, but isn't immune to jumping up with the others over a saving nat20 role, at one time even excitedly picking up a confused radar. in the end, swallows his pride to shyly ask if he can join the party finally ('you know, it'll, uh..it will give me something to do during those boring intervals, and clearly this group needs all the brains it can get..' '..charles, you wanna come play with us?' 'well, if I must..'). dice of choice:

(the snootiest of dice, a pure gold colour).

mulcahy: also initially intimidated by the mechanics, but is happy to play a game with his friends. a possible half-elf or maybe a wise owlin. cleric, obviously. gets invested in the storyline, often applauding the dm's story or asking 'what happens next???" only to be told to wait till the next meet. one of the few who has actual healing spells and probably the only reason everyone didn't die in their first battle. a nerd who enjoys solving the puzzles. actually gets into the lore and one time had a deep, 2 hr conversation with radar & hawkeye about the disenfranchisement of some of the races and the hierarchy of the class/rule structure within the fantasy realm, and how it relates to theirs. the next day, radar came to his tent to show him a little sketch he did of his character in cleric robes, shrugging it off, but mulcahy loved it so much he pinned it up on his tent walls. dice of choice:

(inspired by one of my favourite mulcahy lines, when he's talking about missing holding services in real churches - 'I am rather fond of stained glass', which I always think of whenever I see stained windows. tried to pick the ones that emulated the colours best (also would've liked maybe a light, forest green colour; it just feels mulcahy-esque to me).

klinger: one of the first to join bc what else what he gunna do but sit in his tent, sewing up pantyhose? rogue class, of course, relating to the 'urchin' background. changeling race, so that way with his class he can hide at any moment, and also, as he says, 'can perfectly match his outfit no matter what he looks like!' tries to follow the storyline but doesn't have the attention span for it, half the time guessing the wrong answer to any clue or puzzle (will come and poke the dm awake in the middle of the night with his patrol gun, claiming to have figured it out). second after hawkeye to try and Fuck his way out of a situation. cannot do math to save his life, making margaret often rip his dice away from him to add it herself. will gang up with hawkeye to use his pickpocket skill on charles. resourceful enough to have tricked the villains multiple times and gotten away with it but will also roll to try and kick the villain in the nuts to see what happens. dice of choice:

(these just screamed klinger to me; I like the dark, 'masculine' colour contrasted with with the colourful flowers).

bj: thought I missed him? well, I saved the best for last bc bj...is the dm! ha ha! no one really in particular stood out, but after thinking on it, he seems like the best fit. first, I was thinking of the episode 'the kids' where he gets really into the story he's telling, full of voices and sound affects and all. and secondly, our kindly mustacheo'd doctor loves Mind Games and pranks - what better way then stringing his friends along into one big, zigzag puzzle? bj loves nothing more then having his friends on the edge of their seats, only to pull out a bad guy the group thought they got rid of months ago, glee in his eyes watching them combust into screaming and table flipping. getting a thrill during off hours, hearing hawkeye & charles hastily whisper across bunks to each other on the campaign thinking he can't hear them, or getting shaken awake by margaret in the middle of the night, demanding answers. he spends hours planning out the campaigns in the tent (and finding new places to hide his papers from hawkeye), sometimes writing peg about it and occasionally - if the timing of the mail is right - using her suggestions she writes back. but mostly, bj just loves watching his friends have a good time - cheering each other on and hollering with each battle won, feeling proud of them for everything accomplished (when he doesn't have to babysit hawkeye & charles from casting spells on each other, trying to answer radar's 49th question on how rolls work, or keep margaret from solo fighting the demon fifteen levels above her). dice of choice:

(idk, these just feel 'bj hunnicutt' to me).

other camp members: - frank: was only let in Once after margaret begged hawk & bj, saying it was only fair. initially picked human bc 'they're clearly the purest and most civilized race!!' (causing eyerolls), quit thirty minutes in after being told he couldn't be a fighter 'cause they already had margaret and that he couldn't just 'set all his abilities to 20', calling them all nerds and angrily throwing a d20, only for it to bounce back on the tent beam and hit him in the eye. - some of the nurses have occasionally filled in, but otherwise don't play outside of margaret (most of their time was filled up with hawkeye using his character to flirt with theirs). one time nurse kellye filled in; she played a cute little halfling druid, and her and radar teamed up to help rescue all the forest animals, much to the groups chagrin. - zale & igor: permanently banned. both tried to eat the dice on a dare.

campaigns are held twice a month in the swamp, with drinks and stale pretzels to go around. use to sometimes go all night but after one too many nights of clambering arguments over each other's rolls, the whole camp banded together to force a curfew. while the game only exists within the swamp's quarters, they'll once and a while jokingly call each other by their character's names (and if you're margaret, one time accidentally using it to call hawkeye to surgery, which he now never lets her live down). during the last campaign of the story, radar pulls out another drawing he did - this time of everyone's characters, standing valiantly over the dragon they slayed. it now has a place of honour hung in the swamp.

[nol0nger-human]

MAG155: The Cost of Living: Basira Hussian Perspective. Word Count: 1892

This episode was a massive turning point for Basira and I don't think many people are really able to acknowledge this due to the subtlety of it, but just like how Jon finally cracked in 154 with his confrontation with Martin, this is really Basiras cracking point as well. As I've talked about in extremity, and as we all know, Basira is deeply, deeply reliant on Daisy. After all the shit that's gone down in her life Daisy has been the one constant, the one thing that's always there for her to rely on. Not only did they go through extremely traumatizing events together when working as partners in Section 31, but with everything happening in the institute, they're practically bound together. Even the very first interaction we have with Daisy, there's an expression of her concern and care for her 

[DAISY - [anxious, drawn] Don’t tell Basira. She doesn’t know about that procedure. I, I’m not sure how much she’d understand, she – she’s not – cut out for that kind of work.].

 Time and time again we begin to realize just how deeply bound they are as people. As the series goes on, we see them go from work partners, to trauma-bound, to full on codependent to a point where neither of them see life worth living without the other one in it. To the point where Basira practically sacrificed her life for Daisy, joining the institute and signing the rest of her life away on a contract that would save Daisy's life. They're incredibly bonded, to the point where we really barely see them interact. This is because they're so close that they don't *need* to talk to each other a lot for their bond to hold strong. They're so incredibly close that interaction simply isn't needed, because their care for eachother prevails despite how much they're around each other or not. This expression comes to a climax in mag146 during everyone's intervention with Jon. Basira explodes at Jon, furious with him for hurting innocent people to save his own life. However, when it's brought up that Daisy has murdered people again and again for this same reason, using her status as police to get away with it, Basira ADAMENTLY defends her viciously, insisting that what Daisy did was different, despite it being much, much more severe than what Jon had done. This is because Basira idealizes Daisy more than she likes to admit and for several reasons. Basira is someone who thrives off stability, so with her entire life crumbling around her, Daisy is the stone pillar she can lean on, rely on, count on as someone who's always going to be the good in her life. So when this image of Daisy is threatened, Basira becomes enraged. I've talked about this before but this mentality is illustrated well by Leson Festinger's theory of cognitive dissonance. When a person's conviction does not align with physical evidence of reality, and so that person rewrites reality in order for that awkward gap to be closed. Basira needs Daisy to be a good person due to her devotion to Justice, and so even when it's proved to her that what Daisys done is extremely immoral, she makes excuses for her to eradicate the dissonance created between her belief and reality. This is especially because of Basiras massive dedication to justice, and her black and white good and evil way of thinking. And so, the events of 146 go down. (if you want more on this scene [https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aWHkkKeG9iDYXaesQ927NAvnHeczZnToT8y_NKBeLSU/edit?usp=sharing]) 

NOW let's take this in the context of mag155. The previous night after Jon was attacked by Julia and Trevor, he called Daisy for help, and this situation ended up exhausting her. We see just how incredibly weak Daisy has become, as we realize she can hardly take much physical work, is scarily thin, and is exhausted incredibly easily, getting her sick from the temptation of the hunt. This puts her out of commission for a little, and we are really truly hit with the reality of what her resisting the hunt has done to her. Painful, and intense withdrawal with no escape. Then, in 155, when Jon asks Basira about Daisy, we get the following interaction. Let's go through it, starting with the words exchanged. 

