#Like proper shit and not skits

[retsuyachan]

Ohger pixiv fanfic be like

Me reading girajera fanfic: damn I want this kind of domestic writing for rakusuzu

Me reading rakusuzu: UH Im ok with xxx but not THAT DESCRIPTIVE GUYS

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕥 𝔻𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥

Pairing: Lensless/No Goggles!Mark Grayson x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: Language, I guess?

Tags: Comedy, both you & Mark are deranged

Word Count: 656

Synopsis: A summer afternoon turns into a full on, WWE backyard brawl between you & some patio furniture. Eventually you tag in your boyfriend who is more than eager for the matchup.

a/n: this is so dumb LMFAO

This was supposed to be a relaxing Sunday. Piecing together some new furniture for your backyard, ready to ring in summer the proper way – with barbecue and all.

The box had promised “easy, no-tools assembly” — which turned out to be a lie straight from the devil’s mouth, because here you were: sweaty, pissed off, and one Allen wrench away from a full mental breakdown.

The patio chair frame wobbled. Again. You stood slowly. Blank-faced. Breathing through your nose. Then you flipped like a switch.

“FUCK YOUUU!!!”

You flung the frame a few feet with all the rage your arms could muster — which wasn’t much, but it got the point across. A screw popped off and smacked the side of your house with a metallic ping. You chased after it like you hadn’t finished showing it who was boss—which, to be fair, you weren’t. The whole time you were muttering pure nonsense rage.

“You wanna be crooked? I’LL FUCKING—”

You started stomping it.

Kicking the legs.

Jumping on it.

At some point you picked it up and started slamming it against the grill. Honestly you were probably just a minute away from trying to take a bite out of the damn thing. The fury was real.

You didn’t even hear the gust of wind behind you — just the sudden whoop of a voice like a goddamn sports commentator on crack:

“WOOOO!! WHOOP ITS ASS BABY!!! HELL YEAH, GET THAT BITCH!!”

You froze mid-swing, turning a bit feral to look over your shoulder.

Mark was there, hovering just a foot off the ground. That insane glint in his eyes like he just stumbled into a jackass skit.

“You want help?!”

“...No—”

“TOO BAD, I’M IN!!”

Before you could say a word, Mark dove down like a missile — and the chair never stood a chance. He ripped the metal frame apart like it was paper, bent one of the arms backward with a maniacal grin, and then punched the seat straight through the deck boards.

The wood parts cracked, another bolt flying past your head, and a sharp splinter nailed him in the face.

Right in the eye.

“AUGH—FUCK!!” he staggered back, one hand flying up to his cheek. “This piece of shit is fighting back!!”

His eye was already red and watering, a thin trickle of blood starting to smear down his temple.

You, still very much blood lusted, pointed dramatically at the wreckage with gritted teeth. “TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, BABE!! PUT THAT PILE OF SCRAP IN ITS PLACE!”

Mark wiped the blood with the back of his hand and slowly turned back to the frame like he was squaring up with a supervillain. His smile was deranged.

“Ohhh… oh, it wants to go there.”

He was deep in the trenches now. You were nothing but a shadow of his past life. All that was left was him, this patio furniture, and the fate of his manhood before him.

He crouched, picked up one of the jagged metal arms — dented, bent, still warm from the chaos — and slowly brought it to his face. His voice dropped to a whisper, low and dangerous. “I will take from you everything you love and let you die in their ashes.”

And then—without fanfare—he crushed it.

One hand.

Fingers curling like a vice.

The metal shrieked as it gave way, folding in on itself like a deflating balloon before crumbling into all but dust between his palm. Tiny fragments drifted to the grass below.

Mark didn’t flinch. He just stared down at the powder in his hand, eyes wild, breathing shallow.

You watched, absolutely unbothered, arms crossed, nodding like a coach from the sidelines.

“Good form. Really clean technique.”

