#Jimmy should place in the top 5

[kaylv18]

WILD LIFE SESSION 7 SPOILERS FROM NAMEMC !!

Gem on yellow life?? this season is def coming to a close in session 8 or 9. Really sad that the bandana and target on her hip didn't carry over to her yellow life skin.

Wonder how many permadeaths there are this session, wouldn't be surprised if Jimmy or Lizzie died next. Scar is on his red life tho, wonder what'll happen to them. Scott is also on his yellow life, Pearl's skin didn't change so she's probably still on yellow as of now. UPDATE: Pearl changed her skin to Scarlet Pearl 3 mins ago, whoops. Scott also changed his skin, he now has a red hoodie with creaking eyes?? He's still on his yellow life, with the yellow eyes and streak in his hair. Skizz and Mumbo changed their skins despite being out, they somewhat look like zombies. I'm pretty sure we're all thinking abt what kind of wild card is present in session 7.

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 5; ghoap x reader) masterlist

-

Give him blood and he’ll give you something new to chew on.

Except that isn’t the way it goes. Not this time at least.

He tries to talk Ghost out of it, but it falls on deaf ears. Blatantly ignored. The car barrels down the motorway under the cloak of night, a swell of stars overhead as the city falls farther behind. Radio shut off. Johnny thinks if Ghost had his way, the radio would’ve been pulled out entirely, just wires and an empty, black cavity in the dashboard, but it’s a rental. 

And no one wants to deal with the paperwork involved in damaging military property. Not even Ghost.

Ghost won’t so much as glance over at him. Unaffected as ever, as if they didn’t just fuck. Johnny’s stomach hurts when he thinks about it. Even without her knowing, he’s broken his girl’s trust. Not for the first time; maybe not even the last. His guilt echoes not only that he let Ghost make him come, but that he liked it—that the buzz in his bones says do it again, please god, again, please let me come, I need to come, touch me, please—

He thinks about his girl, then turns to Ghost again.

In the pit of his stomach, Johnny knows this is wrong. In his rational mind, he knows it. If he were in a better place, he wants to think that he’d make a real attempt to change Ghost’s mind, maybe get him to turn around at the next gas station, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling in his belly at the prospect of seeing his girl again after a week of nothing. 

The silence has been eating away at him. Bits of his brain flaking away, moth-eaten. Checking his phone again and again to no new messages, getting the same voicemail message whenever he calls. Something flutters high in his chest, an itch he can’t scratch; it tells him to take off in the middle of the night, drive all the way back home and pound on her door until she’s forced to answer it, forced to talk to him face to face.

Again and again, he tries looking at it from her perspective—tries to empathize with her. What he would’ve done in her shoes had she allowed a coworker to grab his dick in front of a crowd of strangers. It’s more than fair, he thinks. His own shame leaks out of his pores in the middle of the night, sleeping on top of the covers because he sweats right through the sheets. 

And yet, he keeps butting up against his own anger. Talk it out with me, yell at me, he growls into her voicemail, anger growing as the days pass one by one. 

It’s the road that alerts him to their arrival into the city more than anything. More cracks in the asphalt, the car rattling over sewer depressions and potholes in a way that says home sweet home. Usually it’s a source of comfort, like seeing the silver lining on grey clouds or the iridescence in an oil spill, purples and greens catching the light. Not now. Now the road winds like descending into the underworld, each turn coming with a sinking feeling. 

They park down the road from the flower shop, tucked just out of sight. A cool breeze wafts over his hot face when he steps out of the car. It nearly rocks him back. When he glances up, his heart stutters at the sight of her bedroom window, sealed tight now. Only cracked open during their sleepovers, when Johnny runs a bit too hot at night for them to sleep comfortably with the window closed. 

“Should I…do ye want me to give her a call to wake her up?” Johnny asks tentatively, shutting the car door softly so as not to make a noise. 

Ghost shakes his head. “We’ll let ourselves in.”

Johnny’s picked hundreds of locks in his time; he’s jimmied open doors with crowbars, set up explosive charges, used a good old fashioned ram from time to time—no stranger to the trade—but it feels decidedly uncomfortable with Ghost at his back, staring down at him as he breaks into his own girlfriend’s apartment. 

“This is a bad idea,” he grumbles, turning the pick in the lock until he hears a familiar click inside. 

Ghost doesn’t answer, just raps his knuckles against the back of Johnny’s head. A silent get a move on. 

Her apartment looks the same but different when they enter it. His muscles remember the layout though. The pink couch in the living room with two dimpled pillows on either side, the footstool by the door, the stand with her shoes all piled in neat little rows, the vase on her kitchen island with a fresh new bundle of flowers, fragrant when he dips his head to take a whiff. He’s loved flowers ever since meeting his girl. 

Ghost doesn’t try to muffle his footsteps for once. He rummages through her cabinets and drawers with all the finesse of a first time burglar looking to get caught. It smacks of intentionality. Johnny’s worked with him too many times in the field to know that if Ghost wanted to disappear into the darkness, he would. He’d be the thing creeping silently through the shadows, tread lighter than air, close enough to touch but never see. 

So it’s more than deliberate when he noisily shuts a drawer. Baiting her out. 

It’s no surprise when Johnny hears her creep around the corner from out of her bedroom. He’s tucked in the shadows of the living room, just out of the light, so he sees her first when she comes silently down the hall, whole body trembling with fear, the bat she keeps beside her bed drawn over a shoulder. Even her hands shake around the grip.

Of course she yelps when Johnny says her name, stepping out of the shadows, swinging wild. He winces when the bat smashes into a lamp, shattering it on impact. 

“Fuck!” she screams, scurrying backwards into the wall behind her. Several framed pictures rattle against the wall, nearly knocked off their hooks. 

“Noisy, isn’t she?” Ghost grumbles from the kitchen, tossing a bored glance over, unbothered by the commotion. He undoubtedly heard her creeping down the hall as well. 

“What the fuck?” she gasps, chest heaving when she breathes. Her eyes dart from Johnny to Ghost’s massive form in the other room. Poor nervous thing. She must recognize Johnny’s voice saying her name even through the panic because her lips droop in a frown, more confused than petrified.

“Hen, it’s jus’ us—nothing to worry about,” Johnny coos, hands stretched out in front of him to show he means no harm. 

It gets her to lower the bat, but only just, the slightest dip that has him darting forward to pry it gently from her hands. The ceramic shards on the floor will have to be swept up later, but he’s relieved that at least she didn’t step on any of them. 

Up close, she’s just as pretty as he remembers. Pretty as pie. How could she not be? In the glow of youth still, not like it's been a decade since they last spoke face to face—only a little over a week. A sight for sore eyes, even though Johnny’s narrow when he stares down at her and thinks about the week of his texts and calls going unanswered. His jaw undulates, rage held back by the thin thread of her scent that wafts under his nose, making him lean into her. 

Breathe in and out. 

“Us?” she repeats, brow furrowing.

She glances over at Ghost again, the man still ambling around the kitchen, at home in her little one bedroom apartment like he visits her frequently. Like it’s his as well. 

“Aye…Ghost wanted to come—Simon wanted to apologize…for the other day,” Johnny explains. 

“You broke into my apartment in the middle of the night…so Simon could apologize for sexually harassing me?” she says, the disbelief smacking in her words. 

“Hen, it's no' nice to say it like that—” 

“No time like the present,” Ghost says, not ashamed in the slightest. “Heard you weren’t taking Johnny’s calls. Might not’ve had to do this if you’d picked up.” 

Johnny doesn’t believe a word of that, but there’s no reason to call him out on it now. 

He can see her wrestle with a trifecta of emotions competing for first place. Anger, embarrassment, and then, a smidge of worry holding up the rear. Aware of the fact that she woke up to two grown men, one practically a stranger, breaking into her apartment under the guise of having a conversation. His heart aches at the thought. The lion’s share of the blame rests with him, but still it’s her that suffers for it. 

“You…you shouldn’t be here,” she rasps, flinching when Johnny lays a hand on her waist, towering over where she’s still cowered against the wall. Bat gone now, defenceless. Her pupils narrow to a pinprick. He almost tuts, poor thing. Scared out of her wits. 

It feels so good to touch her though. Soft and yielding. 

“‘Was Simon’s idea, hen, but, ah—” his breathing picks up when his fingers tighten on her waist and she squirms “—I was goin’ crazy thinkin’ ye were pissed for what happened last week. Couldnae get a wink of sleep—kept closin’ my eyes and seein’ your face. Nearly broke me.”

“I am pissed at you,” she snaps, temper getting the better of her.

“I ken, I ken,” Johnny coos, ducking his head until his lips graze her temple. “Simon’s sorry—we came all the way here so he could tell ye to your face, but fuck, hen, I’m sorry too—shoulda said something instead of standin’ there like a fuckin’ dolt—”

“You should’ve,” she interrupts, still fuming mad, an iceberg melting right in front of them. It makes his cock pulse.

“—Aye, hen, I’ve no excuse, none at all. Shoulda told Simon to fuck off and keep his hands to himself—”

“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost says warningly, finally stepping into the living room. He fills out the archway imposingly, almost forced to twist his body on an angle to step in. 

Her eyes cut over to Ghost, narrowing, lips pursing. Johnny’s heart jumps in his chest. It’s one thing to see his girl again in the flesh, but to see her all righteous and on the verge of an argument—he could bend her over the back of the couch now, sink into the plush, delicate folds of her pussy, reacquaint himself with deep, languid thrusts. Heaven after not getting his cock wet in a week.

He flinches when he thinks about the last person to touch his dick. 

“So you’re sorry?” she says to Ghost, her disbelief clear. Difficult to see why she wouldn’t find it hard to believe that the man that shamelessly grabbed her ass in broad daylight in front of a group of his colleagues and her boyfriend would now choose to apologize. 

Johnny knows the answer is no when he sees the way Ghost’s eyes rove over her body, taking stock of her little cotton pajamas and her bare feet curling against the cold floor. Ghost tilts his head to the side, eyes travelling back up to meet hers. “Sure I am, bird. Don’t I look sorry?”

Neither of them answer that. Arguing with Ghost feels different, like inviting in danger. Moving too suddenly in front of a hungry dog, jowls loose and salivating for a bite. 

He takes a step closer. “Complete pillock, wasn’t I? And now Johnny’s getting the silent treatment ‘cause of it. Just couldn’t bear another second of him moping around base on the verge of tears.” 

Johnny frowns at that. His girl frowns too, but there’s something more to it. He wouldn’t blame her for not accepting Simon’s apology, if he could even call it that—nothing about it rings sincere, more like words spoken softly to call a kitty over—but questioning it feels worse somehow. Like detonating a bomb at two thousand feet above ground. 

“…Okay,” she says instead, voice trembling a little. “Apology accepted. You guys can go home now.”

“Bird’s forgiving, huh, Johnny?” 

Johnny preens despite himself. “Aye. She’s a good girl, Lt. Told ye so.”

Ghost nods. “That’s right. A good girl who’s gonna let us make it up to her ‘til we have to report back in forty-eight hours.”

“Wait, you can’t—” she starts, then cuts herself off when Ghost’s eyes flash.

He can’t help the way he shudders at the helpless look on her face. Downturned eyebrows, pretty lips slack with disbelief, just the slightest hint of a whine building in her throat that dies when it dawns on her that nothing short of calling the cops will make the two of them leave. 

And she’s a good girl—would never call the cops on him. His perfect girl. Sweet as pie. 

Johnny falls in love a little bit more when she presses her squeezed fists against her eyes and exhales. “Fine. I’m too—I’m going back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

Ghost doesn’t react to her acceptance. It’s taken as a simple fact of nature—he says something and it happens. He speaks the world into being. 

“I’ll take the couch,” he grunts, finally sitting down to unlace his boots. He looks comically large on her little couch—it’s more than likely that his feet will hang off the end, if not everything from the knee down. 

Johnny already figured as much. No point in them driving all the way back to base when they both have the next two days off duty and there’s a perfectly serviceable couch for Ghost and the other half of her bed for him. He thought they’d have to convince her a bit more or strong arm her into it (a putrid thought; he’d rather have sweet talked her into the idea), but his girl always manages to surprise him in the best way. 

On that thought, he looks over his shoulder towards the bedroom door, cock throbbing again at the thought of getting to hold his girl’s body against his. Touch starved dog. Mangy mutt, tongue lolling out at even the possibility of a pet. 

Ghost must notice the object of his gaze because he sets him straight. “You can take the floor, Johnny.” 

His tone brooks no argument. When Johnny whirls around, the words already on his tongue, she’s my girl, I’ve already slept in that bed ten times over, the sight of Ghost’s bare face, the mask now off, dangling in his hand like some scrap of fabric, makes him lose his train of thought. It’s not often he’s granted the luxury of seeing Ghost’s face—wide, clean shaven jaw, buzzed blond hair, old burn marks like a half-moon around his eye, nasty old scar slicing through his lips—and to see it now, here, makes something in him give. 

Saturnine man with a wolf’s appetite. Ravenous. 