[BASIRA - I’m trying to convince her to go after them. To, uh… Hunt them. ARCHIVIST - Why? BASIRA - Because I’m not going to lose her. ARCHIVIST - She goes hunting again, you might anyway. BASIRA - And if she doesn’t, she might die. ARCHIVIST - Something you’re fine with in certain other cases, and something she’s made peace with. BASIRA - Because of the guilt she feels over the stuff the Hunt made her do. It’s not her fault.] 

Now. my fucking god lets go over this. This is really the scene where everything that happened in 146 and everything that's been happening, Basira really admits to. And what's truly revealed is just how dependent she is on Daisy. Seeing Daisy so weak, Basira is more dreadful than she could ever imagine, because aside from just seeing Daisy as a pillar, she also loves her. She cares about her. Hell she's everything to her even if that fact is extremely repressed. To the point where when she sees Daisy in such a state she is trying to convince her to kill people again. Basira the woman who quit the police force due to the corruption in it, Basira who judges people in black and white based on how just they are, Basira who exploded on Jon when he temporarily hurt four innocent people for his own survival, pleads with Daisy to go back to her own ways. Desperately tries to convince her to give into the hunt just once in order to feel better. Basira cares about Daisy so much that she's willing to set aside every moral she's ever had every thought of justice simply so that she doesn't have to lose Daisy, because she doesn't know what she would ever do without her. [BASIRA - Because I’m not going to lose her. ] 

Because she doesn't want to lose her. Because she cant lose her. And so she betrays everything she bases her own self on just to try and protect her, finally admitting how much she relies on her even if it's just through a few vague words. Even after this, when Jon snaps at her for her own hypocrisy, calling Basira out for excusing Daisy but not him for hurting people far less for the same reason. 

[ARCHIVIST - Something you’re fine with in certain other cases, and something she’s made peace with.] 

Her own hypocrisy staring her right in the face, she still denies, and still does everything in her power to eradicate that dissonance. She makes vague excuses for her, "it's not her fault", "she didn't know what she was doing", "it's different i swear it's different". Then Jon lays down the lines that really just end up cracking her.

 [ARCHIVIST - Earlier, when she was still out of it, I… I saw some of the things she was talking about, some of the things she did while she was police. Do you want me to tell you? BASIRA - No. No I don’t. ARCHIVIST - you knew, didn’t you? You knew the sort of things she did, and you let her. BASIRA - No. Not exactly. I thought… It’s not that simple.] 

Jon hits her right in the chest with the "I know what she's done. Do you want me to tell you in all the detail I know will crack your vision of her? But that's when we realize. He doesn't need to. It's not that Basira was slightly in the dark about the full extent of what Daisy did and so she filled in the gaps of her knowledge with excuses. It's not as if she only tried to justify what Daisy did due to not having the full picture. Basira knew every fucking thing. Every last detail and yet still excused her actions. She knew every disgusting truth and still clung onto her love for Daisy, and justified it. "Did Festinger ever consider how our justifications are to save not only ourselves, but others too? Did he ever consider how lies and love are intertwined?”  Basira isn't just lying for herself, she's lying to protect Daisy. Her lies about reality mix and tangle and knot with her love for Daisy, twisting and warping the two things into one ugly truth mixed with devotion and heartache. Without realizing it, without saying it directly, without even wanting to, Basira reveals everything about her mindset in this scene because it's when she finally becomes desperate. Just like how Jons desperation (rant coming soon :) ) in mag154 is what finally characterized his motives, Basira has been driven to a point of desperation that reveals her motives in full daylight without her even realizing it. Because at the core of it all: is Daisy. The person she truly lives for and the one that she is willing to do whatever it takes to protect because she's dependent on her to a point of no return, a deep, painfully repressed love driving her every action. Even in the last few words exchanged between the two here, we see how Basira bases her every action based off Daisy.

 [ ARCHIVIST - Have you thought any more about what I said? BASIRA - Yeah, I don’t think I can. Daisy wouldn’t come if I didn’t, and I’m not leaving her behind. Besides, both of us being blind would be… anyway, being stuck here isn’t exactly her main problem right now. ]

 "What i said" was referring to what Jon figured out to be the one way of leaving the institute. (Gouging one's own eyes out). And through hearing that, through Basira realizing the position that's ruined her life, through the job that she was manipulated into joining with Daisy's life on the line, Basira still refuses. Because of Daisy. Her one and only chance of escape is denied because she wants to be able to take care of Daisy. And because she doesn't know if Daisy would follow her. And where Daisy goes, she goes. Which is not going to be a reference to a heartbreaking line later in the series because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon.

because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jon because Daisy and Basira are not parallels to Martin and Jo-

[featherlumina]

hmmm 1 and 22?

Heck yea thank you so much for the ask @banorawhite! :D

1. The character everyone gets wrong.

You know 'im, you love 'im, it's the one and only Genesis Rhapsodos, babey~! Honestly, I've seen people treat him like he's some special kind of terrible for an antagonist whilst not holding the same measure to other characters who have behaved just as bad. Do I condone any of the terrible actions he took? Of course not! Do I also find him infinitely fascinating and nuanced and not just a one-dimensional poetry-quoting asshole? Yes! I get Mr. Rhapsodos drove quite a people mad with his LOVELESS-quoting tendencies, and I will say that Crisis Core suffered for being limited to the PSP and from some poor writing choices. But I'll also say that if Square had properly contrasted his pre-and-post degradation mental state and built a sturdy foundation of his friendship with Angeal and Sephiroth, the impact of his desertion and the betrayal he felt would've hit much harder. that's what fanart and fanfic are for and Genesis is so much richer for it

22. Your favourite part of canon that everyone else ignores.

I bet there's a bunch, but my brain is malfunctioning and all I can think of right now is not quite something that's ignored per-se but I haven't seen much on yet. Gillian Hewley's house in Banora is covered in lovely nature photos that I am certain were taken by Angeal and gifted to her by him to brighten things up.

Also, another obscure thing that I noticed that when Zack goes to Banora in Crisis Core, there are wreaths on all the doors of the houses. The timeline notes that this happens in December, which would imply these are festive decorations. And that just kind of breaks my heart for whatever reason cause it means the village was taken over not long after people put out decorations. Ouch.

Also I need to mention my headcanon that Mideel appears to be in the southern hemisphere, which means Banora has a summer Christmas. And cause I'm Australian, for years I've had the mental image of Genesis, Sephiroth and Angeal (and screw timelines, Zack and Cloud too) having a typical Aussie barbeque/Christmas celebration in Banora. Think Angeal on the barbie, cooking up a storm and chugging a beer, Zack and Cloud playing backyard cricket, Genesis and Sephiroth sitting in those dingy white lawn chairs in shorts and silly Christmas shirts with sunnies on, Gillian putting together a pavlova, etc.