He turned to you with windblown hair, blood on his cheek, and the light of the damned in his eyes. But then he grinned, and asked, “Need me to take care of the umbrella too?”

[cruyuu]

Oooh since you're on a Sukuita streak, I'm dying to know how you think Yuuji and Sukuna feel about each other in chapter 271 👀 that's a question that's been nagging at me since we don't see this new and enlightened Sukuna interact with or mention Yuuji (unfortunately 😔) But I can't help but feel there's some fondness there on both sides

Hi anon! I'm on a sukuita streak bc I'm currently trying to complete my re-read of jjk for my skit analysis but failing terribly because I'm busy as hell (+ they're on my mind a lot these days). Thank you for allowing me to yap a bit more about them in the meantime tho!

I'll start everything off with this: Everything's very subtle in these few last chapters and it's so subtle that some still think nothing's changed. It's there if you care but if you don't, it can easily go over your head.

Now, to answer your question, I'll have to state that my personal opinion is that the moment of Sukuna's change had started since the day of his reincarnation into Yuuji's body, but that he only acknowledged it in Chapter 271- when he finally called him by his full name. I'll keep it brief here but will offer a more proper explanation in my analysis. For now, I'll just put it like this: Sukuna was changing but wasn't admitting it to himself. He was fighting that and lost because of that. If he was still as unhinged as he was back in the Heian era and didn't give two fucks, trust me, the ending (and his relationship with Yuuji) would've been waaaaay different that it is now.

This opinion of mine has affected how I view canon in some aspects and hence, to me, it makes it plausible that their relationship would've been the same whether at Chapter 1 or post-embraced "change" (Chapter 268 and 271).

It would not be a total "change" with them skipping rocks and laughing and being all lovey dovey but rather... no longer extreme but sort of reluctant, awkward and competitive (with lots of teasing) friendship??? There would be similar vibe they had when we first grew to love them. I do think there would've been more pronounced fondness there after the acceptance.

The reason for all of this up above is that this is a shonen work and that they're labeled as enemies (meaning that if it was a different genre, you know damn well they'd be lovers...).

Anyway, Yuuji had officially joined the "favored by Sukuna" club when Sukuna called him by his full name and was "surprised" he'd take this "farce" so far. One thing that's known about Sukuna is that he tends to compliment his opponents and then say their name and Yuuji seemingly joins the trend... with an insult (but I'd call it a disguised compliment).

and yeah, I know, "How can I claim that it means something when he didn't compliment him nor his abilities?"

Well, that's the thing. There's always something different.

If there's one thing unique to these two, it's the fact that they're stubborn shits whose relationship is like a locked room mystery. The key is to pay close attention. Don't trust the words, look at the actions because it isn't that simple. That's where usually those who don't care fail to see the relevance and why they're confused with, for example, why Yuuji told Sukuna that he is him. It's because it's not directly stated, but rather hinted at, time and time again. These two have that sort of relationship, one extremely layered, with lies and deceit, and haunted by double meaning and subtext.

Yuuji was always the one (and I cannot stress that enough). If you've read this manga then you know just how yappy and weird Sukuna tends to get about this "insignificant brat" who he relentlessly mocks and teases and argues with and then claims he's boring. He's constantly doing the opposite of what he says when it comes to Yuuji, and as it happens, so does Yuuji too.

Yuuji is always singled out. Even if he blended into the surroundings and disappeared, Sukuna would still manage to find a trace of him because that's totally a normal way to think about someone you deem "insignificant". The same goes with Yuuji, who in his intent in stopping Sukuna, forgets about his act of being the embodiment of good (and claiming moral superiority to Sukuna) and goes on to cannibalize his half-brothers (which is... very Sukuna of him). This is even given more relevance when you remember Sukuna never ate someone in the story despite being proclaimed "a cannibal".

Still, this is why Yuuji no longer argues about morals with him and why his talk with him in 265 appeals to the fact that they are similar, more than they can even seem to admit and that arguing against who's right and wrong is pointless.