It burns him that his girl looks slightly relieved at having the bed to herself. Irks him. Makes his jaw clench on a mean remark, half tempted to spit out something cross. Just because things have gotten complicated, now he’s not welcome in her bed? After the week he’s spent toiling, trying to make amends? Pleading desperately over the phone, stewing in guilt and heartache—Johnny knows she’s a good girl, but if he finds out that she’s replaced him with someone else in the week since they last saw each other—

Even the thought makes him see red.

He watches her as she turns around to retreat back to bed, more than a little displeased. 

“Give Johnny a little kiss before bed, why don’t you, bird?” Ghost lightly suggests. Not a suggestion. 

She freezes mid-turn. His expression dares her to put up a fuss. Johnny again nearly clucks his tongue, troubled on her behalf. Her spitfire nature is snuffed out easily under that stare. Grown men with experience in the field wither under Ghost’s stare. It’s no weakness of hers that she acquiesces time and again to his demands, glancing up at Johnny from under her eyelashes before shuffling over, pressing the lightest of kisses to his cheek. 

“Better than that,” Ghost grunts, unimpressed. 

His poor darling. Humiliated now. No skin off his back though. Johnny’s heart pumps double time when she presses her lips to his; soft petals that spread when he slips his tongue into her mouth, too eager after a week of nothing. Touch starved. Desperate to sink into her, lap his tongue over her lips and the roof of her mouth and press her jaw open to spit messily in her mouth. Take it, hen, every piece of me.

She rips her lips from his and dances away when he tries to get his hands on her, eyes wide, casting one last glance over at Ghost before hightailing it back to her room. 

He barely resists going after her. Only Ghost’s stare roots him in place; his voice in Johnny’s head that rumbles, heel. I’ll tell you when to go.

He still doesn’t know what it says about him that he angles himself towards it. Bows his head to it. Moth to a flame that shocks him to the bone when he touches it.

Ghost tosses him the second pillow from the other end of the couch and takes the only blanket for himself. No matter. Johnny’s bivouacked on snowy cliff sides, chilblains blistering his toes for weeks; nights spent camped in torrential downpours, his tent on the verge of collapsing; windswept baysides chilling him to the bone. He can handle a pillow on a hardwood floor. 

The ebb and flux of an ocean in his ear, and then Ghost’s voice from the couch: “I’ll take first watch.”

Whole body falling loose as if snipping a cord tethering him to the world. 

“I’ll clean up the lamp in the morning,” he mumbles, vision already blurring. Ghost hums low in his throat.

He falls asleep with Ghost’s voice in his head, his girl’s taste still in his mouth.

[dykedvonte]

I think a big misunderstanding is the power people give Curly to actually change things about the way the pony express operates or could’ve done things on the Tulpar.

We are talking about a company that docks pay for bad synergy despite mandated psych evals that should tell which staff members would work well together, only allots for 5 hours of sleep despite having literally no other tasks to truly do and locks all resources behind the access of one person. The last one is likely to manage resources and make it easier to justify collective punishment and blaming one person for it; someone needs something in “excess” or the captain gives in? It’s all on them your pay is docked. Instant resentment.

It’s insidious how the company works, it’s by design to distract you from coming after them, to force tensions to line their own pockets. With all the restrictions and forced interactions, altercations are bound to happen. 5 hours of sleep a day, limited sources of entertainment, no real tasks… the monotony alone would cause bad cabin fever, mix that with just only one absolute mediator and you get the exact environment that allows shit like in the game to happen.

The idea he could just complain and try to throw his weight around to get them to dig into their pocket for the crews comfort is laughable and misses the predatory and dehumanizing aspect of capitalism the Pony Express represents. Curly was and is still just another asset to them. Being a top show pony doesn’t mean he’s anywhere close to the actual top. He is the top of the working ladder, not whoever’s in corporate, he wouldn’t even be on the bottom step unlike what Jimmy perceives. The resounding recommendations he would get are almost mocking as they throw him out like nothing just like the rest. Being a shitty fucking company, how much do you bet they’d mean anything anyways, especially since he wanted to leave the field all together.

He made a fuss and they didn’t listen, he says he should’ve done more but you can tell he knows it wouldn’t have changed anything. Jobs like this are willing to make a sacrifice if it means even a penny more. Curly makes a bigger fuss they likely would’ve just found an “unrelated” reason to fire him, hired a more pliable guy or, terrifyingly, promoted Jimmy. The company was failing, going to shut down whether anything happened on the ship or not. But knowing that they were shutting down and that everyone, including him, would be out of a job with this being their last paycheck, he had to factor in not destroying the last bit of their financial stabilities combined with every other issue on the vessel and his own. He gets another cryopod or locks and then he has to break to them that they are not only fired but there will be substantial cuts to their paychecks due to the “upgrades” (things that already should’ve been in place on their part) on top of anything else that could be docked along the way.

You can blame him for saying it so early into the trip but then again, if he mentioned it later who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse? On the capitalism side alone how would people in a galaxy away from home, out of a job and already stir crazy react? Don’t get me started on how Jimmy would have reacted if he realized he only had two days left to fix what would be a very hard to miss “problem” in his head…

I can’t even consider explaining this as devils advocate because it’s just facts of the world we and they live in and factors that heavily affected the situation. People are just so quick to make claims on the ease of the choices when P.E literally makes it hard to choose to do anything but suck it up.

[fairestbeard]

The Bear “Pop” episode (S2x05) and the use of signs.

*so this meta is based on the assumption that The Bear is using magical realism in its story telling. Take it as seriously as your delusion can carry cos we love being delusional in here and having a marvelous time.(Yeah, Carmy! Fun. Get it?)😁

I noticed a few things upon re-watching the show for the umpteenth time. I never liked episode 5 because it was so Claire-centric and seemed very bleh but because I was still trying to be objective about it, I tried to watch it again and I couldn’t escape the way danger signs were grabbing me throughout the episode.

The abundance of red:

 Red could signify passion, desire or even adventure. It could also signify danger. It took a while to get it; why I had the feeling of unease throughout the episode before (I had chalked it up to just the corny dialogue and cringe dramatics), now I strongly believe it was intentionally shot in the way it was, both the cinematography and dialogue to create that effect within the viewer (hypothetically, of course, one can’t be entirely sure).

 The use of red flagging:

-At the beginning red tapings are shown throughout the restaurant as part of the renovations.

-We see Carmy trying to get a hang of the mechanics of the prep markings and never making time on it much to his frustration. He is repeatedly shown against a red backdrop. This already sets up the idea that Carmy might be in danger of some sort.

- Uncle Jimmy comes in and takes over the background. We would later discover along the show (season 3) that he’s having money problems- basically going broke.

-They show Carmy tearing down a red barrier to gain access, which might be indicative that he isn’t reading the signs. Later he calls Claire, despite showing signs of feeling discomfort about it. This feeds the major progression of the episode.

-After a lackluster errand posting mail with Claire, They attend a party (I’m not even going to go into the cringe/disturbing segue into the party invitation, just focusing on the use of signs). Once, they get into the venue there is an unmistakable abundance of red- from the cups, bowls and various containers to the decorations- it’s just glaring red.

-Also before the party scene, we see Nat breaking the news to Syd that Carm has been hanging out with Claire and there’s red peppered throughout Nat’s background and she’s wearing a red inner top.

-His misery at that party is palpable as well but we won’t focus on that. Neither will we focus on the recoil inducing Logan saga. When Carm and Claire have their (romantic?) aside they are enveloped in a sea of red.

-Carm invites Claire to the restaurant and even there she is constantly against a red sign. She meets Syd and both of them immediately seem to be placed in a conflicting position as Syd is irked about Carmy abandoning his duties (and possibly also jealous). Claire is mostly flanked by a red sign, Syd is shown against an orange backdrop (orange could signify optimism, happiness, etc).

Syd leaves soon after.

-While Carmy and Claire are hanging out in the restaurant, Claire asks “What’s with all the green?” She doesn’t notice the red tapes and plasters but she wonders about the greens, which basically indicate the things he actually needs to be working at, at that time and in general green is also associated with growth, progress, etc. On the whiteboard, “carm/syd menu review” is written and circled in green.

While showing her around, he explains that ideally the prep should pass from station to station in five seconds and she comments that it’s fast. Carmy agrees “we’re very fast”, which seems to be a double entendre signifying that the relationship is moving too fast.

-Fak interrupts them as they try to kiss. He goes to send Fak away and when he turns to rejoin Claire, she is seen framed in taping, in what looks like a red question mark with the clock in view. ?! This is the first thing I had noticed and what made me re-watch the episode more closely.

 

Then I found this bone chilling clue:

This had been one of my personal worst part of the episode and seemed like a complete waste of scene- until it didn’t !!

While going into the house hosting the party, they are accosted by a weirdo who calls Carmy “bro” and claims to have been in the same wrestling team as him. Carmy doesn’t even recognize him. He then asks Carmy,

“What are you doing?”

Not, what are you doing here? Not, where have you been?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING????

And it sounds spookily like an accusation, a plea, a warning: A message.

Carmy is making a mistake! Maybe the mistake is the person, maybe the timing, maybe the approach. But Carmy in that moment is making a mistake.

We’ll see in consequent episodes that Carmy is quite spiritual. That whenever he looks up he actually is sending a prayer. He was actually the only one who took the “our mother of victory prayer” seriously, whereas it was more tongue-in-cheek for his other siblings. So maybe he was receiving a message from his higher power, or maybe from Michael, even(bro).

 

But in true Carmy fashion, he just wouldn’t listen!

[samijey]

broke my promise to myself and actually watched the jey/gunther match and let me tell you... whoever booked that finish wanted jey to look like an idiot. mega rant under the cut which you should honestly read im not your mama but you should read it

he splashes gunther after getting dominated for 80% of the match and an (honestly underwhelming) spear and we're meant to believe the +2yr champion who's beaten virtually everyone on the roster (including drew who recently beat jey TWICE) was about to be defeated right there?......okay............ but it gets worse

when the referee (for no real good reason) stops the count at 2 after jimmy rings the bell, jey "forgets" about gunther and turns his back to him, allowing gunther to get back up almost IMMEDIATELY (remember we were meant to think he was about to be beaten 5 seconds earlier) yet jey quickly superkicks him BUT THEN decides to dive at jimmy on the outside instead of going directly for another splash (girl help) so ofc when he does go for the splash, gunther gets the knees up, and to add a cherry on top of this shit sunday, pins jey right there after performing no extra offense - doesn't even roll him up, jey just lies there flat on his back and gets pinned (while michael cole screams "GUNTHER ROLLS UP JEY USO" to make me even more mad, apparently, as zero actual rolling takes place in the ring - just a leg hook & weight on the shoulders combo... and not a particularly vicious one either) I just ??????

and of-fucking-course as the TV feed gets cut, cue cody and punk who come out all smiles ready to do the usual fanservice routine for the live crowd and suddenly jey is mostly done selling what just happened and is smiling along with whatever you wanna call it - sending the crowd home happy?? since when did that become mandatory for broadcast shows??? why can't emotionally devastating moments count just as much when it comes to delivering a satisfying ending to the live crowd??? are you telling me they couldnt have had jey walk to the back WHILE SELLING the heartbreak/frustration of what happened and THEN send cody out to do the fanservice thing??? fuck maintaining suspension of disbelief I guess - you can't even argue that "it's fine it was just a treat for the live crowd" because WWE has posted the footage everywhere and promoted it heavily.

imagine if after the camera stopped rolling at last year's rumble, sami had got up, undone kevin's handcuffs and they both hugged and cut a cheerful promo at the crowd - everyone would've blasted wwe for undermining the impact of that finish and not letting the moment breathe.

here's another, even more similar example - remember what happened after summerslam when jimmy attacked jey? he sold the devastation of the moment all the way until he exited the arena, so why is this any different? because it's "just" TV and not a PPV? nah, i'll tell you why: because wwe does not give a shit about this current version of jey's character - he's there to spew the same catchphrase 100x an hour (because it sells merch and pops the crowd let's be honest), display a grand total of two personality traits, and rub his popularity off onto the people wwe actually consider stars

for comparison - you cannot tell me that if it was cody in this position (just lost an important match thanks to the most important person in his life + got attacked by them on top of it) wwe wouldn't have had him look devastated or cut an emotional, tearful promo that would've then been posted and promoted everywhere

"chill, it's not that serious" my apologies for wanting something i love (and KNOW can be so much better with minimal effort) to have a basic level of logic and thought put into it, it's not like wrestling booking is rocket science and we know wwe is NOT incapable of actually delivering good stuff 🤷??? the standards for this show are so damn low and seeing no one else be bothered by it does my fucking head in ouch ouch wheres the aspirin bye

[to-be-a-dreamer]

Session 5 Trivia "Winner" & Related Stats

Keep reading for the scoring explanation!

Okay so it took me a week because I got sick literally the day Episode 5 dropped and I've been fighting for my life (metaphorically) for the past week but I finally got the Trivia Week stats added to the Wild Life Spreadsheet! (It's also been updated weekly since my last post about it after episode 3, there's just been nothing super interesting since then) Obligatory, I think I got everything right but if I've missed anything or made any mistakes just let me know!