[sarahowritesostucky]

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: ptsd, trauma recovery, kink negotiations, fetishes, fantasies, body modification, objectification, degradation, self-harm, destructive sexual urges, heavy bdsm, bondage, 24/7 D/s, dom Steve, sub Bucky, sadism, masochism, castration fantasy, dark comedy, oddly sweet relationship dynamics (idiots in love)

Summary: Steve and Bucky reach a compromise, but Bucky's got "some work to do" to prove to Steve that he deserves his treat.

🖤Disclaimer: Nobody gets castrated or otherwise body-modified in this fic, okay? It's Steve and Bucky, kink negotiating and sceneing w/ regards to Bucky's very strange fantasies.

Wait! I haven't read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 yet!

Part 4 - Back to that Morning, Months and Months Later, When Steve Finds Out What Bucky Wants to do to His Dick:

Bucky sits on the floor and chews his lip with big eyes, staring down at Steve’s phone. The options he’s currently salivating over are all piercings. Specifically, genital piercings—something he’s gone googly eyed over for a long time, now. Steve’s finally worked up the nerve to consider it, and he’s giving Bucky options because:

1. He really does adore him and just wants to make him happy in every possible way. 2. He needs to positively reinforce Bucky’s streak of expressing his wants and asking permission for things. 3. He knows that Bucky getting in a car crash and losing his dick isn’t a realistic fear. 4. He’ll be forever–ever–ever grateful that Bucky did not sneak off and get his nuts removed, way back when.

Bucky grips Steve’s phone and swipes back and forth between all the pictures, looking like Christmas is about to come early.

“Jesus,” he mutters, and Bucky’s eyes flick up to him, amused, before returning to the phone. Steve fights not to fidget. “So … Which one do you like?” he asks, anxious about it. In the seventy or so years since he went into the ice, humanity has devoted—in Steve’s opinion—far too many of its collective brain cells to inventing a myriad of ways in which to stick needles in dicks. Human beings are remarkably creative, remarkably fucked up creatures. Steve’s in love with exhibit A.

He sits there and watches Bucky’s reactions, wary of the fact that he’s probably going to choose the most extreme option. Suddenly, Steve wishes he hadn’t given him all the choices. “Um,” he clears his throat nervously. “I like the fourth one. In terms of, ah, aesthetics.” Bucky looks up at him, and Steve nods. “Yeah. That one’s … that one’s my favorite” (‘favorite’ is a loose term here — it doesn’t involve sticking a needle through the head of one’s dick, so: ‘favorite’).

Bucky surprises him by agreeing right away, but then he gets a devious look on his face and amends, “Oh, but maybe I could do a couple of ‘em.”

“What.”

“Yeah! Like number one and number four,” that’d be fun. Bucky grins and snickers about it. “Shit. I’ve never been so glad my ma kicked the mohel out.”

Steve cringes as he’s hit with an odd combination of mental images—freshly circumcised babies and Bucky’s grown-ass dick, pierced to smithereens. “We can talk about it,” he says, voice coming out a little weak.

You look like you’re gonna throw up,” Bucky observes dryly.

“Yeah well. What can I say? I don’t feel the urge to go poking holes in myself.” Steve shakes his head as Bucky just continues to smile placidly. What has he gotten himself into? he wonders, amused. Oh well, at least he’s gotten Bucky off the idea of stuffing freaking pearls into his dick. He holds his hand out for Bucky to give him the phone back, then slides it into his pocket with a sigh when he does. “Get up,” he orders, loving and long-suffering. “Go pick out a pighole and lie face down on the bed. You’ve got a lot of work to do if you want me to take you out this weekend for any one of those god awful—”

“This weekend!?!” Bucky all but shrieks. He jumps to his feet and shouts, “Steve! I love you!” then scampers away to go get his pighole.

About an hour later:

Steve pulls back with a gasp, too close to the edge to risk staying inside, and wanting to stave it off. He kneels back in the sheets and looks down to where he just had his cock buried. The obscene gape that greets him makes him groan and curse lowly. “Fuuck. Look at that.” He can actually see his previous two loads, pooled deep up in Bucky’s ass, because Bucky’s got the pighole in and it’s holding him open and making him into the easiest, most useful fuck-object Steve could ever want to put his dick in. “Such a good cocksleeve, honey,” he praises, because he knows Bucky loves to hear shit like that (and, okay, maybe Steve doesn’t exactly hate saying it either).

True to form, Bucky groans and squirms, not moving from where Steve’s got him ass up and face down on the bed.

Steve grips himself hard, staring into that filthy abyss. “God.” He taps the length of his dick against the rubber rim of the plug, where it’s all but turning Bucky into a fleshlight for his enjoyment. “Wish you could see this, Baby. Fuck. Mmm.” He squeezes his dick, presses the head hard against the lip of the plug and watches as precum oozes out over black rubber. The sight takes his breath away. “Jesus,” he curses quietly, licking his dry lips. “I don’t think I’m even gonna put it back inside, you know that? M’ just gonna jerk off right here, like this.” He works his hand in a tight ring underneath the head of his cock. “Put it in you that way. Won’t even have to aim much, will I? Mm mn. You’re so fuckin’ open.”

He jerks off a little more while staring at Bucky’s wide open asshole, only pausing when his balls give another dangerous spasm, threatening to end his fun. He gathers saliva in his mouth while he waits it out, aims and lets it drip down to join the white of his cum. “Holy shit,” he whispers, watching it hit the pighole and slide in. “Oof, buddy, you’re killin’ me.”

“M’not even doin’ anything,” Bucky rasps, in something that might’ve been sass, if he wasn’t so far gone already.

Steve scoffs and grips an asscheek while he jerks himself, fingers digging into the fat and muscle, then lets go and watches his fingermarks fade from white, to pink, to nothing. He can’t stop himself from smacking it, then, swatting his entire handprint onto one cheek and watching it jiggle. “Best ass in the western hemisphere,” he murmurs. “Should smack it cherry red.” Not that it would last, but he knows Bucky would appreciate it.

He says as much, making a dumb, happy noise into the bed where he’s bent over in front of him. Steve smiles. He grabs the bulge of Bucky’s balls and his caged cock, drawing the handful back between his thick thighs. “And how’re we doin’?” he asks cheerfully, giving Bucky’s collective junk a shake. With his dick kept soft (or mostly soft, anyways) inside the cage, Steve can’t gauge it as well as he otherwise could. All he has to go on are Bucky’s moans and shivers and how fucked out he’s acting. With the plug in, Steve doesn’t even have the feedback of his asshole clenching and fluttering around him—sex toys don’t squeeze back, after all.

A glance down shows that his balls are pulled up tight, but Bucky’s always super responsive like that. Steve swats them harshly a few times while he gives himself another slow, tight stroke. “Fuck,” he whispers, eyes sliding covetously over the gorgeous slope of Bucky’s back. He wants to run his hands all over that smooth, tanned skin; wants to savour it and drag his lips everywhere he goes. He wants to dig his fingers into those fat hips and fuck in and in and in, until the backs of his eyelids go technicolored and he’s emptied of everything he has to give.

But he’s already done that twice in the past hour, so he’s trying to stave it off.

“Sir,” Bucky croaks, voice muffled from where his head is turned on the mattress, metal fist clenched and pulling the bedsheets into his face. Unlike Steve, he hasn’t come yet. Because he’s “earning” it. He squirms restlessly, back muscles shifting under the skin. “Please, please, c’mon.”