The reason why Yuuji is singled out is because he is the closest we'll ever know of Sukuna who doesn't talk about himself much. They may seem vastly different at first, but as you go deeper and deeper into the story, the lines between them start to blur and at times, even Yuuji's behavior is unexplainable because even he, too, doesn't act accordingly at times. They're both the same (said by Yuuji himself) and hence via them interacting with each other is how we learn more and more about them individually. Because, even if they are "the same", they are still different because their choices are what shaped them as well as how they view life (again, stated by Yuuji himself).

They're not your "everything is right there", but rather "everything is there if you know how to look". In my revisiting of Chapter 271, I realized that Sukuna had already stated everything there is to state. The fact that he's open with others, that he's capable of being weak, finding weak opponents "worthy", being killed, being defeated, being treated as a human being... all of that goes to Yuuji.

He doesn't need to state anything directly because he's quite a skilled liar:

Sukuna had lived for years. He wasn't defeated, instead, he accepted Kenjaku's proposal and sealed himself into fingers for a different purpose. That purpose was participation in the Culling Games. Why did he do that? Well he didn't give any explanation so we have figure it out.

Back then, there was no Itadori Yuuji and back then Sukuna was hailed as the strongest with no one there to equal him. He was feared, revered, loved, hated, but ultimately never defeated. Also, he was cursed. If this curse (as he calls himself) lived according to his principles, he'd be enjoying every second of his life, but in the Yorozu flashback he appears... very bored. That's the first contradiction that we have with Sukuna. The fact that he lives according to his own whims yet never appears satisfied nor happy. Hell the happiest he seems is in modern times, when he awakens in Yuuji's body and excitedly shouts about how much things have changed.

Now was Kenjaku's proposal just giving Sukuna more people to slaughter in the future? No. Seems pointless. Could it be that they were offering Sukuna a way out from the curse that he was carrying? Seems way more probable. After all, Kenjaku would go on to create Yuuji, and curiously, he'd be the one to take everything away- liberate Sukuna from his curse and offer him a different perspective, even offer to be there for him no matter what (which again, I cannot fucking imagine is actual reality... I still think 268 is a fever dream).

The truth comes out in the end, after Yuuji looks at his torn fingers, calls Sukuna's fingers harmless and smiles at the sky. Sukuna isn't even alive and yet Yuuji predicts correctly that he's harmless- as Sukuna would go on to say that he lost and that it'll be nice to take a different path in life. It's just confirmation that the fondness he has for him is there because he doesn't belittle him, doesn't make any negative comments but just... says it's all good and smiles. The same is true for Sukuna because he's no longer stubbornly clinging on to his way of "contradictory living" and is actually considering doing what Yuuji told him. He doesn't vehemently reject the idea (as would be expected), but rather embraces it.

Courtesy of Itadori Yuuji.

Again, to quote myself:

Sukuna had stated everything there is to state. The fact that he's open with others, that he's capable of being weak, finding weak opponents "worthy", being killed, being defeated, being treated as a human being... all of that goes to Yuuji.

This is what Sukuna had learned via Yuuji, something that he had no way of experiencing before, otherwise he would've changed a long time ago and wouldn't stubbornly cling to life nor make deals with Kenjaku who also longed for fulfillment (which they had found ;) ). It seems pointless to trap yourself just to kill more people in the future or cause "mass chaos" via the Merger, just because "the humans have different flavors". I bet he also had a great share of amazing battles and "unique flavors" even back then and besides, doing grand schemes for shits and giggles is a bit boring. Hence why "looking for a way out of his cursed state" / "change" is a more better explanation imo.

So! I went off track here a bit lmfao. But yep, Sukuna is quite a good liar. The change he was looking for- something which didn't bring him fulfillment back in the Heian era- was found in the modern era, where he shared a body with this brat who will ultimately "change the trajectory of his life".