So basically what I did was tally up everyone's scores and then I weighted each correct answer based on the assigned difficulty. So a correct easy question would be worth 1 point, a medium is 2, and a hard is 3. That resulted in the following Top 5 ranking (full ranking visible in the spreadsheet):

BUT some players received more questions or more difficult questions than others, so I also put together a "normalized" ranking system that gives each player a score out of 100 based on the number of questions they received (this should also help a bit if I missed anything during my data collection but please do let me know if I missed a question, specifically for Jimmy, Lizzie, or Tango). Basically how this worked is that I calculated the maximum points each player could get from the questions they were given and used that to create a "difficulty rating" out of 100. I then took the actual amount of points they received and scaled it based on their difficulty rating. I don't know if y'all can see the formulas I used in the Google Sheet but lmk if anyone wants a deep dive into this method! I've only had like a semester and a half of statistics so this may not be a super mathematically sound method but it's the most fair one I could come up with.

Anyways: this normalized scoring system resulted in the graph you saw at the top of the post and a Top 5 ranking of:

Note: Impulse and Tango are tied at EXACTLY 55.555... points each and I don't know how they managed that, but Joel is about 0.136 points higher than Pearl

So not wildly different but It did shake things up a bit, especially in the rest of the rankings, and it gives you a better idea of the overall scale! For reference here's the graph again:

Some fun facts about the stats that I found:

Etho and Gem are the only players who answered every single question correctly (Etho received 4 hard questions while Gem only received 1, so he scored much higher than her in my scoring system. If you're counting purely the percentage of correct questions, Etho and Gem are tied for first and then there's a five-way tie for second)

Etho, Gem, Lizzie, and Skizz are the only players who never answered a question incorrectly, but Lizzie and Skizz were both victims of bot interference, and thus their timers ran out.

Overall, the server answered 75% of the questions correctly and had a normalized score of 36.

The distribution of question difficulties is incredibly close to evenly distributed (see spreadsheet for exact numbers)

Grian had the lowest difficulty rating, followed by Ren, Jimmy, and then Gem (He really doesn't know his own series, huh?)

Etho had the highest difficulty rating, followed by a three-way tie between Impulse, Scar, and Tango

There was a slightly noticeable correlation between the difficulty of the question failed and the resulting punishment, but the sample size is so small it's hard to say whether there was actually a reason behind this. (See spreadsheet for data and chart, it's mildly interesting)

The most drastic shift in placement due to the normalization is a tie between Tango, who moved up seven places (diff rating= 83), and Ren, who moved down seven places (diff rating = 56).

Unrelated but the snails still have the highest kill count on the server, even if you combine every single player kill.

This was a lot of fun and I can't wait to find more useless things to analyze that no one asked for!

[castielific]

20 questions for fic writers

How many works do you have on A03? 25

What's your total word count? 454 434 words

What fandoms do you write for? Supernatural. My first english fics were about Teen Wolf. Before that, I wrote in french about House MD and Stargate Sg1.

Top 5 fics by kudos:

Baby One More Time (sterek): 4 142 kudos

Carry You Home (sterek): 2 157 kudos

Fancy and the Tramp (destiel): 1 147 kudos

But she's the Devil in Disguise (sterek): 1 030 kudos

Grace my Soul (destiel): 891 kudos

Do you respond to comments?

Not all of them. Mostly because sometimes I'm not sure how to respond and feel ridiculous saying the same thing again and again. I appreciate them all though. They all make me so happy and I'm grateful to those who takes the time to leave one. They always make my day.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Like Clipped Petunias (destiel). This is my darkest fic. I've had people telling me they had PTSD from it. The end is really angsty and horrifying. It was not supposed to end this way, but this is where the story took me. In the end, I think it fits.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Grace my Soul (destiel) comes to mind. Baby Jimmy is such a delight and the last chapter of that fic is my favorite one.

Do you get hate on fics?

I don't remember ever getting any. I did have a few problems with people stealing my stories or posting them elsewhere. In the past, I also had a few stalkers/stans sending messages that creeped me out (especially for my french fics).

Do you write smut?

Yes! I didn't used to for Teen Wolf, but I've realized that fic with a higher rating tends to get more views (which I get because I rarely read pg13 or under myself), so I started writing it. I both love and hate writing those parts. It always feels kind of awkward to share those imageries, I'm never sure what words to use or how far I should go.

Craziest crossover?

I have a WIP that was a Psych/Teen Wolf crossover.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. More than once. I've had a few cases of people putting their own name on my stories, but mostly people repost it without my consent on other websites such as wattpad. Ao3 is the only place I post, so if you see one of my story elsewhere, it's been stolen. Please warn me if you do.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It's such an amazing thing to think about! I have had translations in spanish, russian and chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Once or twice. To be honest, I think I'm too OCD for it to work, I want it exactly as I want it lol. Help from betareaders is precious though, sometimes they write a couple paragraphs for me, or help me reformulate some things better, or just brainstorm the stoyline with me and give me brillant ideas. Fics are always better with some help.

All-time favorite ship? Destiel forever bb

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Frozen Inside (sterek) is the only WIP I've ever posted. I feel terribly guilty about it because it's been more than half a decade now and people are still asking me for a sequel. Sometimes I read it over and try, but it's just...done. Thankfully, the last chapter could be taken as a end. Kind of. God, I feel awful and I'm so sorry.

I also have tons of unpublished wip that are nearly over. I wish I'll be able to end them, because there are some stories I really really like.

What are your writing strengths?

Hyperfocus. My best stories come out that way. I'll write fifty thousand words in two days or not at all. Sadly, I can't control it. Inspiration also tend to come at the exact moment I can't possibly write, which is sooo frustrating.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description and world building. I tend to focus too much on the action and dialogues, but forget to tell about where they are and when. I let readers fill the blank way too often, which is something I really need to work on. I've been trying to rewrite some of my fics into original stories and that made it very obvious to me.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

It depends. Sometimes the translation is in the end note and it can put me out of the story, especially if it's an important part of the dialogue. If it's just a few words or if it's done in a way you understand it anyway, it can be beautiful!

First fandom you ever wrote in? Stargate SG1.

Favorite fic you've written?

The Guy Next Door (destiel), I think. I laughed, I cried, I squealed, I facepalmed. I must have looked like a maniac writing that story. Castiel was very fun to write for that one. Dean...I wanted to slap Dean so many times while I wrote. I had no control over him, I swear, he kept on being an idiot and made me scream at my screen.

I was surprised earlier, that this fic is not in the top five stories because it's one of my personal favorite.

This exercise was very fun to do. I won't tag anyone, if you feel like doing it, just do it, I'm curious to read about all of you!

[ask-serendipity-sky]

Hey,

Hope you’re having a lovely day. I sent this ask because I believe you and I are in the same place, the middle ground, not a pjm but not fully ot7(at least by twt standards)

I would like to have a discussion on the drawback of Jimin. I’m new to the fandom but even before I joined I distinctly remember the name Jimin.

I was a 1D fan and Jimin was all up on my YouTube. I remember watching his compilations before I could even tell the band members apart.

Anyway flash forward and that same Jimin is what has me joining a tumblr space to share my woes. Why?

Because I genuinely care for the guy. Like if something were to happen to him I’d cry. I resonate with his albums. Appreciate his music and I feel proud seeing how his voice has improved.

I don’t feel the need to be up in his private life but I still like to know he’s okay once in a while.

He is kind of like an acquaintance.

Anyway, I feel it’s important others know, as a past local, that Jimin knows how to shine.

This guy is smart, he knows himself and he knows his charms and if he WANTED to, he would.

No one can ignore Jimin. Everything about him stands out: his looks, his voice, his charms, his dance.

My take on FACE as someone in marketing: it’s poor marketing.

Hybe knows how to market.

You don’t become a multibillion dollar company and not have a marketing team.

My take on the marketing strategy: Use Jimin to draw the public eye, then as a ladder to push the other artists up.

On the street, smoke sprite, face, people Pt 2

All released around the same time. Multiple music shows, beat coin, Jimmy Fallon, face playlist, behind the scenes content, face live

Did I miss anything? Maybe it was such a whirlwind.

Anyway I give the marketing of FACE a 5/10. Nice buildup but chaotic/ crazy at the end.

Listening to Jimin I realize he’s very humble and hardworking.

he’s the kind of person that you can’t help but praise, and that stirs jealousy.

his members praise him, the persons who work with him praise him, his fans consistently praise him, his friends praise him, he’s even made an impact on his tattooist.

locals praise him. But he also stands out too much. Like from a marketing POV, JK is much safer? Even look at reactors, they feel so strongly toward Jimin that they have to preface: I’m straight blah blah whilst the others it’s just “yeah I like RM, JK/V”

I don’t know how to describe it. Jimin is so unique he’s controversial.

I could be watching a BTS video with a muggle and they recognize no one but the “guy who looks like a girl”, then all of a sudden we’re in a conversation about their sexuality .

it’s kind of frustrating, and annoying….so most Jimin fans are understandably silent. Especially with this influx of jealousy and hate

But what is silence? Silence is not good for data.

so what does hybe marketing team see? A whole lot of jungkook and tae

Jungkook and Tae on instagram. Jk and Tae on TikTok. Jk and Tae topping google searches. JK especially

so they likely conclude, we should make JK our pushed product. Because they can’t afford to push everybody.( or can they?)

And then, what happens? Jimin who’s been basically working with his in-house producers this whole time comes and pushes the competition out the water by topping the billboard, AS A DEBUT, with a song in KOREAN.(again the man isn’t safe lol)

I can’t describe to you how mindboggling this is. If I was a marketer I would have been shocked and realized that, Jimin has a silent fanbase but a highly engaged fanbase.

There is a reason Tiffany and Dior wanted him. A highly engaged fanbase is more likely to spend money, while a bigger but less engaged fanbase is good for mass appeal( say Calvin Klein)

A highly engaged which is so much more important imo. That is the foundation BTS propelled itself off of. That means you just need proper promotion, his silent fanbase just need to find the courage to speak and share and you have a force.

The issue? Jimin’s fans are silent because Jimin is silent. They were loud when Jimin was loud, locals couldn’t stop hearing Jimin. They subconsciously follow what Jimin wants, and maybe, like many others, they probably feel Jimin isnt ready to shake up the whole world yet as a solo artist yet.

and he made it clear he isn’t. He made the album to get it off his chest, and is basically saying he does NOT want to outshine his band members. (JM: I know you love me but remember BTS is first everyone)

so Jimin fans are basically stuck supporting his music and sticking with the ot7 till another time.

but I want to say to all Jimin fans, with that #1 on Billboard you made a statement. There’s a reason kpoppies are all up in your grill. There’s a reason Hybe is putting more focus on the other members. There’s a reason Jimin is not promoting himself that much.

cause they know, they all know. Even Jimin himself knows he’s a force to be reckoned with. The man just wants to chill as a member of the band for now, but continue reminding him and the company time and time again that he has the potential to shake up the industry .

Hi anon,

Thank you for sending this. I really do appreciate it. I'm sure a lot of people do as well.

Perhaps Jimin does want to do things quietly or perhaps not. But I don't want him to ever think that he is not enough for us and therefore we didn't do enough for him.

So let's follow what this anon is saying. Stream his music, give views to his MVs and fancams, engage with any content that has Jimin like Tiffany, Dior, naver articles, all of that.

We will see what happens in the future but for now, this is what we do.

Jimin deserves the world.

Thank you for sharing all this!

-I have attached a post with Jimin centric playlists:

-Please give views to this video (it's a competition, ok?):

-If we want Jimin to get awards, we must give Youtube views. I hate Youtube but it must be done.

-Presave Angel pt2, which will be released on Thursday, 6/15. Don't buy on Thursday, wait until Friday. I will post playlists once the song is out:

I think the link might not work for everyone so try here too:

https://fastx.lnk.to/AngelPt2

I think that's about it...for now

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 10)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 next: Part 11 | ao3

time for shenanigans.

Jim’s frustrated.

This whole week has been a major event after another; Joyce’s son vanishes on Sunday, the same happened with Eddie Munson the day after, and the Hollands’ daughter going poof the other day. And then Will’s body had been found in the quarry, which was a cherry pick top on with Benny’s sudden death and the damned MK Ultra stories he can’t get out of his head-

Jim pinches the bridge of his nose. Takes a deep breath. Exhales it out. Yeah, Jimmy boy, exhale some of that shit out.

He’s sitting in his vehicle on the roadside, just at the intersection of Cherry Ave and Cornwallis Road. He doesn’t really have much to do. Theoretically, he should be sitting his ass behind his desk at the station but what is he going to do?

The goddamn suits and rangers of the state had shown up right after Will’s body was recovered and told him to relax because they got it all covered.

Yeah, right.

In a different time, Jim wouldn’t mind shouldering off the responsibility and leave the big hats to finish it. But he’s not that kind of cop. He doesn’t trust the state to place their greasy hands over the cases. At best, they’re going to fuck it all up.