Steve slaps his ass again, though it isn’t harsh by any means. For Bucky it’s practically a love tap. “Please what?” he goads. He spits into his asshole again, just so that Bucky can hear him doing it, and in counterpoint he speaks gently, “‘Please’ what, baby? Hm?” He waits, but Bucky doesn’t seem capable of much more than little sniveling, fucked-out sounds; ‘Sir’s, and the occasional grunt or gasp when Steve hits him. Steve smiles at the dark mop of his hair that’s covering his face, in love. “‘Please’ … what?” He sticks one finger into his hole, not touching. There’s actually enough room that he can hold it there, inside, and still not have it be touching anything. And that in itself is obscene, like he’s touching a wound, like he’s reaching into someplace that isn’t meant to ever be exposed. He can feel the heat of Bucky’s body all around. “Come on,” he coaxes, mock–sweetly. “You can tell me.”

“Nnnh.”

“What’s this nasty hole need?” he purrs. “Mm?

Bucky seems to realize that Steve’s actually waiting for an answer, and responds with a slurred string of begging: “Please … Ss-sir. You, you. I need you. I do, oh, please, I … I need—”

“I?” Steve mocks, letting go of his cock to grab both asscheeks and pull them apart. He lets another fat wad of spit drip from his mouth down to its target. “What’s ‘I’? I’m not fucking an ‘I’.”

“Oh. I … ” Bucky’s breath stutters out of him in a broken moan. “Oh, Ss-teve,”

“Aw, Sweetheart, you’re confused,” Steve coos, chuckling, voice like velvet over top of razor wire. He leans over Bucky fully—hips to ass, chest to back, forearms braced to either side of those broad and mismatched shoulders—so that he can be intimately close when he purrs, “You think I’m fucking ‘you’, Baby?”

“Mmn, ooh … nno,” he moans.

>Steve kisses the shell of his ear, then whispers, “Tell me what I’m fuckin’.”

Bucky is hazy by this point—strung out on whatever it is that fills up those nooks and crannies in his mind, those fucked-up spaces that can only be intoxicated when he’s in pain or when Steve treats him like this—so it takes him a minute. Steve can’t see his face, but he can hear him licking his lips and swallowing a couple of times, can hear him struggling as he wades through the thick soup of his own thoughts before he manages to rasp, “This hole.” He sounds high, like he’s in love, like he’s about to wither and die, or come.

Steve hums in approval and kisses the spot just in front of his ear, where he can feel the emerging dampness of sweat. Even though he’s doing most of the work, it has been a while of this: teasing and taunting, slipping in and holding still, fucking Bucky just enough to make him really start to want it, then pulling out. Steve’s balls feel like they’ve been beat up in a back alley, and he just wants to come again. He pushes back to kneeling and reaches for the lube. “Exactly right,” he praises, flicking the cap open. He proceeds to squirt a disgusting amount directly into Bucky’s ass, squeezing the bottle hard on purpose to make sure it squelches loudly. “So,” he coos, mockingly sweet and patient, “What do you think this hole needs?” He guides his cock back home, pushing in slow, the seal of the pighole creating luxurious suction and filthy noises as he buries himself in Bucky again. “Oh baby,” he groans. “Fuck. You hear that? You hear the sounds it’s making?”

“fuck”—Another one of those tiny, tight little ‘fucks’ that Steve relishes so much. Bucky’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, face down and ass up on the bed, dark hair all over the pillow, floating in snot and subspace, whining and crying every time Steve isn’t actively inside his body (and even sometimes when he is). “S’it good?” he slurs, the words mashed into the bedding. Other than Steve’s name and nonsensical gobbledygook, it’s the only real unprompted thing he’s been capable of saying for the past ten minutes at least; asking Steve if he’s good, begging and pleading to be good. “Please, Steve … I’m good, m’good, ff-feels so good—”

“Shhhh.” Steve fucks in all the way and grinds his hips against the meat of Bucky’s ass. “Yes, Honey. It’s so fucking good. S’the fucking best. Best thing I’ve ever had.” He pets a soothing hand down the center of Bucky’s back as he rolls his hips in deep, hard strokes, fucking him steady again. “You’re so good at this, such a good hole for me. Doin’ exactly what you’re s’posed to do. Lettin’ me feel your insides, takin’ it all.”

Bucky sobs. “I am, I am,”

Steve hushes him. “You are, baby. Doing so well. Just gotta hold still. Just gotta be a hole n’ let me jerk it right in there. A nice, sloppy place ta’ put my cum.”

Steve changes his angle minutely and Bucky sobs and jerks in place, then he starts pushing his hips back frantically. “Oh, ohn shit … oh shit, Steve, yes, pleasepleaseplease, oh—oh! I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum, ohmygod I’m gonna cum! Fuck, fuckfuckfuck!

Steve reaches around and cups his caged genitals, jostling them. “Yeah?” he goads, snapping his hips harder. “This gonna make you cum, honey? Just this? You sure? Just bein’ my good little thing? Getting used like a little cum dump?” Steve can feel his orgasm coalescing, gathering like a stormcloud—deep in his gut, in the base of his dick, the root of his balls. His hips slam harder as the pleasure spikes and goes molten inside him. “Ugghn!”

A high, inelegant noise sounds from Bucky’s throat, and then he’s crying and writhing, sobbing out strings of “I’m good, I’m good, I’m good!” as he falls apart.

Steve can only feel the fluttering of his orgasm deeper in, past the rubber grip of the pighole. He shoves all the way in so he can feel it ripple on half his dick, grinding furiously in–in–in and reaching his peak. He clenches his teeth and roars, hips pumping nonstop as he unloads inside Bucky for the third time in ninety minutes.

Just like always, it feels like it lasts forever and not at all. “Holy … fuck,” he eventually pants, when he’s ridden it out and is left slumped over Bucky’s back. He’s still got one hand between Bucky’s legs, holding his caged cock and balls. Bucky came while soft in the cage; Steve can feel the ejaculate wetting up his hand. He gives him another jostle, eliciting an overstimulated whine from the other man. It makes Steve smile breathlessly, and he releases him. He pats his hip. “Stay down for a minute.” Bucky makes a weak noise of no-contest as Steve pulls back and starts to clean them up.

Steve removes the pighole. He feels his dick make a valiant attempt at a fourth salute, at the sight of Bucky’s asshole winking itself closed. “Jesus. Next time I really am jerking it into you.” Next time, he wants to yank the plug out and shoot his load on Bucky’s wrecked asshole when it’s still trying to close back up like it’s doing right now. He reaches down and swipes his thumb over the stretched-out pucker, whispering “Shit.” Bucky grunts softly and then Steve’s cum is being pushed out, bubbling white and hot out around his thumb. Steve groans. He smacks him on the butt. “Stop that. You’re filthy.”

“Sure am,” Bucky purrs, smiling with his eyes closed and stretching out to lay prone on the bed.

Steve lies up against his side and lazily fingers between his cheeks, at the still-lax hole as it continues to twitch and push out cum. He lets his eyes slip closed. “You realize you just came just from being fucked, right?”

There’s a smile in Bucky's voice when he hums, “Mmhm. Sure did.”

Steve wishes he had the energy to demand anything of Bucky right now. He’d tell him to roll over so that he could inspect the cage. Instead, he just asks. “Did it feel like you got hard?”

“No,” Bucky says dreamily. “No. It kept trying and failing, and then I just stopped thinking about it and focused on you.”

Steve plays with Bucky’s hair. “Did that help you feel less …”

“Yes.” Bucky peeks over at him. “I just came from freaking sex, Steve. I didn’t think I—” his voice breaks with emotion, and he takes a steadying breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do that again in my life.” He sniffles, tearfully happy. “I worked right.”

Steve’s old junker of a heart gets another ding in it. He pulls Bucky in close to be the little spoon, and lies there kissing at the back of his neck for a long, long time. “You always work right, Buck. You’re always perfect. I love you.” He traces the edges of the star that’s carved into the nape of his neck, and eventually he whispers, “We’ll go to the piercing shop tomorrow.”