Sukuna lived within Yuuji and even if he likes to pretend that he doesn't know him, he does. He knows him just as well as Yuuji knows him in return. The narrative spells it out. Both of them are extremely strong and quite perceptive about others so why in the hell's name would they not be about each other? It appears like they've just been blind or ignoring the truth until they had to face it.

Still, anon, I understand the feeling and I know it seems weird and off to just end it like that without discussing it in greater detail, especially after what I ranted about above. Their relationship is a clusterfuck and that's why I love them a lot because you can't exactly place where it lies exactly. It's ambiguous as hell, with both romantic, sexual, familial, hell all undertones there are. Are they enemies? Are they lovers? Are they just misunderstood friends? Nephew and uncle? Who knows (do not ask Gege).

Even if jjk has ended, it still feels like something's missing. The question and the definite answer. Here, the question is posed and has seemingly remained unanswered because Sukuna's dead and Yuuji alive. They've been separated.

So how will we ever know what enlightened Sukuna thinks about Yuuji? How do they truly feel about each other?

I talked about it briefly here (regarding Chapter 271 and how valuable it is) and I already discussed up above how I view them. How even if nothing's there, there's still something there and that something is a lot. It seems confusing as hell but it's the best explanation I can give you.

In short: Yes, there is fondness there post-Chapter 271 due to just how much these two had impacted each other and how the ending played out and I bet there's a lot of suppressed love which couldn't get out due to Sukuna being lowkey put off by emotional conversations and quite stubborn in his view of life and being "misunderstood". Yuuji is way more open emotionally and hence why he's all "sunshine and rainbows about it" while Sukuna is still being subdued about it... but not totally because even he admitted that he lost to Yuuji and that his "farce" got him good in the end (so much so that he'd love to meet him again if there is life again).

In true tragic romance cliche fashion, our fated lovers enemies do not make it but alas, it isn't that dark and the send off is extremely pretty imo. Sure, like I said, it's confusing if you don't know the details nor dwell on it but yeah. They are... just being them. I love them lol.

[tobiasdrake]

What are your thoughts on the Nostalgia Critic?

Complicated.

I was a big fan of the NC in my twenties. I discovered him later than a lot of other people did but that's kind of normal for me, and it meant I had a lot of videos to go back and laugh at. By the time I got onboard, the anniversary movie "To Boldly Flee" had already officially ended the NC's run, before he failed out of his attempts to move on and be a filmmaker, and wound up coming back.

At the time, I really liked the format of "Wacky skits and personal plotlines mixed with video essay". Writing a story with characters and storylines and also riffing on existing media at the same time. It was basically a modern MST3K, which I'd never really been able to find accessibly.

But the thing that really grabbed me was Channel Awesome itself. The community of creators who would cross over into each other's videos and do collaborative projects and mix up their storylines together and stuff.

And I loved the movies. I watched all of them like dozens of times. It was so cool seeing these creators that I had parasocial relationships with going on adventures and fighting villains and stuff.

...but then things fell apart for Channel Awesome, and we started learning more and more about how shitty everything was behind the scenes for those creators. And how the channel was never really invested in those creators to begin with, and only cared about propping up the Nostalgia Critic.

It soured me on the whole thing, and made me stop and really think about the series. How a lot of those other creators that the channel was exploiting are doing what Doug does better than he does.

I'm not going to say Doug is untalented. He has a Jim Carrey-esque comedic talent, which is to say that he has a remarkable aptitude for flailing his limbs and making sounds erupt from his throat.

Doug's bread and butter is wildly over-the-top reactions, frantic body movement, and the kind of shrieking that will absolutely murder your throat. Which sounds simple but is surprisingly hard to do yourself and, with good comedic timing, can be very funny. He got big for a reason.

But. At the end of the day, all he's bringing to these movies is CinemaSins- or Zero Punctuation-level critique mixed with physical comedy, while other creators in his space were offering thoughtful, serious analysis.