But it seems that they really aren’t kidding about being involved. When Jim had tried to get into the morgue last night to do a better autopsy on Will’s body, the doors were guarded by, not one, but three rangers. He almost punched them all out, but he had simply shared the most polite conversation he can with them before they politely kicked him out.

He had thought about seeing Joyce earlier this morning, but he would be a heartless jackass to accidentally send her to a public breakdown at her son’s funeral.

Now he’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, staring at nothing on the road, unsure what to do and where to start.

His mind wanders to the notebook sitting in the glovebox. Having already read it front to back, he can admit that Wayne really has a sharp eye for everything. There’s one particular point about Eddie being last seen with a cut on his hand that’s nagging the back of Jim’s memory cave. But nothing solid comes up so he brushes it aside for now.

“How long it’ll take for you to even care out what happened to my nephew before his body turns up next?”

Jim stops his tapping on the wheel and drops his forehead against it, sighing heavily. Wayne really knows exactly what to say that haunts you for the rest of your damned life.

Not so different to what Joyce had fired back at him few days ago.

Will’s body comes back to his mind again. He hadn’t seen him up-close, not with the coroner being defensive on preventing contamination. But Jim’s not an idiot. He had seen enough of Will’s perfectly intact body to call bullshit on the accepted belief the kid fell into the quarry.

Suddenly, he gets a sinking feeling in his gut.

Jim looks up towards the direction of the laboratory. He’s too far to actually see the building but he feels its presence nonetheless. Enough to conjure up the image of Martin Brenner’s polite smile when he said no, we haven’t seen a child here on these grounds.

He starts the engine.

—

From the way Wayne keeps glancing up at Joyce, she senses that her pacing is getting to his nerves.

It’s fair for him to think that. She’s been practically burning through his kitchen floor for the past thirty minutes. Or she thinks it’s been thirty minutes. Hours were quickly slipping and the sun’s already setting outside. 

Hours without any word from Will or Eddie. Not even a tiniest flicker from the lightbulbs. 

Despite her empty stomach, she can feel bile climbing up her throat. She swallows it down, daring a glance back to Wayne. 

He looks up at her again, his hand rubbing the side of his temple. Joyce tenses when she catches his mouth opening as if he’s ready to say something. She’s already had enough listening to the hauntings of her mother’s scolding in her ear and whispers from the townsfolk (including Lonnie and Jonathan) right behind her back. She doesn’t want to hear another one to her face from Wayne.

Just then, through her anxiety, she gets struck by a realization.

“Of course!” Joyce snaps her fingers in a feign of excitement. “They probably went back to my house!”

Wayne gives her a bemused look. “Your house?”

She nods quickly, already pulling the older man up as she reminds him through a long-winded explanation of how she manages to establish communication with Will and later Eddie at her home. Wayne looks all the more confused, but he hurries along with her to his truck. It’s a quicker drive from the trailers to Cornwallis. Wayne follows her brief directions, soon parking on the driveway. Before he even stops, Joyce jumps out and runs to the front door. 

She realizes a second too late that she should give him a warning about the current state of her living room. But whatever words she’s about to say withers in her mouth when she steps into the house.

The Christmas lights are gone. 

Every one of them that she’s strung up, even a few she had reluctantly pushed to the corners this morning, are nowhere to be seen now. Her only way to speak to her baby, gone.

As she gapes around the room, her eyes land on the suspect, who’s kneeling on the couch and methodically replacing a new layer of wallpaper above it. Right were the letters used to be.

“Lonnie.” She doesn’t know how she finds her voice, but it doesn’t sound like herself. It’s too calm to match the anger burning within her chest.

Lonnie looks over his shoulder, unfazed. “There you are. Thought I had to call the cops when you disappeared this morning. Like mother, like son, huh?”

Joyce clenches her jaw tight at the normalcy of his tone. She glares at him, making Lonnie mockingly throw his hands up. 

“Oh, sorry. Never meant to say that. I was just worried about where you went.” Lonnie chuckles. Then he looks over her shoulder and his expression falls. Joyce dares a quick glance and sees Wayne standing awkwardly in the doorway. She cringes inwardly, motioning at the other man to leave. But Wayne doesn’t move. He just crosses his arms and stares back evenly at Lonnie.

When Joyce peers back at Lonnie, his eyes are darkened. She can hear his teeth grinding as he gets off the couch and towers over her. “Seriously? We just buried our son and you run off to-”

“What did you do to the lights?” Joyce cuts him off. Her voice is still and quiet.

Lonnie raises his eyebrows, his temper briefly quelshed with confusion. “What?”

“The lights, Lonnie. Why did you take them off? And why are you ruining the wallpaper?”

He has the audacity to sigh and shake his head as if his heart is breaking. That liar. “I threw them out.”

It feels like the world just stopped. “What?”

“Because your mind’s not right, Joyce. I can’t see you act like this, pretending that Will’s trapped in the walls-”

“Since when have you ever cared?” Frost drips out of her voice. She hopes it turns into icicles and stabs into her ex-husband’s heart.  “You never gave two shits about me when I had to bust your ass out of jail countless times and take up the night shifts because you couldn’t hold a job anymore. You never cared how hard or loud you’ve hurt me in front of Jonathan. You never, never cared about Will until you thought about hitting him too.”

“Joyce-”

“And now you show your face up, acting like the grieving husband and father so you can make everyone believe you’ve cared. But you never did. Because I bet it’s because of that sweet money the state’s going to donate to your pocket for acting like the way you are. So what gave you the fucking right to take down all of my lights, tear my wallpaper off, and act like it’s for the sake of my sanity?”

Lonnie throws his arms up, his face looming closer like he always does when they fight. “Because you’re sick, Joyce! You’re acting completely irrational and ruining this house-”

“I’m ruining the house? Is that what you care for now?!”

“Yes! Because this is where you and your son live in-”

“If you fucking dare to move back in here-”

Amidst their arguing, Joyce barely remembers Wayne. She just hopes that he had just left already, seeing no point in watching a couple’s dispute. It’ll hurt, but it would be the best for him. He doesn’t deserve being dragged into more of her messes.

Lonnie’s hand suddenly shoots towards her in a blur. Joyce instinctively flinches away, already feeling the phantom stinging of the previous slaps. 

But she doesn’t feel her head snapping to her side or taste sharp copper in her teeth. She peeks her eyes open (she doesn’t realize she had shut them) and sees Lonnie’s arm being held in the air by Wayne’s tight grip.

“If your way to end an argument is to hurt someone, then you’re better to take the loss and leave.” Wayne speaks to Lonnie’s face so softly that his usual gruff tone vanishes for a moment. Oh. Joyce realizes. That’s how his anger sounds.

Lonnie stares at him wide-eyed, a drop of sweat trailing down his cheek. His forearm whitens around Wayne’s fingers the longer they grip into the skin. Finally, Wayne leans away with a curt nod and lets him go, making Lonnie stumble back. He looks at them both before the familiar snarl of displeasure returns. 

“You’re both fucking crazy. You both deserve it together.” He spits just before he storms out, loudly slamming the front door shut. 

Trembling, Joyce glares through the still-open window as Lonnie starts up his car and promptly drives off. 

Wayne scoffs quietly, “Serves him right.”

It should be enough to let her relax and breathe again. But there’s so much of her anger boiling her veins that Joyce grabs her head and curls her fingers into her hair, pulling it harshly so that several strands get ripped out.

This should be enough. But there’s so much of her anger boiling her veins that Joyce grabs her head and curls her fingers into her hair, pulling it harshly so that several strands are ripped off.

She can hear Wayne calling her name. But she doesn’t listen or look at him. She just turns around and stomps her way down into the house. And then there’s a blast of cold air and heavy crunching of leaves under her feet. Before she knows it, Joyce yanks the shed’s door open.

The first thing she sees is a pair of shovels. She grabs them, only for both tools to be somehow tangled with each other. It makes her more mad as she struggles to separate them. But once they’re freed, they get caught against the other tools in the shed.

“You’re kidding me.” She says to nobody in particular except this stupid shed and whatever god is up in the sky who likes making her life miserable. She tries to shove her anger down, but the shovels are stuck again and they’re just banging against the shed, doing nothing but make the buzzing in her head louder and louder and she can’t think of anything other than-

“Joyce.” 

She jumps, her shoulders up to her ears. She whirls around, expecting to see Lonnie crawling back to her. But it’s only Wayne, standing just a few feet away.

She glares up at him. “What?” 

He looks wearily at her and at the shovels in her hands. “What are you doing right now?” Wayne asks, sounding too gentle like he’s trying to coax a scared animal. Thinking of that comparison makes Joyce even more mad.

“None of your damned business.��� She hisses. She turns back to what she’s trapped herself in doing and tries to free the shovels. How is it this hard to get a couple shovels out?! 

But she still senses Wayne behind her, even approaching closer. She whips her head back to him, “Leave.”

Just after she says it, the shovels she’s been holding bang against some equipment inside, creating a cascade of metallic crashes.

Her frustration explodes. She drops the handles and kicks at the wall several times hard enough that it almost surprises her it doesn’t collapse. Her hands dig back into her hair as she yells up at the sky. And because Wayne is still here for some godforsaken reason, she yells at him too. 

“Just go! You already know how goddamn sick I am! Just go and spit on me after wasting your fucking time for sitting around and waiting for your nephew-”

Wayne takes another step forward and-

He hugs her. 

Joyce stiffens at first, a second of shock overcoming her. Then she lets go of her hair just so she can pound her fists onto his chest, attempting to twist away from his embrace. Bad women like her don’t deserve hugs like this.

“What did I tell you about using others to comfort your pain, Joyce? Now I’m going to feel awful for wanting to give you a hug. You see what you’ve done? To your own mother, no else?”

Wayne doesn’t let her go. Instead, he smooths her hair down, careful at the aching patches where she’d just abused her scalp. Something about that motion makes Joyce to drop her arms down. Her breath shudders as she lets her face be buried into Wayne’s cardigan. It smells like cigarettes, old oak leaves, and flour oddly enough.

It sends a crack somewhere through her heart.

She doesn’t recognize the wretched sound coming out of her mouth. It sounds like a dying animal, too rough and guttural as if it wants to cut through her throat. Her small body wracks violently with every sob like it’s desperate to rattle her soul out to leave this earth. She wants to leave, but Wayne isn’t letting her. He keeps her arms tight around her, slightly rocking them side to side like a father does to a child. Just like how Joyce does to Will and Jonathan after a bad day and night. 

Thinking about it restarts the cycle of tears again.

After she feels her tears are spent and regains control of her breathing, Joyce taps on Wayne’s arm. He gets the message and unwraps himself from her, though he keeps a hand on her shoulder. The front of his cardigan is nearly soaked through but he doesn’t raise a complaint.

Joyce’s eyes feel swollen. There’s snot and tears running down her face, which she’s quick to wipe away. Once she’s sure she can speak without another threat of tears, she mumbles, “Sorry about that..” 

“No need to apologize. Seems you really needed that.” Wayne tells her softly. She looks up at him and there’s a small sincere quirk of his lips. Not a single ounce of malice or pity is shining out of his doe eyes, just complete reassurance and comfort. 

It almost makes Joyce cry again, but she holds it together and just sniffs her snot back in. 

Silence falls between them, but it’s not as awkward or tense as Joyce expects. It’s more comforting. Maybe breaking down in front of someone who doesn’t immediately taunt her does more wonders than she thinks.

“Do you want to explain why you were wrestling with these shovels?” Wayne asks. A flush of shame comes over Joyce and she looks down to the ground again. Crosses her arms as if it’ll prevent herself from answering.

“Joyce?”

She lets out a shaky sigh. Fuck it. Wayne’s been with her this far.

“I want to go back to the cemetery.” 

There’s a pause. She doesn’t look up as Wayne asks, “Come again?”

She sighs again. Flicks her eyes up to stare directly at Wayne. “I want to see who was that boy they buried as Will.”

Wayne furrows his brows. Then the realization comes over him. “You-”

“I know it’s stupid and very illegal.” Joyce keeps her hands to herself so they don’t flail around, takes a step away from him. There’s something wrong with her in which every time she wants to be taken seriously, another thing happens that keeps testing Wayne’s patience for her.

She continues, “But I can’t stand it. I know in my heart and soul that whoever they found in that quarry just looks like Will, but it’s not him! If it was, they would’ve allowed an open casket or let me stay with him for a bit before-” Her breath shudders again. “I just want to know what the hell is going on!”

Joyce tears her gaze away from Wayne, staring at the ground as if it’ll rip open and spit Will back to her. “If you want to throw me into jail or Pennhurst for this, then go ahead. If you’re fed up with my ‘delusions’-” she spat the word, “then leave and forget about me.”

The silence drags for a horribly long time that Joyce can see their shadows extending before her eyes. Then Wayne’s feet shuffle out of her view. She closes her eyes, shivering from the cold catching up to her.

Then there’s a little nudge on her arm along with Wayne’s gruff voice speaking, “Alright, better now than later.”