Masterlist

For those curious about the cock sheathes and pigholes that Steve and Bucky play with in this fic: Oxballs products

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[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 3

Hello my beautiful people, here i am with the third part, LET THE ANGST CONTINUE. I dunno how long this series gon be, so bear with me guys, and i'll promise i'll stop the angst train soon, just not now :d Comments, feedback and reblogs are appreciated, i love your reactions. love y'all

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Warnings:, torture, language, graphic scenes, again: military men, mention of urination (weird i know), canon typical violence i guess, overall distraught

Summary: While your try to hold it together both body and mind in the midst of darkness and pain, Simon and the team try their best to get to you, without walking into a deathtrap.

A soft feather like touch is grazing the inside of your wrist, so light but apparent, eyes snapping open. Is he here? A wave of relief washing over you momentarily before registering your own finger on your own skin, caressing the veins under the thin skin.

You choke on the sob that erupts from you, realizing you tried to comfort yourself unconsciously, your mind in shambles, making you believe Simon got through all the Shadows to you. Damsel in distress you said? You snort at that, the fast switch in your head is comical at this point. You are loosing your mind already? That cannot be the case, no. You are stronger than that.

You keep petting your wrist, now fully aware of the fact that it's just you, not Simon making sure of the pulsing under his fingers. It became something so intimate between the two of you. When you woke up in the hospital, in the midst of nightmares, fire and pain, you could feel the sensitive touch of callused fingers, holding your hand the same way, all the time. Wrapped around your hand, warm, fingers meeting on top of the veins where you can feel the rhythmical thump of blood rushing in them.

So you woke up like that, him on your bedside, not letting your hand go for a second, pulling his chair closer when you found his gaze, devoid from the black camouflage makeup or haunting image of a skull. A handsome man with worry in his deep gaze, telling tales of how much hell he's been trough.

So it became a habit, a couple thing if you will. He does this anytime he seeks comfort, and anytime he feels you need reassurance of his presence. When you first sat up with a hole still in your chest, when he confessed how fucking terrified he was when you hit the ground, when you walked out scarred mentally and physically, when he tried to catch you attention, or when he wanted one more kiss before you turned back to the stove. It's a silent i love you. Neither of you are good with words, but you found other ways to communicate.

You doing it gives a tiny bit of ease in the middle of the dusty cold room.

You look around, slowly to see every corner and darker part, and while you are certain no one else is in the room with you, you are still cautious with your surroundings. Everything is in the exact same place as before your head decided to give in to the bleariness. You remain on the sad wooden chair screwed to the ground in the middle, a reeking bucket of your piss behind you in the farthest corner, old electrical boxes so old you can't see the color of them under all the rust. You inspected everything, the boxes are rooted, they might open but you doubt you'll have enough juice in you to crack open any of it.

Other than the boxes and your makeshift toilet the space is empty, and it was a miracle that you even have the luxury to pee in something. Graves left you with one of his goons for a while, inspecting your every move, so when another Shadow brought it, you peed looking into his eyes. The man was so flustered he left the room minutes later, and you thought about how Soap would laugh at this story after going on a rampage of your humiliation. You couldn't care less. If this is all you have to endure, so be it. You are off the hook easy so far, and you fear Graves is waiting for the big finale. You are the bait, and he's hiding out to lure the targets closer and closer before he can land a solid attack.

The moment Graves left you behind, you had a deep breath, having a moment without the poker face and resistance. Now you are going mad in the quiet. Just how he said. Memorized every bit of the space around you, counted the steps on the other side of the door, focusing on the difference between boots, your brain high from stress. He wants you to crack, and you have to admit with shame, that if someone can do it, it's him. He knows you well, as a person and as a soldier.

You freeze when the door bursts open, Graves and two of his Shadow following behind. Here we go again, you think.

"You know what time is it Darling." Yeah, you know the drill already. He comes and watches as his men does the dirty job. God forbid Philip Graves gets blood on his hands.

So the first punch lands right to your stomach, air knocked out of you with a painful grunt. Shit, no foreplay this time? He's getting impatient. He wants progress, his math didn't work so he's upping his game. He anticipated the task force by now, a siege, an attack. Anything. You can see on his face, frustrated expression with deep purple bags under his eyes.

The blows are calculated. They cause pain, creating vivid colors on your skin, but too far from being fatal. A busted lip, blackeye, cuts and bruises deep enough to bleed, but drying out in a short time. It's not time yet. That might be your play.

He observes every hit on you, instructing the men assaulting you when he needs to. The pain is irrelevant at this point. You can barely feel the abuse after the impact. Which is good and real bad at the same time.

You need time. You have to buy some time for yourself, and for the guys to get to you before it's too late.

You realize you are on autopilot mode. Your brain working in military mode. Endure. Survive. Plan. No matter what. Just the reminder of a ghost touch on your wrist collect the tears in your eyes with the sting of the blade pushing slowly under your nail.

You blocked the pain so far, but your body has limits. In the middle of the constant blows, you didn't noticed the ziptie locking in on you ankles. Now when the sharp metal is threatening to broke off your first nail from your finger you try to move you knee up to meet with the man's jaw. But the impact never comes, and makes you wonder when it all happened. When the numbness left your body and switched places with pure agony and terror. Soon your hands are tied to the damn chair that's been your only support in this hell, and your wrists are painfully tight against the wood.

You hyperventilate, you cannot know but can imagine the pain you are about to experience. Simon told you it was probably the worst he ever felt. And he never says things like that unless he means it.

Then you scream.

*

He was ready. Blood boiling, heart aching, but ready. He was so close to action, and that clouded his judgment. Or blinded is a better description to it. He missed the subtle but clear signs that the others caught sooner. Though they agreed on the plan, it was clear and fast forward, they couldn't go with it. First Price suggested to take a step back, have an eye on everything, before making a move. That's what he did, watched and monitored and he ignored every fucking red flag that was in his face. Then everybody else hinted on the fact that the plan won't work, but he's too stubborn to hear them out.

"What are you suggesting? Leave her there to fucking die?" He's dangerously close to jump on Price for putting a complete halt on the mission. "There should have been proof of life delivered for hours now. Fuckin' 'ell she might be already DEAD!"

His voice is roaring, filling the room, dancing in his teammates ears. While they were prepared for Ghost's wrath, they never could fully understand the lengths this man will take to do what need to be done. Right now Simon is mere inch away from marching right down to the Shadow hideout, and demolish the place to the ground.

"You let me take the lead for a reason, Simon. What do you think why we haven't seen proof of life? So you lose your mind over it, because they anticipated us hours before. They know we had eyes on the area for days." Price is steady against Ghost, but he's a little out of breath, eager to reason with Ghost to prevent him do something life threatening stupid shit.

"You know Lt. the Captain is right. Every corner of that base is orchestrated for us. Every man there moved the same everyday, took the same route at the same time as before. They made it look hard but easy enough for us to try." Johnny is passionate as always, Ghost admires the fire he has in every damn situation. But in this hell of a state, Simon can't see past the red.

"She's the bait for us to go down there, and when the bastards have us, we guaranteed her death with ours."

Price and Soap talks from different sides of his head, desperate to knock some sense into his brain, making him see the ovious. But if they are right, Simon can't get closer to the goal. That means more hours and days of suffering. Suffering that he endures, and guilt doubling down on him when he registers he's afraid of his own suffering first, and not yours.