And I like CS and ZP, don't get me wrong. They can be very funny when you remember that this is not a proper review but basically a comedy roast. I've always found criticism of those videos to be akin to sitting down to an hour-length special that's literally just stand-up comedians talking shit about Tom Cruise and going, "Wow, they are being very mean to Tom Cruise. Do they have to be so mean to him?"

But it's a very different sort of thing from, say, listening to F.D. Signifier explain the complete history of the legendary Drake and Kendrick rap beef for three hours.

Comedy isn't easy. But it's easier than the kinds of thoughtful critique that other creators who walked away like Lindsay Ellis or Dan Olson were doing.

And at the same time they were walking away, the Nostalgia Critic's revival was... underwhelming.

While the other collaborators were leaving, the NC was becoming an island reliant on his own stable of paid actors and divorced from the collaborations that made him big to begin with. And the passion just... wasn't there anymore.

It was pretty clear that he'd fallen back on doing NC because his attempt at branching out, his new series Demo Reel, never took off with audiences. The NC revival was Doug passionlessly returning to what made him successful and paid his bills. And it never felt the same after that.

After Change the Channel, it all fell into place. I wasn't enjoying Doug's passionless new videos because he was just going through the motions. I couldn't go back and watch the old stuff I used to love knowing how miserable the other collaborators were behind the scenes and how much Channel Awesome as mistreating them to prop up Doug. My parasocial relationship with him fractured after finding out how he treated the other creators.

(It's worth noting that his paid employees who he pays to support him came out in support of him during all that. The NC isn't some guy's internet show that he films in his bedroom, it's a company. Doug himself is an employee. He doesn't even own the legal rights to the Nostalgia Critic; He signed it over to an executive to manage him.

Tamara and Malcolm are not his buddies; They're his hired staff, so take their opinions while on his payroll with a grain of salt. This is a professional operation, which makes how unprofessional it all is appalling rather than endearing.)

And there were other creators out there, including the ones he'd mistreated, making the same kind of stuff he was making but better. So I made a choice to leave and never looked back.

[dianight]

It's not about the chair. Not even in a metaphorical way. The chair is not important, but the chair is very important. It's just an example, not about the literal chair but what it represents in reality. It's not a reference to that one Tsukihime scene, if anything it's referencing that one skit about the nail. We are not getting into whether it's good or not nor the problematic angle it approaches differences in communication, it's about the chair. But also it's not about the chair. It's about extra work. It's about being dismissed. It's about not being important to others. It's about the chair too. But not in the way you think. It's an idea. An overly difficult to communicate idea. It's about how I could kick the chair, hit it with another chair, smash it to bits and then spit on it. But it's not the chair that matters, nor is it what this is about. It's about struggling. It's about trying, and the hurdles in the way, which in a way, the chair is and isn't. It's about your enviroment, your willpower and your will to live. It's an actual chair in my kitchen, but it's not about it. It's about disability, it's about being invisible, it's about my own evergrowing rage. It's about being trans, but also not. It's about doing everything in your power to live, and being told "die". It's about closing your heart when you want to love. It's about the chair. But it's also not about the chair. Do you see what I mean? You probably don't. Picture this. A chair in your kitchen. The chair has a place where it always is. Under the table, barely sticking out. The chair has a place where it has to be, where it should be, a place made for it, by design, by habit and for convenience. The chair exists and the chair has a purpose and the chair has a position where it is. Picture this. You wake up. It's early morning, whatever that means to you. Wash your face, pee, take a shit if you want. Put some clothes on, take some clothes off. Go to the kitchen. Slam your arm into a wardrove door that should be closed. It sends those annoying tingles from your elbow, it hurts a bit. It's about not shouting, not cursing, not crying out in pain. It's about that urge to kill whoever left the door opened. It's about pretending to be human. It's about being quiet while everyone else sleeps, even if they won't do that for you. Picture this. You still go to the kitchen. You are going to get breakfast. You enter the kitchen and walk directly into the chair that is out of position. Into the chair that should be barely sticking out of the table. Into the chair that someone left in the way and out of its position. It's about seeing red. It's about living with others. It's about the bloodlust inside you clawing her way out through your mouth in a voiceless scream. It's about not being heard when you speak. It's about how easy it would be to slit a throat with a very, very sharp kitchen knife. It's about the carelessness of others hurting you, both direct and indirectly, both literal and metaphorically. It's about the rage you've known your entire life urging you to do it. It's about your disability being invisible, your identity being an afterthought and your existence being tolerated on the best day. It's about someone forgetting or perhaps not caring about leaving the chair out of position. It's about walking back with your breakfast ready after putting the chair in its proper place. It's about you life being difficult no matter how much you try. It's about the mark it leaves and the throbbing in your leg the entire morning. It's about navigating a world that at best doesn't care about you and at worst is actively trying to make you disappear. It's about crying after you remember having already asked to place the chair correctly. It's about not being listened to when you speak. It's about how you'll look when you repeat yourself because this morning you hurt yourself because someone left the chair where it shouldn't be and you'd like the chair to be where it belongs. It's about the chair, see? But you understand that it's not about the chair, right? You get it?