Joyce blinks her eyes open, her jaw falling open at the sight of Wayne back to her side and holding out a shovel to her. While carrying the second, no less. “W-Wha-?”

“You’re right on a couple things.” Wayne interjects her kindly. “There’s some strange stuff happening around here these past few days. It has to do with our boys going missing and we both know they’re alive somewhere. If you’re beyond certain that the kid you saw being buried isn’t Will, then nothing hurts to check.”

Joyce almost wants to laugh. She almost asks Wayne if he’s losing it. But she sees that look in his eyes, the hard determination she’s seen in herself too. It gives her a spark of hope again.

She takes the offered shovel. She has to bite the insides of her cheek to keep some hysterical giddiness from showing. Staring into Wayne’s eyes, she says, “If you’re in this with me, for what we’re about to do, then you need to also help me out if we get caught by Hopper.”

Wayne gives out an exasperated sigh, but his mouth quirks up something resembling a smirk. “Let me double check my bail money first.”

—

As they drive up into the cemetery, it’s gotten dark enough that all of the headstones look like lumps. Undead potato lumps. A morbid joke that his sister Suzanna once shared with Wayne when they were kids and has somewhat stayed in his vocabulary. Once he slipped and said it around Eddie few years ago, who had gladly adopted the phrase.

“The grave’s over there.” Joyce frowns, pointing over to a direction behind them.

“And we’re going to stop here.” Wayne says, parking the truck at the very end of the road where the oldest areas of the cemetery start embracing the woods. “Wouldn’t want to park near your boy’s grave and get caught too soon.”

Joyce makes a small ah sound. Wayne cuts the engine and headlights off and they both get out. He takes the shovels from the truck’s back, along with a crowbar and a flashlight. Joyce raises an eyebrow at the crowbar but says nothing as she takes the flashlight and the lead to their destination.

They hurry further in half-crouches, carefully weaving around the other gravestones. The groundskeeper has night shifts for a reason and lord forbid if there’s any sneaking reporters hungry for pictures.

“Here.” Joyce whispers. There’s almost no need for her to point it out with the too-new marble headstone and bouquets of flowers are placed on the recently-buried dirt.

They stand together on the side, staring down at the ground. A little adrenaline rush of I am actually doing this comes down onto Wayne. He should feel ashamed of himself. That he should have listened to his logical side of not helping a grieving woman’s delusions and now it’ll start a landslide effect of following Al’s forbidden footsteps.

But he doesn’t feel anything. A little nerves, sure. But otherwise? He’s just calm. Nothing towards himself or Joyce.

Maybe he’s like this because a part of him already wants to dig up Eddie’s grave in the future just to hold his boy close for the last time.

Or it’s just the Munson thing.

He breathes slowly, repositioning his grip of his shovel and handing the other to Joyce.

She doesn’t take it. She stares down at the still-fresh dirt with a lost expression. “But what if I’m wrong? That all this time, this is Will and everyone was right but I’ve been denying it?”

“Then you’ll cry.”

She looks up, shooting him a baffled look.

“You’ll cry, either out of relief or grief.” He continues, nudging the shovel’s handle to her. “It’s the best any of us can do. And what happens next is up to you.”

Joyce’s eyes well up again but she shuts them tight, her expression shifting to the hard determination Wayne is already familiar with. She opens her eyes and takes the shovel in her hands. Then she gives him a single nod.

Wayne nods back and plunges the shovel’s blade into the dirt.

It’s less back-breaking than he expects. Benefits of growing up south and spending years at the plant, he supposes. The soil’s still loose enough so it might’ve helped easing their efforts. But his arms and knees start to ache after one and half feet in. Joyce’s already trembling at this point, pausing to catch her breath every minute or two.

“I’m not sitting down until we get to the damn casket.” Joyce pants out before Wayne opens his mouth. He wisely keeps it shut.

By the time their shovels hit polished wood, it’s fully dark and a absolute miracle that any groundskeeper hasn’t heard them. Yet. Wayne snatches the flashlight and kneels down to sweep the soil off while Joyce collapses to her feet.

“God.” She tilts her head back, seemingly regretting the motion as it brings some dirt falling on her hair. “I’d almost prefer Mr. Turlington’s gym classes to this.”

“If this was his grave, we would’ve made him proud. Hold this.” Wayne hands the flashlight to her.

“I can barely lift my arms!” Joyce protests, but she takes the flashlight, keeping the beam aimed at the head of the casket. Wayne feels his hands around the edges, shuffling more of the tightly pressed earth away.

He stands up, reaching out for the crowbar above. He moves slowly, feeling conscious of the fact that there is a young boy’s body inside. Any more quicker and heavier movement he and Joyce make might just break the casket itself.

“Did ya get the casket sealed?” He asks.

“No, finding the right casket itself was expensive enough.” Joyce winces right after she says it, as if paying for a casket by itself is the most shameful thing in the world. She eyes at the crowbar in his hands. “Why do you ask?”

“From what I heard, unsealed caskets are easier to reopen.” Wayne kneels back down, roughly scooping out a few handfuls of one wall so there’s a small pocket of space. He looks again at Joyce, silently asking are you sure about this?

She gives him an unwavering stare that all but replies with yes, get on with it.

Wayne wedges the crowbar to the side of the lid. He silently prays that this action won’t taint his memory for eternity and then pushes down on the crowbar with all of his might.

It takes about what feels like hours before a crack resounds and the casket opens. Wayne grabs onto the newly freed lid, pushing it up until the top hits the earthy wall.

Joyce makes a choked noise, almost close to a sob. Wayne himself recoils at the sight of Will Byers’ too-pale face, eyes softly shut as if he was just sleeping.

But the smell…

Wayne sniffs the air. Continues for a moment, unsure if his senses are messing with him. With his eyes still on the boy’s face, he asks, “Do you smell anything?”

A strained chuckle comes out of Joyce. “What?”

“Do you smell anything?”

Joyce falls silent before she starts sniffing. Then again with more consideration. “..No. Just the dirt.”

Wayne manages to tear his gaze away from the boy and back to Joyce. “Doesn’t matter how much chemicals you put in a body for preservation, the smell of rot comes back as soon it’s buried.”

Realization dawns on her face. Then she carefully crawls over next to him, ducking under Wayne’s arm as he still holds the lid up. Joyce looks down at the body and slowly reaches a hand out to the face of her son. She gently cups the cheek, bringing a terrified expression upon her before it shifts into a frown of doubt.

“Do- Do bodies always feel like plastic?” She asks slowly. Wayne looks at her with shared confusion and reaches out to touch the boy’s face. However, his hand must have been too slow or too quick because it instead brushes against Joyce’s.

She gives out a too-loud startled squeal, her head bumping hard against Wayne’s chin. He falls back, hearing a small groan from Joyce. In the process, he loses his grip on the lid and barely stops it from slamming shut by kicking his leg out and holding it up halfway. The weight’s gonna bruise it for days.

“Ow, oh, Wayne!” Joyce is suddenly fretting above him, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m so sorry! You didn’t mean to startle me that bad, it’s just the nerves and-”

“I’m alright.” Wayne means it, even if his chin and leg might not. He’s had worse than beginner’s level grave-robbing. “It’s my fault I scared ya.”

Joyce’s shaking her head. “No, really, I’m sorry-”

Wayne grunts as he slowly pushes himself up. “Would ya get the lid off my leg first?”

“Oh, of course!” Joyce scampers back, groaning with effort as she pushes the lid off. Wayne pulls his leg back to him, rubbing the bone carefully. Yep, he can feel a bruise coming.

“Wayne.” Joyce’s voice is very still.

He sits up more upright. “What’s wrong?”

Joyce doesn’t answer. Her back’s toward him, the flashlight still shining inside the casket. Wayne scoots closer, peering down to see-

Will’s head turned on the side, no longer attached to his body.

It feels like Wayne’s soul is exhumed out of his body all at once. His first thought is, oh lord I just decapitated a dead kid in front of his mother. But somehow through his panic, he notices that despite the damage, there’s not a spot of blood anywhere.

Joyce reaches her hand in again and picks up something. Holds it up close to the flashlight for a closer look.

It’s a wad of cotton.

Wayne checks the head and neck of the body. Thick wads of cotton sticks out of both ends.

“I knew this wasn’t Will.” Joyce whispers, her tone devoid of anything save a hint of triumph somewhere. “None of his moles match and there wasn’t even a birthmark.”

Wayne stays silent, staring down at the body that is not Will Byers. Who that half of the town came and mourned for just hours ago. All of this for a fake body.

“Wayne?”

Joyce’s looking at him, concerned. It feels terribly juxtaposed. A grieving mother sitting atop of her son’s fake body wanting to know if he’s alright.

“Did they tell ya who found the body?”

Joyce thinks for a moment before replying, “Not anyone specific. I think Hopper said it was somebody from the state.”

Wayne swallows but his throat’s too dry. He lifts his gaze up towards the sky at last. The stars are coming out. “Chief told me that the state’s taking over Eddie’s case.”

They both become quiet for a long time. Until they both catch a faint whistling tune of the groundskeeper. Then it’s a mad careful scramble out of there.

—

Brenner studies the new dummy on the table, taking a glance at the reference photographs laid out on the desk besides McNeil, who stands on the opposite side and poorly hiding his fidgeting.

There’s nothing wrong with McNeil’s works. It’s a masterpiece, much like the previous. Anyone who never touched a human body or kept on his payroll wouldn’t notice the difference.

But Brenner always sees flaws in perfection. That’s the duty in being a scientist. Running through the tests over and over until the subjects are one hundred plus ten percent faultless.

It always leaves a bitter taste on his tongue when he skips over a mistake, even for the sake of studying. He’s being more considerate these days after the disastrous cases with Henry and Eleven.

“Is this accurate to the boy’s measurements?” He asks. McNeil stops fidgeting and straightens up with an air of confidence that should be permanent.

“Yes, sir.”

Brenner eyes the small flock of bats and devilish marionette inked on the right arm. “Is this the only tattoos he has?”

“No, sir.”

“Then where are they?”

McNeil clears his throat, almost looking away from Brenner. “It’s difficult to perfect the other designs when there’s bare references of what they exactly look like. Tattoos are heavily variable, sir.”

Brenner sighs quietly in disappointment. He’ll save this discussion of incompetence much later, preferably once Eleven returns. “Then find the exact designs and make sure they match.” He looks down at the blank intimation of Eddie Munson’s face, thinking for a moment. “And give it the impression that it’s been deceased for longer than Will Byers-”

The door suddenly opens and Agent Sterling walks in with an annoyed expression. “We have an intruder.”

Brenner frowns. “I beg your pardon?”

She gestures for him to follow and he’s lead to the screening room of their security footage. One of them shows the police chief Jim Hopper cautiously walking through the basement level, undoubtedly heading to the room with Eleven’s gate.

Brenner can’t help but chuckle. That man truly wants to know more about what they are doing.

“Should we eliminate him?” Agent Sterling asks.

He shakes his head, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No. Just tranquilize him and send him back home. Place our listening device somewhere in his residence as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @hbyrde36 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringornithopher @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

[sydsaint]

Back to some Solo content 💜

Summary: The reader begins her first day as Romans' new assistant.

"Now I don't want you to feel nervous, okay?" Paul walks at your side through the backstage area. "Roman and I have talked extensively, and we agree that you're the best for the job." He assures you. 

"I'm fine, Paul." You smile at him. "Honestly, you act like he's a god or something." 

Paul narrows his eyes at your confidence, knowing that it's risky. But he does nothing to stop your progress down the hall. Roman and Paul went through a stack of resumes knee high before Paul recommended you for this new assistant job. He had high hopes that your spunky attitude and resilience would prove to be a good thing. Figuring that it meant you wouldn't fold under the pressure of being in Roman's inner circle. But your overconfidence might just be your downfall. 

"Just...let me do the talking when we get there. Okay?" Paul asks you. 

You nod, not wanting to give him a heart attack on your first day on the job. Paul's always been there to give you tips and pointers in your career. And now he's getting you this job with the wrestling words biggest star. 

You and Paul arrive to the Bloodline's locker room and Paul heads in first. You follow silently after him and shut the door behind you. The Uso twins, Solo, and Roman all turn their heads at the sound of the door shutting. 

"My Tribal Chief!" Paul makes a B-line for Roman. "How are you today? I've brought your new assistant with me. Y/N, come over here and introduce yourself." He beckons you over to his side. 

"Right." You nod and head over to Paul's side. "Roman, it's a pleasure to be working with you." You hold your head high and offer your hand for a handshake. 

Roman stares you down, sizing you up. But you don't blink under his gaze. "For me." He corrects you. 

"I'm sorry?" You falter upon hearing his reply. 

"You work for me. Not with me." Roman clarifies. "Don't forget that." 

"Oh." You nod. "Right. It's a pleasure to be working for  you my Tribal Chief." You correct yourself. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jimmy and Jey whispering with one another about you. Solo is standing next to them, his arms crossed over his chest. The younger brother wears a scowl on his face, but thankfully it doesn't seem to be directed at you. 