Simon's heart breaks over and over, the heart he had doubts about ever existing, head pounding against the thick skull of his. And while every fiber in his body tells him to break down the fucking doors and destroy anything and everything in search of you, he have to admit his brothers are correct.

Soap picks up Ghost's break, he can hide his face behind the mask, but he cannot hide his feelings, not when Soap watched his two teammates break into shreds, then slowly picking up what remained and putting the pieces back together. Before Simon can protest, Johnny is nudging him outside of their small long forgotten barn that sheltered them the past few days.

Simon lets Soap to guide him further, where he can breath, and might have that long awaited collapse Soap would have had at the first moment if it was about his significant other. To be honest, he already had his fair share of outrage and terror the moment he got the news about you. His best friend for years now, a friend he found in a place void of this kind of relationship he has with you.

He overcome that fury, but Ghost is a stubborn son of a bitch, and he's not sure he can turn his friend's head to the right way.

"C'mon man. You need to see what i'm seein'. You saw yourself, just think about it." Simon takes deep breaths, the cool fresh air clearing his head, the wind forcing some tears out of his eyes.

"I know." Simon grunts, head hanging defeated. "I know." He clears his throat in effort to swallow back his words. Fight is in his nature, not acceptance.

A few moment goes by like this, Johnny supporting his mate with silence, a comfortable and an awkward silence at once.

Just as Soap would try to speak again, Gaz approaches the men out of breath, stumbling over in his words before he can say it.

"We got a video, a minute ago. She's alive."

Ghost shots up, like he was shot with electricity. He lunges towards the barn, the boys hot on his trail.

*

The small laptop show a horrific scene, right in the middle of a scream. If Ghost wouldn't know better, he would think it's someone else, not her. But the inhuman voice is coming out of your mouth, he knows, because he sees your face fully for a moment before the video continues on to show how your nails are being removed one after one. While your face was shown in a swift blurry move, the picture of raw meat under your nails are as sharp as his precious knife in his holster.

Price reaches for the laptop, but Simon claps his hand before he could close it down, and prevent Simon to see all of it.

"No." He grumbles, Price retreats, not pleased at the slightest. He's done watching, the sound is enough to imagine the content of it.

It goes on and on, the images burning into Simon's memory, and he wants it that way. If you have to go through that, he'll too. This is going to be his fuel for what's about to come, because he will ravage the very existence of Philip Graves. He will erase his memory off of this goddamn earth, with nothing to remain.

Slowly every one of the guys takes a step back from the proof of life they awaited so much, and only Simon stays rooted in front of the screen. Not much is visible of the place, dark hugging the room, black gloves on the torturer, black tactical wear on the others holding her down, no face shown, no other sound just the screams and some grunts of the captivators. Because she still fights, of course she does. She has to.

Just as Simon feels his own limit of watching you in anguish, not fucking feeling anything anymore, your voice changes, turns into words before the torturing hand freezes, and video cuts off.

"Do you...do you remember Istanbul Phil? Hmmm, the good ol' days huh?"

Blood rushes with full force again in his veins, the words awakening his senses. Your voice drowning in the accent at the end Soap laughed so much on, and he did have some low chuckle himself when he first heard them in his ears through the comms.

All pair of eyes locked at him, realization hitting every one of them. You gave them a way in.

*

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[beanieman]

Twelve Days Of Winter Day Five: The YTTD Cast In A Snowball Fight Headcanon's

A: Naomichi starts the fight by hurling a snowball at Shin because he was being obnoxious. Kanna felt the need to defend her brother's honor and threw one back. Things escalate from there.

B: Shin is the one who dips into the house the second snow starts getting thrown. He's not getting decked in the face, again, and his arm will hurt if he has to throw things.

C: Joe and Gin make a snow wall so they can duck and hide. Sara is impressed by this idea and enlists Kanna to build an even bigger one. Before long both groups have dropped out of the snowball fight and instead are having fun building things out of snow.

D: Ranmaru focuses on attacking Keiji over anyone. His throwing arm is so weak Keiji doesn't even know he's being hit.

E: Anzu has a snowball machine gun. That's it, that's the headcanon because I like the mental image.

F: Hinako is quick to make a team with Q-Taro since he's a baseball player. She assumes he can throw well, and makes the snowballs for him to throw. She takes full credit for the multiple people they hit.

G: Mai has a deadly aim. She's hitting people dead on like she's a trained assassin. Even Kai's aim isn't that precise, but it's pretty close!

H: Shunsuke is the person who somehow gets hurt. He ends up getting a black eye with the cause being...snow.

I: Reko ends up not getting hit by any snowballs because Alice dives in the way to protect her from them all.

J: Nao wins the snowball fight. She gets so worked up seeing Mishima and Sara being pelted by snowballs that she ends up rapid fire throwing them at a borderline scary pace while screaming "Repeat! Repeat!"

K: Mishima has so much fun he ends up purchasing some fake snow so they can have another fight again on a later date.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

ASOS; Steel and Snow: 20 CATELYN III (pages 273-284)

Robb puts an ally to the chopping block when said ally kills two team Lannister hostages in revenge for his own dead sons, the Stark/Tully fam try to keep a hold of the situation, and Jeyne asks Cat for advice on helping her husband.

-

Only the fact that some had spears and others empty scabbards served to set them apart. All were clad in mail hauberks or shirts of sewn rings, with heavy boots and thick cloaks, some of wool and some of fur. The north is hard and cold, and has no mercy, Ned had told her when she first came to Winterfell a thousand years ago.

I feel like there's something of a metaphor in there, in that ally and enemy look the same, and which is which doesn't make a difference to their fallen foes, or those left to pick up the pieces.

...Karstark makes an unfortunate point. In absolving his mother in order to absolve himself of his broken oath instead of even a symbolic punishment, Robb has said the treatment of prisoners outside of his orders is not treason no matter what is done to them even against his orders.

Robb has effectively traded his own forgiveness for the "sanctity" of the law. (all of which is made worse by the fact Robb is an oathbreaker now, and why should men keep oaths to him when he does not keep his own.)

Her son wanted comfort, Catelyn realized; he wanted to hear that it would be all right. But her king needed truth.

I don't really have a comment here, just that this line hits hard, damn it's raw. The internal conflicts it contains.

"Th Others can take her, then," Robb cursed, in a fury of despair. "Bloody Rickard Karstark as well. (...) and all the rest of them. Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be king? (...) I told myself... swore to myself... that I would be a good king, as honorable as Father, strong, just, loyal to my friends and brave when I faced my enemies... now I can't even tell one from the other. How did it all get so confused? -"

D&D suck at their job = 🥛

I'm sorry, but show!Robb felt whinier, like he wasn't having much internal conflict beyond "this sucks but I gotta", (or maybe I'm remembering wrong because it's Been A While) Book!Robb is fully cracking under this pressure and you can feel it. It's not just "oh no, things are going wrong" it's the falling dominoes of consequences out pacing him before he can see they're there, and it weighs on him.

(also I'm thirsty and I wanted to excuse to drink... I think I'm coming down with something...)

... why were the boys naked? just sleeping nude? is that a thing? they don't have PJs and won't sleep in their clothes?

"Old gods or new, it makes no matter," Lord Rickard told her son, "no man is so accursed as the kinslayer."

I just had a mental image of Ardyn Izunia tearing this book apart for coming for him like that.

... damn this execution is a heavy scene, it feels like there are moments in it where Robb could turn back here and avoid his fate, but it's a lie. They've locked themselves into course with their actions, and at this point there is no turning back, no avoiding this execution or its fall out. The fallout would be devastating either way.