[uinferno]

TF2 updated so I'm taking this post out of drafts:

The TF2 Mercs are a part of the internet equivalent of the commedia dell'arte stock characters. Being automatically included in Source derivative software such as SFM and GMod, they're very easily available as premade rigs for amateur animators to use in their works. The simple, cartoony, and discernible designs make them very easy to read at any angle, which although originally used to be easily read in a competitive gaming environment, translates well to comedy skits. Unlike similar games such as Overwatch, where they're practically over-designed in a very definite artstyle, TF2 characters are lacking in accessories as a default. Generally wearing simple single color jackets, t-shirts and pants. In fact, the varied nature of TF2's cosmetic system makes them perfect as dress-up dolls, making it very easy to reuse the same base model and differentiate between them.

That brings me to their characterization. Even though most if not all have pretty well defined backstories and narratives, outlined in the supplementary media of comics and Meet the Videos, their baseline personalities can be easily transplanted into various skits and narratives with minimal introduction. Scout is a cocky jackass. Soldier is a dimwitted, overly patriotic American. Heavy is simultaneously soft-spoken and boisterous Russian who revels in violence. These simple yet understood personalities mean you can bypass proper character introductions by identifying who's in what role from the start, similar to the archetypes from the aforementioned commedia dell'arte.

You don't even have to be a fan of tf2 to grasp these roles. The ubiquity of SFM as free 3d animation software is a self supporting introduction. If you are unfamiliar with tf2's narrative, simply consuming a handful of these animations can get you up to speed.

Simultaneously, TF2's narrative is just as batshit as the fan animations that are inspired by it. You could certainly use other valve properties for similar reasons regarding animation accessibility, but TF2 embracing comedy from the start and the simple insanity of its characters means you can transport them to a wider array off stories while asking for a much smaller suspension of disbelief.

A Half Life animation is far more likely to be about Half Life than any given TF2 animation is about TF2. Many of them are, but way more are simply not.

TF2 as a property has a lot of staying power. 16 years now and even with minimal support from valve, it still soldiers on (pun intended) as a significant part of internet meme culture. I find it's notoriety akin to Hatsune Miku, where they're given a second life outside of the purpose of their original creation. They're less FPS characters, and more little dolls novice animators smack together for the entertainment of others.

And at the end of the day that's almost all it really takes. A significant slice of media engagement and fan works for the internet at large could not care less about Canon or the main narrative, even if its well regarded, because the biggest draw for many is simply taking strong personalities and putting them in funny situations. It's why incorrect quotes are absolutely everywhere despite the fact that a good 80% of them do not fit the original characters one bit. Meanwhile, TF2 as a property actively encourages it.