Paul gives you a small nudge and you instinctively step out of the way. Roman strides past you with his head held high and an aura of superiority about him. You fall silently into place at his side with Paul, and everyone files out of the locker room. 

"Umm, Paul." You whisper to Heyman as everyone exits the locker room. "Where are we going?" You ask him. 

"We go where Roman goes," Paul whispers back. "Just follow along and look important for the camera." He adds. 

You nod and fall back into silence. Roman continues until eventually he's headed out to the ring. You follow Paul down the ramp and out to the ring. Roman climbs the stairs and slips into the ring, followed by Paul and then the twins. You hang back and stare at the ring ropes at the top of the stairs. The length of your dress makes it impossible to get past the ropes without inadvertently flashing someone. 

Paul locks eyes with you from Roman's side when he realizes that you aren't at his side anymore. You stare back at him, unsure of what you should do now. Thankfully, a large hand sets on the back of your shoulder. You glance behind you and find Solo standing just behind you. 

"Here, let me." Sikoa slips past you and parts the ring ropes for you. 

"Thanks." You give him a thankful nod and get into the ring without incident. 

Now in the ring, you head straight for Paul without another word. Then, with everyone now in the ring, Roman starts his speech. 

The speech lasts around 5 minutes before Cody Rhodes interrupts. You watch Cody come down the ramp, unsure of what you should do now. You turn to ask Paul what you should be doing but find him gone when you turn. 

"Crap." You glance around for Paul and spot him already outside of the ring. "Paul!" You grumble to yourself. 

"You might want to invest in some more practical clothes next time." Solo appears at your side again to the rescue. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, kicking yourself for not thinking about that earlier. "Right, I'll keep that in mind." You nod. "So much for wanting to make a good impression on my first day, right?" You laugh at yourself. 

"You're doing just fine," Solo replies and parts the ring ropes for you again. 

You step out onto the ring apron and Solo joins you. He hops down to the floor with ease then turns and helps you down. "Thanks." You thank him again. 

Solo nods and heads back into the ring to help Roman and his brothers. Paul hurries over to your side and begins berating you. 

"Y/N! You need to pay more attention!" Paul warns you. "Roman won't tolerate that type of incompetence." 

"Right, sorry." You nod. 

Roman, the twins, and Solo handle business with Cody. Paul rushes you back over to their side and everyone heads backstage again. Roman stops when everyone gets backstage and turns to you. "Y/N." Roman beckons you to his side. 

"Yes, my Tribal Chief?" You hurry over to his side. "What can I do for you?" You ask him. 

"I want you to find that stooge Adam Pearce and ask him why he thinks it's okay to let Cody Rhodes run wild on my show?" Roman informs you. 

You nod and take a small step back from Roman's booming voice. He gazes down at you and waits for you to leave. But you remain in place. Paul hasn't shown you around the backstage area yet. So you've got nowhere to go. 

It takes a moment, but Roman seems to get the hint. "Let me guess, Paul hasn't bothered to show you around yet?" He asks you before glaring at Paul over your shoulder. You nod and Roman lets out a heavy sigh. "Solo!" He points a finger at Sikoa. "Show Y/N here where everything is backstage. And make sure she shows some backbone with Pearce. I don't need anyone weak working for me. I've already got Paul for that." 

"I'll handle it." Solo nods. 

You walk over to Solo's side and the two of you walk off. As you round the corner you can vaguely hear Roman scolding Paul for not bothering to show you around before your first day. 

"Don't worry about that," Solo speaks up when he notices the look on your face. 

"You sure?" You joke. "He sounds kind of pissed off. Maybe he doesn't like me as much as Pual is letting on." You tell yourself. 

Solo lets out a small chuckle, which surprises you. You glance at him and he flashes a small genuine smile at you. "He likes you, trust me." He assures you. "If he didn't then you wouldn't have made it past the locker room door." 

"Really?" You reply. "Well, that's a relief then I guess." You laugh to yourself. "What about your brothers?" 

"They like you too," Solo replies. "So do I." He adds. 

You stop walking and turn to face your impromptu tour guide. "I kind of figured." You giggle. "You know, Paul told me that you're supposed to be the stoic unfeeling one. You know, give me the cold shoulder and act uninterested?" 

"Only with the people that I don't like," Solo replies. "And like I said, I like you." He reminds you. 

"Well, maybe I like you too." You giggle. "This version of you anyways. So I guess that I'm lucky I'll be spending a lot of time with you in the future." You flash a cheeky grin at him. 

Solo chuckles and shakes his head. "Alright, come on spunky." He teases you. "Let's finish the tour so I can see you give 'ol Pearce a piece of your mind." 

[enderwalking]

Traffic/Life Series Scored like MCC

In honor of the upcoming fourth series, and for the Trafficblr Throwback, I've decided to repost these score tables I did, quantifying each player's performance in each of the Minecraft death games! Here are the Official (as determined by only me) rankings across each series:

The scoring was based loosely on the method used for Survival Games in MCC, with points awarded for survival, kills, and overall placement. Further details below the cut (warning, it gets LONG).

In Third Life, players are awarded points each time someone dies and they survive: 5 points if they survive on green, 4 for yellow, and 3 for red. Staying green for longer thus awards more points than staying red for the same amount of time. In cases where players did not participate in a session (i.e. BDubs in session 6, BigB and Joel in session 7), they don't get the survival points for deaths that occurred during that session, since they technically weren't around to outlive people during that time.

Each kill is also awarded 30 points. For my purposes, unintentional deaths that could be directly attributed to a player (i.e. Grian's creeper prank, as well as deaths to Tango's minigame) still counted towards that player's kill points.

Lastly, you get bonus points based on your final placement: survival bonuses from 1st to 14th go 200 points, 180, 165, 150, 135, 120, 105, 95, 85, 75, 65, 55, 45, and 35. Placing first obviously gives you the greatest edge, and placing in the top 50% also gives you a larger bonus.

For Double Life, I used basically the same scoring system as described above. I decided to treat each player's death as individual rather than grouping soulmates together, just since that felt more fair. I also decided that kills were individual; so for instance, Grian's stalactite only hit Ren, so he only gets one kill rather than two. However, since that halved the number of kills available overall, I compromised by having kills be worth twice as many points.

For Last Life, I knew going in that I definitely wouldn't be able to weigh survival points the same way, so I just went with the easiest alternative option in that everyone gets 4 points each time someone dies and they survive, regardless of how many lives they have at the time. Survival bonuses were pretty much the same, but got a bit lower as they went further down. Also, players got 30 points each time they gained a life. For this purpose, things like the Southlands passing a life around in a circle don't count; the life has to at least stick for a little while. I figured, since survival is the goal, gaining lives or getting people to give you their lives should be rewarded. Kills are still 30 points, and there were a LOT of them this time around due to the higher than average number of lives to spare, which definitely pushed scores higher across the board. And hey, since he managed One (1) kill, it means that Jimmy wasn't last! Also, shoutout to Joel Smallishbeans for managing to be the only non-winner to rank first in a series through the power of incredible violence!

[stormyoceans]

hey girl write down your top 7 (this is nice number😋) of js's fav photo shoots, images

THIS IS SUCH A GREAT QUESTION AND 7 IS INDEED A VERY NICE NUMBER BUT IN THIS PARTICULAR CASE IT MIGHT BE A WAY TOO SMALL ONE LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK ONLY 7 PICTURES FROM JIMMYSEA PHOTOSHOOTS WHEN WE GOT SO MANY JUST THESE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS ✋😭

i mean of course im still gonna try to do it, but know im throwing up all the blood in my body every step of the way and that if you ask me this question again in a couple of weeks the answer might be different ;;;;;;;

ANYWAY HERE GOES NOTHING!!!!!!!!

1. the chemistry in front of this fish tank is astronomical from LEMON Magazine. sorry idk what else to say except that they're literally just looking at each other and yet every time i so much as barely glance at it i still find myself in a dead faint in front of my screen drowning in the sheer incomprehensible levels of magnetism electricity tension vibes oozing from this one (1) single still image. like i know maybe it's weird to put it in first place since it only has their faces and nothing else but it really makes feel in dire need of a mental health crisis intervention team THIS IS WHAT THE WALLS OF MY PADDED ROOM LOOK LIKE

2. forehead touch from Starry Magazine. WHAT CAN I SAY IM NOT IMMUNE TO FOREHEAD TOUCHES. they're giving such effervescent 'we are so deeply intertwined and enthralled by each other that everything else just falls away' vibes that i can even look past the school boys attire this picture is just THAT beautiful. also the tenderness!!!!!!!! the sunflower!!!!!!!! I AM BUT A WEAK WOMAN

3. cuntitude Xtreme100 from ViVi men. invented maximizing their joint slay and serving so much coquettecore cuntism it makes me act deeply unwise. idek what's the worst (read: best) part of it all if jimmy's bold jewelries or sea's outfit that exposes the mole on his chest for the world to see or how fluffy their hair look or the way jimmy is resting his arms on sea's shoulder while sea's head is turned just enough to brush against jimmy's all i know is that whoever styled them for this shoot deserves a raise and a kiss on the mouth.

4. interconnectedness from PRAEW Magazine. look me in the eyes and tell me this doesn't belong in the louvre with a little tag on display under it that shows this exact title like with all due respect to my man leonardo but the mona lisa ain't shit compared to this picture. it should be studied in art classes all around the world for its lines and composition and contemporary figuration and how the intertwinement of the bodies is a metaphor for the mingling of souls throughout lifetimes. OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

5. whole face economy in one image from Mint Magazine. never in the history of the whole entire world have two people looked more stunning like the visual excellence displayed here never fails to propel me into an entire different reality. the other reason i love this one so much is that this is their usual pose but for once sea is the one holding jimmy and that truly makes me feel some type of way, the photographer really was on some galaxy brain shit for this one.

6. sea's oral fixation from ViVi men. at first i didn't want to put two pictures from the same shoot on the list just to give more variety but im currently too rabid about this one to leave it out. im not sure what compelled sea to put one of the strings from jimmy's hoodie in his mouth but that sure was. A CHOICE. i also love jimmy's smile and the more casual clothes and sea's silly goose vibes and how warm and huggable and comfort shaped they look.

7. high fantasy concept from LEMON Magazine. once again i didn't want to put two pictures from the same shoot but i think this ones deserves a place on here even just for how original it is like THE VISION THE TASTE THE FLAVOUR THE STYLE THE INSPIRATION THE QUALITY THE VIBES CHINESE MAGAZINES TRULY ARE ON SUCH A COMPLETE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF CREATIVITY GMMTV WISHES IT COULD COME UP WITH SUCH INCREDIBLE OUT OF THIS WORLD IDEAS.

[gahtheone]

My Top 5 emo bands!

Against all odds, emo is still a thing, in a kind of nostalgic way, but a thing nonetheless! Let's get a thing straight first: emo is not the same as pop punk. While bands like All Time Low and Yellowcard fall into the spectrum, others like Blink-182 do not (unless we count their 2003 self-titled album, especially Here's Your Letter which even has traces of post hardcore in it). Anyway, I was bored and decided to have my very own Buzzfeed Meets Watchmojo moment. No hate, please and thank you (also, I'm tagging the phandom because I really want to know their opinion).

Here goes nothing:

5. My Chemical Romance

I'm respecting their dislike of the emo label by placing them at the bottom, but asserting my authority as their fan by putting them on the list anyway. Besides, there's a difference between emo as a genre and emo as a subculture. Bullets and Three Cheers? They fall into the genre. I won't say anything about the looks, though, they speak for themselves. Their evolution from post hardcore to pop punk to their own style in later albums has made them icons, not to mention their masterpiece The Black Parade (2006). If I had to pick one song, I'd pick Demolition Lovers.

4. Thursday

Criminally underrated. Blending perfect melodic verses, screamo and powerful riffs, they've made a name for themselves in the post hardcore scene. Their sense of rhythm is something that has set them apart from others, as well as them not shying away from controversial topics (like M. Shepard being my very own LGBTQ+ anthem, representing their disgust at the awful crime that inspired the song). Also, as trivia, vocalist Geoff Rickly produced MCR's first album and even provided backing vocals on This Is The Best Day Ever! (Gerard Way would do the same on Jet Black New Year the same year). Anyway, melodic verses, screamo and riffs, here's my favourite song: Concealer!

3. Sunny Day Real Estate

They simply belong on this list, that's how big their influence on emo has been. Pioneers of the genre, their music, particularly their debut Diary (1994), inspired many bands that followed, becoming an example of how the emo genre should sound and feel: tough, yet sensitive. (Also, see some familiar faces? Hint: after their first break-up, they went to be a part of the Foo Fighters first lineup!). The drums and bass (hint, hint!) on each song went steady but firm, while the guitars were in charge of the melody, and the result was something that took you to Heaven, all the way down to Hell and back to Earth. Take for example one of their best known songs: In Circles.

2. Texas Is The Reason

Few bands can say they made it after just one album and an EP, and that's exactly what this band did. Guitarist Norman Brannon felt that way after the last show of their tour saw the crowd singing their songs, something big for a foreign underground band like they were during the 90s. Their sound was even more expanding, including indie rock into it, creating something unique and lasting, like their only album's opener Johnny On The Spot.