"It's a hard thing, to take a man's life." "I know. I told him, he should use a headsman. When Lord Tywin sends a man to die, all he does is give the command. It's easier that way, don't you think." "Yes," said Catelyn, "but my lord husband taught his sons that killing should never be easy."

... you know what? D&D suck at their job = 🥛

Because I really don't think they got this. It's a central theme, responsibility and the value of life, and it seems to have just flown over their heads in favour of cool sword fights and sexposition. But it's so present in the books? all the characters who have killed people, you can see how it weighs differently to them, the people and circumstances and justifications and reasoning and the trauma. and D&D just ask "how many packets of fake blood can we buy with this season's budget?"

"Jeyne, child, you have wed the north, as I did... and in the north, the winters come." She tried to smile. "Be patient. Be understanding. He loves you and he needs you, and he will come back to you soon enough. -"

This feels both like a poetic way to talk about culture shock between the south and north, but also like Cat's saying "you've married into a family with a history of mental health issues." Because yeah, there are vibes in the Starks; depression, anxiety, lowkey autism. And that is good advice for living with people who do have mental health stuff going on: be patient, be understanding. Most importantly be aware that it's a long haul, whether there's meds that can make things "better" or not, some mental health stuff is a 'for life' thing.

The girl did seem to have a good heart, just as Robb had said. And good hips, which might be more important.

Ehehehehe

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Hey, I was thinking about elemental outbursts. Specifically in regards to surprise. Surprise tends to have a couple different elements mixed in. So you could say it's expected for the different emotions to be expressed by different elements and their facets. For the audience at least, we have a baseline. Well, what if for a particularly bad outburst it's based around only one element (or it looks like it at least.) Specifically the plant one. It might not hit the characters in the story as hard as being out of the ordinary (unless it happens after they see one, which would be fun because then you could justify the outburst being stronger. It not what they're usually expecting so it generates more surprise) Anyway he uses his ability to affect nature to summon flowers to give to his friends and crushes. They're how he shows affection. I know Jesse's outbursts tend to be triggered by jealousy, jealousy isn't inherently bad. It's just one of the ways your brain can point out a need. That doesn't mean it can't be hard to deal with it. I wanted to point out the jealousy aspect because he tends to get jealous of, lets say something very specifically related to who he gives flowers. Anyway I got plagued by brain worms where Jesse has a plant themed elemental breakdown because the implications would be very very fun and also you could use so much flower language in the fight (if there is a fight, could just be a breakdown in a closet with a bunch of flowers appearing but I stand by it being a very fantastic mental image either way.)

"It might not hit the characters in the story as hard as being out of the ordinary (unless it happens after they see one, which would be fun because then you could justify the outburst being stronger. It not what they're usually expecting so it generates more surprise)" <- THIS

is almost entirely why Jesse has to be away from people during his Outbursts in the first place. The amount of Surprise the outburst would generate just from occurring on top of how violent his are in a short amount of time + accounting for each individual person's reaction has the potential to be DEADLY, especially if he's having a REALLY bad time and he's way out of control (or if a person making him feel a certain way is literally right there.)

But the idea of only one element being channeled is a fascinating one! Especially being the Nature one, for, as you said, all the potential flower symbolism. This...gives me very fun ideas, thank you :D

(And the idea of Jesse giving out flowers with less than kind meanings–or they're just popping out against his will—in the middle of a fight has me reeling)

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft edition, Fundertainment Land Arc, part 4

You are presently standing in the line for the Grinder, it being the most popular attraction at the park, its a giant roller coaster with an aesthetic like a slaughter house. “Do they have haggis?” "Oh...a roller coaster like that. This will be fun.” “You still think that? Here?” "You couldn't tell I'm freaking out a bit by my gritting my teeth?” “No, we’re in a non-visual medium.” "Oh good, we're making waves! They said just before the oncoming tsunami…" "As long as it isn't a sludge tsunami…" “So, we standing here or you want me to clear out the line?” "It would probably be best if we follow the rules. After all these hooks may not be entirely for show.” "Oh god, this ride goes closest to the lab, he is abducting people to experiment on!” "We've humiliated the lords by surviving this long. We are now the star attraction.” As you get strapped in, the worker in a butchers outfit looks at you with dead eyes. "You're all gonna die.” Poom: "So what else is new?” Eventually you turn a corner and go into a tunnel, it’s pitch black, with the sound of machinery and screaming around you. Edmund: “Who would willingly subject themselves to this!?” Jonni: “Kids about to get Isekei-ed?” Gorbash: “WEEEEEEEEEEE!” Jonni limps down the corridor with Nyx attached to her leg. When you reach the double doors and push them open, the first thing that hits your nose is the smell, the stench of death in decay. Poom: "I'm getting flashbacks to Tuesdays.” [monster pic] Gorbash: "OH NOT YOU FUCKS AGAIN!” Edmund: “I don’t recognize that at all.” Jonni: “You were naked in another man’s castle.” Nyarlathotep: "Ah, the grindhouse riff-raff.” Gorbash: “I think this is the one whose ass Vesh was kicking before we went into their terrible meat and surgery dimension.” “Eddie! Tetanus booster!” "Be at peace, for I am the Angel TriVia, of where the three roads meet.” “I’m gonna make him dead! Or disassembled! Depending on how he identifies!” “MARSHAL, YOU HAVE FINALLY COME HOME TO PAPA.” Jonni looks over to Marshall. “Kumquat?” Poom: "Which one is Kumquat?” "My father was Vine ‘Brickface’ Samuels, Sheriff of Last Light.” "YOUR FATHER VAS A CALCULATOR AND YOUR MOTHER WAS A COIN OPERATED MECHANICAL BULL.” Gorbash: “...Well i didn't need that mental image.” "WHY MUST YOU BE SO DIFFICULT. All I want you to do is entertain people. AND THEN KILL THEM.” Jonni: “Jeebus K Muffinlips, can I PLEASE turn this guy inside out?” "I AM THE ONE WHO DOES THE DISEMBOWLING HERE YOU INFLAMMABLE THOT.” Jonni: “BECAUSE I DON’T DO KNIFE WORK! I’M JUST GONNA MAGIC IT SO YOUR INSIDES ARE YOUR OUTSIDES.” Gorbash: “...I don't think I've seen Marshal fuck-word angry. This is going to be quite the reckoning.” Okay for that one, when yo u guys start down the service tunnels, you see some....thing begin to emerge from the shadows, something made of bone and tar and bits of popcorn, but then it see's Marshal, see's what mood he is in, and it very quietly backs up and vanishes back into the darkness. Poom: "One of the smartest creatures we've encountered.” Gorbash: “Occasionally even the horrors of the deep are smart enough to realize when they don't want a piece of something.” Eventually you come to a three way fork in the road. Angel TriVia: <"MY time has come.”> "They had a sadistic demon child help them design this place, didn't they?” "Hello Molly.” “Apparently, yes.” Jonni pushes Edmund in front. "ACK! Hey! What the heck Jonni!?” “Don’t complain, you get to keep your pants this time.” "Someone else want to try their luck?” Poom steps forward. Edmund: "I trust Poom.” Poom: [rolls a 1] Edmund: “She's the kind of person who can —" Jonni: “I’ve never seen someone lose tic tac toe to themselves…” Edmund: "I think she was trying to play Candyland…" Azathoth: "Zzzzzzzhmp? What was that? I think I fell asleep.” Nyx: ”Darn it, Az, you were supposed to be giving Poom hints on how to win the game, not sleeping.” GM OOC: Which is why I'm thinking of a skill to use. OOC: Religion's +12 GM OOC: What are you going to do, appeal to the Tic Tac Toe gods? Poom: "Sorry about that: I didn't know everyone else played without real toes.” GM: Poom you remember yelling "KING" ME" and then everything went blank. “MIND CRUSH!” Poom: "I think that's my thing.” "You were a very challenging opponent." Edmund said with true admiration at a Tic Tac Toe connoisseur. "WHAT IS IT ABOUT THIS PLACE AND MEAT!?” “I thought the Meat Man was a gnome?” "And THAT's why my cooking is a curse.” Gorbash: “Fuck this place.” Poom: "That's what we're doing.” You are all now in a cheerfully decorated room with painted murals on the wall, there is a wooden table with six small paper boxes and crowns on it, and a sign hung overhead that says intermission. Jonni: “Bigbooty?” Nyx: ”I am not dressing up for a birthday party, I have enough nightmares about a few of mine gone wrong as it is.” Marshal: "You only had one a year…be grateful.” Edmund gestures to TriVia, who curiously goes to inspect one of the boxes. TriVia: "It contains a small sandwich, a pouch of fried potato wedges, three apple slices, a small carton of milk, and a toy.” Edmund: "Huh. Apple slices. Really?” It’s a normal happy meal. Perfectly mundane. OOC: So rancid dog food. Gorbash proceeds to demolish the contents of one of the boxes. “It's standard fare for this place. So if you don't want yours I'll take it.” Poom: "I've survived this long by not eating strange food. Help yourself.” Gorbash: “Funny enough, I've survived BY eating strange food. Don't mind if I do.” Edmund: ”We're going to face an evil Marshal aren’t we? One rebuilt in the bowels of Fundertainment but bereft of any soul or spirit…..Lahshram." Poom: "Bless you.” Edmund: "Thank you." Wiping his nose with a napkin from the box. Filling the entire doorway are a giant sideways facing pair of teeth. Marshal pulls out his maul, and begins a rhythmic chant as he takes practice swings. ”I. Make. Holes. In teeth.” "Be ready for anything. Danzi might be a cryogenically preserved head in the vaults before us.” "There is no way I’m ready for anything this place can throw at us.” OOC: Basically, Gunder is corpo Walt Disney, Danzi is insane futurist Disney. "They'll need proper burial.” “I mean, around here I think that’s trash pick up on Tuesday. They probably deserve better’n that.” Jonni: “Five gold says he put his brain in a Marsh-bot.” Gorbash: “I don't think that's big enough for his ego.”