1. Jimmy Eat World

Yes, everybody has heard The Middle and Pain, but this band is so much more than those singles, and I will die on that hill. An example of resilience and musicianship, they had an evolution from the skate punk (their ignored debut album) that was fashionable at the time, to post hardcore (the amazing Static Prevails) to a rock sound that can only be defined as true emo. Fittingly, they have released what is, in my opinion, the greatest emo album of all time: Clarity (1999), unfairly overlooked by its contemporary critics, and now getting justice by gathering a cult following. Don't believe me? I give you Just Watch The Fireworks.

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: Lost Lulluby

A little short story that popped into my head recently on my way to work. I haven't written anything for AU Scarlet in a long while, so I took this as a chance to dust off the cobwebs for a bit. Give it a read.

Story under the cut

“There…I think I got it working again.” Ceara smiled slightly as she pressed the activation switch on the energy monitor.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Shikijo asked looking up from the holoscreen in front of him.

“Are you questioning me?” Ceara glanced over her shoulder at the asura.

“Everything has been on point so far.” Joujou interjected.

“I know. But we’ve been chasing this Antonio the Dread all over Ascalon for the past 5 days.” He replied.

Ceara snickered. “The Dread” she snarked whimsically. “That makes me laugh.  I’m Antonio the Dread. The famous pirate that claims to have sunk a hundred risen warships during the war against Zhaitan. Sounds almost as bad as Jimmy the Thumb.”

“Jimmy the Thumb?” Joujou asked, somewhat inquisitively.

“Yeah. Jimmy the Thumb. A member of the Aetherblades that cut a thumb off everyone he killed. Had them hanging around his neck on a chain as a necklace.”

“Oh…he sounds…interesting…” Joujou replied.

“He wasn’t really…especially after I shot him.” Shikijo snickered at the comment. Ceara smiled at the laughter as she held up the energy monitor for a moment. She sighed lightly as she looked out over the barren savannah. Turning towards the pair, she looked over the charr tank she had purloined from Baro Seigebreaker, an iron worker of the Iron Legion, known for his crafting of heavy battle machinery. She smiled as she ran her hand over the steel armor plating of the war machine. A four wheeled high-speed vehicle designed for travel over the large swaths of flat lands across Ascalon.

“An impressive machine.” She whispered to herself as she looked at the barrel of the cannon mounted on top.

“I want to say I cannot believe you somehow stole this tank.” Shikijo remarked. “But then I remember who I’m here with.”

“I did not steal it. I borrowed it. Indefinitely.” Ceara replied.  

“Uh-huh.” Shikijo looked at Joujou, who was thoughtfully looking at a diagram on a separate holoscreen.

“He’s approaching.” Ceara remarked looking at the energy monitor. She looked to the north, placing her goggles over her eyes. “There. In the distance.” The asura stood, looking in the same direction. They could make out an object just above the horizon.

Ceara set her goggles back on top of her head. “Get in. It’s time.” Joujou popped open the access hatch and climbed inside the tank. Shikijo quickly followed behind her. They took their places in the forward seats of the machine, their feet barely reaching the floor.

“At least the seats are big and comfy.” Shikijo commented clicking the safety harness in place.

“Well, it was built with charr in mind.” Joujou replied.

Ceara climbed inside, setting herself in the driver’s seat.

“Get this thing fired up. Let’s go!” Shikijo and Joujou quickly went through the startup process of the tank. The engine fired up with a loud roar causing the whole machine to start vibrating.

“Come on, come on!” Ceaa spouted impatiently as she watched a pressure gauge slowly climb. A green indicator light illuminated when the gauge reached operating pressure.

“Ok! We’re moving!” She engaged the throttle, and with a roar of the engine, the tank started moving forward, quickly accelerating

—-

His lips curled into a sly smile, Captain Antonio the Dread, a tall lanky man with a dark complexion, thought about the deal that lay before him as he stroked his thin beard.

“A power core. Not just any power core. But a power core from Scarlet Briar’s giant puppet machine. I’m gonna be filthy rich.” He thought to himself as he stared out over the horizon. According to his calculations they should arrive by the edge of the Crystal Desert by nightfall.

“The wind is with us, Captain. We may make the desert earlier than planned.” Antonio cut his eyes slightly over his shoulder at his first mate, a heavy set man that went by the name of Saber Pete.

Antonio nodded slightly. “The cargo is secure?” he asked sternly.

“Indeed, Captain.”

“Good. I’d hate for anything to happen to it.”

“That thing is really worth all this effort, Captain? I mean, Scarlet Briar’s tech is kind of dated now with what we’ve seen coming out of Cantha.” Pete asked.

“Scarlet’s tech was quite ingenious for what she was able to do. She was able to design and have built a gigantic battle platform. Cantha doesn’t even have airships. Scarlet was able to produce tech that allowed something that enormous to defy gravity. And that power core holds some of that tech. Tech some people with deep pockets will pay handsomely for.” Explained the Captain.

Pete nodded. “I gotcha. So there is probably more of her tech out there somewhere.”

“Of course. And if we come across more, I’m sure our buyer would be even more interested in procuring it.” 

Antonio turned his attention back to the horizon in front of the airship. Within moments, a slight plume of smoke in the distance caught his attention.

“What do we have here?” he murmured to himself. He extended his spyglass, peering through at the distance could. Barely visible even magnified was a piece of char machinery, barreling at high speed across the savannah.

“What do you make of this?” he handed the the instrument to Pete. The first mate looked it and gasped.

“What is it?” Antonia commanded.

“It’s…it’s Scarlet Briar, Captain.”

“What!?” Antonio snatched the spyglass from Pete and again, peered through it. His jaw fell open as he saw the notorious sylvari, standing through the hatch of the tank, peering back at him through her own telescopic device.

“Impossible!” He snarled, shoving the spyglass against Pete’s chest. “Ready the cannons! We’re gonna make the weed regret coming after us!”

—

“Well, they know we’re coming. I’m sure he’s getting the cannons ready to fire at us as soon as we get close.” Ceara remarked as she sat back in the seat, securing the hatch above her.

“That ship has about 8 cannons on each side. How in Tyria are we going to avoid a barrage like that!?” Shikijo raised his concern.

“Have you ever tried to shoot a fly with a gun?” Ceara asked as she watched the airship through the viewport.

“No, of course not.” He replied.

“It’s fairly improbable, but not impossible. And that’s the tactics we’re gonna use to get close enough to force him to land.”

Shikijo looked at Joujou, who was returning his glance. They both breathed in deep, as they both returned to manning the controls of the tank. Ceara looked down at them, smiling wistfully.

---

“Cannons ready to fire at your command, Captain!” Saber Pete shouted from the deck below.

“Fire as soon as that machine is in range.” Antonio ordered.

“Yes sir!”

The captain watched as the trail of dust got closer and closer. “Your luck runs out today, Scarlet Briar.” He whispered to himself.

---

“We’re just about in range of those cannons!” Joujou shouted over the roar of the engine.

“I see that. When I tell you, go full stop on the brakes.” Ceara replied.

“What? You can’t be serious?” Shikijo asked confused.

“Trust me!” Ceara smiled slyly as she armed the cannon.

---

“Tank is in range!” Pete yelled to the captain.

“Fire everything!” Antonio barked the order. Twelve cannons all let lose a barrage of firepower in unison. Antonio smiled as the ground erupted in a cloud of dirt and debris in the distance.

---

“Brake!” Ceara shouted. The asura hit the pedals as hard as they could, causing everything not secure to fly to the front of the compartment. “Brace for impact!” Ceara shouted as the ground in front of the tank exploded in a deafening roar. Ceara looked through the viewfinder of the tank, focusing on the anti gravity unit of on the rear of the ship the best she could through the flying debris.

---

Antonio chuckled to himself. “So much for that sylvari.”  He murmured. “Full speed ah—” a large explosion rocked the ship.

“Captain! We’ve taken a hit in the engine room!” a crew member shouted. Antonio looked out towards the direction of the shelling only to see another to see the small tank fire another shot, hitting the ship in front of the engines. The blast sent a shockwave through the hull sending crew members flying.

“Get the cannons reloaded!” Antonio shouted picking himself up from the floor. He noticed everything starting to slowly slide to one side of the ship.

“We’re falling, Captain!”

“Regain control! Keep this thing in the air!”

---

Ceara laughed to herself as she watched the airship start to list to one side as it slowly started to descend.

“Well, you got it out of the sky. Aren’t you concerned the power core will be destroyed in the crash?” Joujou asked.

“Not at all. The casing it’s in was built out of an alloy used in some of your city construction.” Ceara smirked. “Let’s get moving.”

---

Antonio feverishly worked at the controls of the crippled airship. A high pitched whine filled the air as the ship started to right itself. He looked out the side windows to see the tank quickly approaching.

“Ready the cannons! Fire! Fire at will!”

“The cannons are all on one side of the ship, Captain!” Pete yelled. Antonio glanced at him before running below deck. Sure enough, the list of the ship had cause all the cannons on port side to come loose from their moorings and slide to the starboard side.

“Blast!” he growled. “Get them back into position!”

---

“Seems they got the ship upright.” Joujou stated, looking through the forward viewport.

“Seems so…but I’m sure the stabilizer is haven’t a devil of time keeping it that way.” Ceara chuckled to herself. “All those cannons and cannonballs sliding to the far side of the hull.”

“Throws the balance of the ship out of whack. Plus, there’s no cannons on this side now. Genius!” Shikijo mused.

“I know.” Ceara snarked.

---

“Get this ship moving!” Antonio barked. The engines of the airship whined from trying to keep the ship stable as it slowly started moving forward again.

“Captain, I don’t think we’re gonna make it! The engines severely damaged!”

Antonia grabbed the controls. “Full throttle! Now!”

“It’s starting to move.” Shikijo stated. If it gets airborne, are we going to be able to bring it down?”

---

Ceara scanned the terrain in front of her, a smile growing on her face. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh no…” Shikijo murmured.

“Tell me…do you believe a tank can fly?” Ceara laughed at the prospect of what she was about to do.

“What!?” the asura asked in unison. Ceara pushed the throttle all the way forward. The engine of the tank roared with power as it gained more speed.

“What…what are you doing!?” Shikijo shouted over the combined noise of the engine and the rattling of everything in the compartment.

Ceara steered the tank into the direction of a raised outcropping.

“YYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!” she screamed as the tank reached the incline.

---

Antonio watched in disbelief at what he was seeing. “She truly is crazy.” He muttered.

The tank shot off the outcropping, launching itself towards the cockpit of the airship.

“We’re gonna die!” the asura shouted in unison as the grabbed each other tightly squeezing their eyes shut.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Ceara laughed as the tank crashed through the glass and steel hull of the ship, coming to an abrupt stop.

Time seemed to stand still for an instant as Joujou and Shikijo slowly opened their eyes.

“Are we…are we dead?” he asked.

“No…no.” Joujou said quietly.

“Of course we aren’t.” Ceara spoke up looking through the viewport. Hearing a low groan, the asura looked through the tiny window in front of them. They could see Captain Atonio the Dread pinned between the tank and part of the hull.

“Captain Antonio…the…Dread…” Ceara snickered over the loudspeaker. “You have something that belongs to me.”

“It’s…It’s not…here…” He squirmed trying to get himself free.

“Oh…it isn’t?” She followed. Ceara pressed opened a panel on her gauntlet and pulled up a holoprojection. A small blip showed in the cargo hold.

“It’s on another ship…heading to Elona as we speak.” Antonio sputtered.

“Is that so? Well, then…I guess it won’t matter if I blast your powder keg reserves then and blow you and your ship into the Mists.”

“What!?” Shikijo yelped, turning to Ceara. She motioned at him to keep quiet.

“And tell your crew to stand down. This is a war machine after all, and it does have anti-personnel weaponry. Which would create a very bloody mess if I had to deploy it.”

“It does?” Shikijo whispered. Joujou slapped her hand over his mouth and Ceara glared at him agitatedly.

“Stay…stay back.” Antonio ordered his crew. “If you want it, sylvari…you will have to come out of your little play toy for it.”

“Well, that’s not happening. How about one of your little friends-“ Ceara was cut off as the hull of the ship groaned causing the tank to slowly start to slide out of the hole.

Antonio slipped free of his predicament, steadying his footing. “Well, Briar. It seems your toy is causing the ship to list. All we’ll have to do is wait until you just fall-“

The shot from the tank cannon was the last thing Antonio heard. The exploding powder magazine sent the tank careening into a freefall to the ground below.

Shikijo and Joujou screamed as tank crashed into the rearend first into the ground, tettering for a moment before falling on its wheels.

Joujou awoke, her head pounding. She looked over at Shikijo who was slumped forward in his seat.

“Shiki, wake up. Wake up.” She shook his shoulder.

“Huh? What?” he sputtered, a trickle of blood ran down his face. “What happened?” He quietly asked. They both turned to see the access hatch to the tank open and Ceara missing. They slowly climbed out of the tank, smoke from the crashed airship filling the sky. Ceara was sitting on a boulder nearby.