[nandinip]

Movie Posters representing Gender, Race, and Disability

Background!

Movie posters are a visual aid used to draw audience in to watching the film. Movie posters are like a trailer that help provide information to the viewers and gets the viewer curious about the movie.Movie posters contain basic information like the title of the movie and names of actors, directors, and producers.

In 1890, Jules Chéret, was the first to release a movie poster! And since then movie posters have been a hit and many cultures around the world started using posters to attract an audience.

first movie poster!

How is gender represented in movie posters?

From 1950 to 1960, men were not represented in posters rather the posters only contained images of non-gender category or women posters.

From 1970 to 1980, no women were represented on posters rather it was all men. And in the 2000s men still are represented more than women.

It is interesting to note, that when a women is showcased on a poster, it is always of her being half-naked and wearing makeup. And this was to attract the male audience to the film. However, when males were/are showcased as hard workers, being adventures, and having high roles in societies such as officers and doctors. Sadly, this trend still continues.

Children are exposed to film and posters from a young age so to have females present as sex appeal and males as the dominant ones, it establishes unspoken guidelines in children and causes them to adhere this thinking when older. If we want to bring a change in thinking in the future generations, we need to stop creating harsh gender roles in film and film posters and start treating all genders as equal and not sexualzing one.

As seen in this poster, the women is half naked where as the man is fully clothed. Even though, she is holding a weapon in her hands, she is not taken as seriously as the man. She is present for the sex appeal more than her character in the movie. When looking at the man, he seems to have an important and dangerous job due to the weapon in his hand. But at first glance, the man seemed to have an important role due to him being fully clothed.

How is race represented in movie posters?

Movie posters exclusive have caucasians and not many African Americans. In this section, I will provide you with some examples for race being represented in film posters.

America's black culture represent in poland

1950s to 60s a lot of B-rated movies were produced by black indie companies

Asian Representation in movies (we watched this in class!)

How is disability represented in movie posters?

There are three main types how people with disabilities are represented: he helpless victim, the evil villain, and the inspirational hero

The helpless victim: usually depicted as having little happiness in their life and wanting to live a "normal" life. This character usually deceipted as needing saving from their disability. And usually is there to evoke emotions of sympathy in audience. These types of posters causes people to have a false assumption about people with disabilities as now the audience believes that people with disabilities cannot live a "normal" life and also establishes an inexplicable power difference causing people with disabilities to not get the same respect or treatment as people without disabilities.

The evil villain: Deceipted as dangerous and untolerable. This character is often seen in horror films, such as the Unbreakable trilogy and Gerald’s Game. These types of posters and films causes the audience to walk out with a lot of misinformation and fear about people with disabilities (physical and mental disabilities).

The inspirational hero: deceipted as someone "overcoming the odds". These types of posters and films are used to motivate people through a disabled individuals journey. Even though, this creates a positive stereotype it is still a stereotype. This also causes people who do not have disabilities to have an expectation that people with disabilities can overcome their disability if "they are hard enough".

movie where a woman is met with a severe accident but after the accident she learns to work with her body and get back on her feet by herself.

In this post I have explore how movie posters affect our perception of gender, race, and disability in society. People first are exposed to movie posters and they already have a mental note on the type of movie and the characters of the movie. So movie posters are always made with care and a lot of thought.

Citations:

Thank you for reading!

[rach172]

The Office Fic Idea:

Okay, I was rewatching the Office again when S06E01 Gossip played. It was as I was listening to dear Andy's(he's my fav and I'll never forgive the writers for doing him dirty like they did) 'Hypothetical Scenario' involving Brad Pitt and a Cabana when the thought hit me...that is an extremely specific situation to be referencing. Which brings us to the prompt, wouldn't it be hilarious if that actually happened. Like a young Andy, either fresh out of Highschool, or possibly during college, went on vacation to a beach resort somewhere, coincidentally the same place that Brad Pitt went to 'get away from it all'.

There are several routes this could take, alcohol and dares may have been involved, maybe it was because of whatever equivalent of a scienceology challenge was going on at the time. The reasoning isn't important, just that the actor ended up planting one on Andy Bernard and the Nard-Dog ended up with an I.O.U. that he should feel free to cash in at any time in exchange for 1. Not suing and 2. Keeping the incident under wraps.

Which brings us to the fun part of the fic. Andy calls in that favor, maybe to get tickets to a sold out show, or arrange a meeting between Oscar and his favorite Director/Actor/Writer/Whatever. Or maybe one of Oscars relatives has an emergency back in Mexico, or he missed his flight and is currently stranded in a foreign country because all outgoing planes are booked full for at least a week? No need to fear cause the Nard-Dog knows a guy with access to a private jet that totally owes him one. And once its out Oscar just thinks back to that conversation they had and is just...in shock. His boyfriend kissed Brad Pitt! What the hell Andy?!!! Can ya'll tell I love Oscar/Andy btw? :D But no seriously, I think this scenario is hilarious and it can pretty much work with any pairing or even no pairing. I might try to write something for it eventually myself, but in case I don't get to it, or wont do it justice, I'm putting this out there in case any competent writers who loves Andy as much as I do gets inspired. Also, if somebody already did something similar and I just haven't found it, I apologize and please let me know so that I can read it and link it here!

In any case, may you all get as much giggles out of this mental image as I did! :D