“Scarlet?” Joujou asked as they slowly approached. As they got near, they could hear Ceara humming what sounded like a lullaby to herself. They found her holding an ornate box of asuran design in her hands.

Ceara stared at the box, seemingly oblivious to the pair in front of her. Setting the box in her lap, she removed one of her gauntlets. With her index finger, she traced a symbol on the side of the box, which lit when she finished. She then pressed a button that released the top panel. Opening it, the box started playing the same lullaby she had been humming.

“A music box?” Shikijo asked. “We almost died for a music box? I thought it was a power core.” A slight agitation in his voice. Joujou motioned for him to be silent.

A tear slowly rolled down Ceara’s cheek. “I made this…when I was…when…darker times clouded my mind.” She spoke softly. “Sometimes it would help to keep me grounded when the voice would overwhelm me.” She paused a moment, listening to the music. “It’s a human song, sung to their young. Cian learned it and would sing it from time to time when we would leave the Grove to go exploring in our early years.” The song came to a close and Ceara slowly closed the lid.

“I have what I came for. I know it wasn’t something special for you to lose yourselves over.” She said as she slid her hand back into her gauntlet.

“But it is special.” Joujou replied. Ceara glanced at her, slightly nodding her head. “If you need our help again…”

“I know where to find you.” Ceara finished. She activated her waypoint device and disappeared.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here before Siegebreaker comes looking for his tank.” Shikijo stated. Joujou nodded in agreement as they both waypointed back to Rata Sum.

[ltwharfy]

"Bob's Burgers" Season 7 Episode Ranking Rewatch (Long Post)

So, I've been rewatching "Bob's Burgers" from the beginning and ranking the episodes using the spreadsheet that @babsvibes created! If you want to know why I'm doing this or how I view the 1-5 rating scale, you can check out my Season 1 post! If you want to check out any of the other seasons, I've been using the "bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch" tag for all of them.

Now, on to Season 7:

Average (Mean) Score: 4.64

Mode (Most Common) Ranking: 5

Ranking Breakdown: 15 5s 6 4s 1 3

Season as whole thoughts:

Our new first place season (and I think it's kind of unlikely to be topped!) Unlike with Season 4, where I was kind of surprised by how high its average scored ended up being, Season 7 is one that I knew going in had several of my favorite episodes. I remember several years ago, the AV Club had a Q and A asking "What's the strongest 3 episode run of a TV show"? My immediate thought when seeing that : "Bob's Burgers" when they did "Ex Mach Tina" followed by "Bob Actually" followed by "There's No Business Like Mr. Business Business".

"Bob Actually" is a strongest contender for my favorite episode, and when I think of the reasons why (which do, in fact, go beyond "Roudise Kiss!!!!!!!"), I think they kind of encapsulate the strengths of this season. I think "Bob Actually" is a perfect combination of being really funny (everything Flips Whitefudge says; Ms. LaBonz stealing from the school; heck, even Mr. Blevins gets a funny line!), being really creative (giving each of the Belchers their own storylines rather than just an A and B story), and being emotionally satisfying (obviously, this kind of depends on how fond you are of Tinimmy and Roudise and Boblin.)

And I feel like a lot of the episodes of this season have that perfect combination of humor, emotion, and creativity- "Large Brother, Where Fart Thou?" sees the hilarity of Bob and Linda getting high with their account, the innovation of Tina having a storyline where she doesn't interact with any of the other Belchers, and the emotion of Gene being a protective big brother to Louise. "Last Gingerbread House on the Left" features a gunfight at a gingerbread house competition (hilarious!), that uses beautiful slow motion and closeups (creative!), and results in Bob actually winning something for once and giving a great Christmas present to his kids- and Mr. Fischoeder and his weird rich friends (awwwww!)

Obviously, I think the show was great in its previous seasons, but in my book Season 7 is just amazing- a show at the top of its game and not content to rest on its laurels!

Some thoughts on specific episodes (and feel free to ask if you want my thoughts on an episode I didn't comment on):

"Flu-ouise": I loved learning a little bit more about Kuchi Kopi and Louise's other toys! I will always crack up when Teddy says "Mumaluma!" One of my favorite end credits sequences- I love Louise's exuberant dancing and the song- "but the sickness made you better, and I'm glad you didn't diiiiiiiiie!"

"Teen-a Witch": I hope before the show ends we get to see Mr. Ambrose riding his bike to school with a little dog in the front basket.

"The Quirkducers": Along with "The Hormone-iums" this was the other episode that convinced me I should do a rewatch before doing the spreadsheet. One of the cable channels was doing a marathon of the Thanksgiving episodes and I remember feeling kind of meh when this came up- I knew it wasn't one of my favorites. Or I THOUGHT I knew! This is a wonderful episode! There is a good chance I will tear up when Tina starts singing about how "it takes guts to be yourself!" And the Grandpa Potato is hilarious! And Peter Pescadero's women's issues club song is further proof that he is THE great underrated character of the show.

"Ex Mach Tina": So, we can all just agree that Jimmy Jr's musoems are some of the funniest writing on the show, right? And that "Watching You From a Distant Place" is one of the best songs? The way all three of the plots- Tina and J-Ju and the robot, Louise and Gene and Yuli and the robot, and Bob and the banjo- come together at the end is brilliant and beautiful! Tammy and Joceyln's "A.I"-"as if" conversation, followed by Zeke's "you guys are making me feel smart" is possibly my favorite moment for those characters. This episode is really pretty perfect.

"Bob Actually": So, you may not know this about me, because I tend to keep this close to my chest but I'm actually a pretty big fan of Louise and Rudy's relationship. Shocking, right? And I've basically been shipping them since the end of "Carpe Museum", a fact which I have never disclosed before (certainly not in my Season 3 rewatch post). And then they have a Valentine's Day story that ends with them kissing, and I really like that episode. Okay, I probably dropped a lot of surprising info on y'all there so I understand if you need to take a break before reading the rest of this.

"There's No Business Like Mr. Business Business": John Oliver! Gene and Tina eating cat food! Bob training a cat! Bob accepting Gayle for who she is! Mr. Business getting ALMOST as much screentime as he deserves! This is an amazing episode, and I stand by my 2019 opinion that this the two previous episodes are the best 3 episodes run in TV history (okay, well, one of them anyway. I haven't watched all the TV shows! And how would I even know how good their episodes are if Babs doesn't make a spreadsheet for them?!)

"A Few 'Gurt Men": I was surprised how much I enjoyed this one! I'm a lawyer, and a pretty burnt out one at that, so I tend to not enjoy legal shows or movies any more- even comedy ones. But my love of the Wagstaff students and staff trumped by legal burnout and I really enjoyed this episode! Also, I love the episodes that show that Louise and Mr. Frond really respect and care for each other. (That said, I absolutely am not one of those people who sees this episode and thinks Louise will grow up to be a lawyer! She wouldn't last more than a semester at law school. No matter how mature she gets, Louise will never suffer fools gladly, and that's a kind of necessary trait to get through law school- let alone be a practicing lawyer.)

"Like Gene for Chocolate": Meh. Even Michael Jordan didn't make all his shots.

"Aquaticism": I think this is one of the most romantic episodes of "Bob's Burgers"- even more romantic than some of the Valentine's Day episodes. I may love Boblin and Roudise, but honestly it's Roger and Judy that are my real relationship goals at the present moment. Just some kind of sweet, kind of awkward middle aged people finding love...or, at least, a date Awwww. (Also, to again point out the combination of emotion and humor in this season: this is also an episode where the kids convince an aquarium owner to commit tax fraud by creating a religion and it results in an IRS agent jumping in a jellyfish tank...)

"Ain't Miss Debatin'": I love Henry Haber. I wrote a fic about him named after a line of dialogue from this episode. The scene where he goes to pick up Tina for their date and makes small talk with Bob, Gene, and Louise is one of my all-time favorites. Also, the introduction of Duncan, a character who basically makes me laugh with every single line. "Rebuttal? Where I'm from we call it buttle-rubbies."

"The Laser-inth": Maybe the sleeper hit of this season. I remember thinking it was okay going in, but it just really moved me this time around. Bob is just such a great Dad in this episode! It might be my favorite Bob and Gene episode. And the subplot is great too! I love Louise and Gretchen's dynamic: "Pretend you're a little girl." "Pssh. I'll try."

"Mom, Lies, and Videotape": So, I feel like I may have been even more obnoxiously Roudise shippy than usual in this post given that this is the season of "Bob Actually", so if that's bothered any of you, I am sorry, and I advise you skip this comment. Okay, so, this is the first speaking appearance by Chloe or Rudy since "Bob Actually". And Louise makes up a story where they are in a class play that culminates in: 1. Her shooting Chloe with a rubber band and 2. Rudy holding her tenderly in his arms in front of everyone in the auditorium (yeah, I know she's playing his mom and she's dying BUT STILL!) She could've come up with any idea and put any of her classmates in any of the roles, and that's the story she tells...

"Paraders of the Lost Float": Some episodes I know how I am going to rate them pretty early on, others I don't really know til the end. This episode just has a such a beautiful feelgood ending that it moved it from a 4 to a 5. Really, I think it's probably one of the most feelgood endings of any episode of the show. It just makes me so happy! "Hot pants rain dance! Da-da doo-doo rain, I don't know the words!"

Random thoughts (stuff that doesn't affect the ratings):

-So I kind of stopped mentioning first appearances by characters after either Rudy in Season 3 or Felix in Season 4, but it's kind of remarkable how many characters joined this season or later. It's hard to imagine we went over six seasons without having Chloe in Ms. LaBonz's class (and Arnold and Kaylee still aren't there)!

-It's too bad I'm an old person who's more comfortable writing a bunch of words than just making memes, because I feel like this all could've been covered much more succinctly with that "Seinfeld" meme: "You're crying from 'Bob's Burgers' Season 7?"

[msm-tsotmw]

5/13/20XX

I have nothing to say except for the fact that it’s getting really windy out here, plus I’ve been trying to read this ONE book but the pages keep flipping. Wait…

(Sprigg spots a bunch of strange glyphs on a piece of aged paper tucked between two of the pages.)

What’s That ?

AGH! TOORIE!

Oh , Sorry , Heh Heh ! I Was Just Curious About That Piece Of …

Toorie, NO. Don’t touch it.

(It’s too late. Toorie’s already picked up the piece of paper, but her poor grip and the wind blows it away.)

FUCK-

OH . UH-

(Luckily, Mondo catches it. He tries to read it, but his cringefail simp brain cannot comprehend the glyphs.)

the fuck is this

Uh…

May I take a look ?

Oh. Sure. It’s just another page of glyphs.

(Mauna squints at the piece of paper. She tucks it in her bag.)

We should probably dock somewhere so that I can read this better . Sprigg , is there anywhere on the map that is located near us?

(Sprigg squints at the map on the boat deck.)

…Faerie Island, apparently. It’s a few days away from here.

I think I can handle waiting for that long . I should keep an eye on this paper , just in case !

Speaking Of The Paper , What’s It About ?

More glyphs .

Ooh ! Interesting !

nice

what do you think they mean

I … do not know yet . Let us just keep sailing , for now !

Okay !

alr

But the thing is, we’re gonna need someone here to tell us if we’ve reached Faerie yet. I don’t think ANY of us have been there before.

Hmm …

maybe I could help?

(Everyone on the boat looks up at the top of the mast to find Flitz sitting there, with a pair of goggles on top of her head, as well as a compass watch on her right talon.)

ey flitz

how did you get here

well, uh-

i… kinda figured you guys would need help on your trip! plus, I did help you guys find your way to some places before, if I recall correctly…

what I’m saying is, I just wanted to join! adventuring seems WAY more fun than just sitting at my screen posting pics of food all day, haha.

Well , You’re Welcome To Join The Team !! We Did Need A Navigator , Anyway , Haha .

So do you know where Faerie Island is? It’s a few days away from here, but I’m not sure which way we should be heading…

faerie island? wait, my friend Siku lives there! I think if you just go straight ahead, then steer left for a few days, then you’ll get there. the giant beanstalk on the beach is a tell-tale sign! Siku told me that-

Maybe try not to distract us from navigating.

ah. okay.

Nonono , you can tell us ! My partner Moperetta is good friends with Siku , too .

wait, you and Mops are dating?

Erm … yes ! We recently started dating , right before I joined you guys .

oh, that’s amazing!! Mops told me that it thinks you’re beautiful, smart, and graceful, and I’m glad you two finally got to be together.

Me too !

Aww ! It’s Wonderful How Moperetta Finally Got To Be With The Monster They’ve Always Dreamed Of Being With . Right , Mondo ?

oh uh

yeah

uh

(Sprigg shoots a look at Mondo that looks like this.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yeah uhhhhHHH

anyways, Flitz is here!! she’s pretty good at finding directions, also I think they’re gonna need a bigger boat for all these new members lol

might add a Faerie monster to the team idk-

-Mod Jimmy 🗣️