The following are all fan animations that have jack shit to do with each other or the original canon--be it in game, the original animations, or expanded comics--and yet they're still ultimately cohesive as these little shorts that play with the cast as archetypes, with their own recognizable appearances and roles. (Tucked behind Keep Reading to save space)

[princess-of-thebes-bc]

I want to add this moment in my series of A Life Bartered. But... It doesn't make sense or add up. So, it is up to you if you would allow this to the story or an independent skit.

It was almost a full day since you came back to the base in Hell's Gate. With the help of your "boyfriend". The Head of Security. Colonel Miles Quaritch of the Marines.

And of course, Corporal Wainfleet and your friend, Pilot Trudy Chacon.

It was obvious no one but the four of you knew of your situation and had to be kept a secret until further notice. Minus the doctor Quaritch hired to check on you.

Quaritch pulled the doctor to the side and asked him to give you therapy. You were like a lost soul since you found about your miscarriage.

The Doctor shook his head and said he was not qualified to be a therapist.

The Colonel glared in annoyance.

"Just open her up and I will listen."

.....

Out of fear, the Doctor made you sit from your bed and he asked about what you were thinking.

You didn't know that through the mirror, Quaritch was watching.

"I wish I knew the gender of my lost baby." You admitted.

The Doctor asked why.

"I wanted to name it and give it a proper funeral.

The thought of a small fetus sliding off between your legs and being a piece of meat. And perhaps an animal ate your unborn child.

Maybe a Viper Wolf. You cringed. You remembered after agreeing being Quaritch's lover, he explained how he almost got killed by that monster day one in arriving in Pandora.

You hated those beast more now.

"I get nightmares and see my dead baby."

The Doctor looked at your lovely face with pity. "A young lady your age wants to start developing maternal attachment to their child. It's natural."

Natural. You were an advanced human. A mutant. Able to breath the Pandora air and never aging and being the most beautiful creature. Might as well be a nymph and not a human. But, you were still mortal enough to lose a child.

You blamed yourself. The Colonel was manipulating Selfridge to stop funds. Your father's money couldn't be transferred that quick to your debit card. Earth was far away after all. So, you thought if you prostituted your virgin legs he would give you what you want and leave when done.

But, he was serious and loved you. Then a hideous Navi fancied you and demanded you for a cease fire.

In the end, you realized you loved the Colonel but your selfish actions killed your first born child.

What a terrible mother you were yet you never gave birth. If that made sense.

Ironically, the Colonel hated himself so much at the moment. He blamed himself for indirectly killing his first child.

If he didn't admit defeat and gave you up to that blue monkey. None of this shit would have happened. The Colonel wanted you to forgive him.

As for you, you want Quaritch to forgive you for not loving him back when he made the move on you.

Is it selfish of you to replace child with another and move on?

The barged in the room.

"You may leave."

[miamorpm]

home - chris raab x fem!reader

warnings - swearing, mention of death.

word count - 2,026.

you were part of the cky crew back in the late 90s and early 2000s, you were in viva la bam, haggard and jackass. you went the same route as bam and ryan basically. they were your best friends, along with raab. 2011 hit and ryan died, you were never on tv or social media after that. you kind of disappeared.

you felt sad for leaving everyone behind but you knew it was the best thing to do. dico did that a few years prior and the communication between you and him was limited but he knew you were trying to get out as well. he supported that. bam was going off the rails, raab was in rehab trying to get better, novak was trying to keep clean, rake was working a proper job, frantz was doing other stuff.

you moved to portland, you got a job working as a photographer, you only kept in contact with april and phil, just to make sure everyone was okay.

now it was 2019 and you were still at your job, you had a good group of friends and you loved it. you were at home and you got a message from april, asking if raab could get your number. you were nervous and confused, but you said that it was okay. a few minutes had passed then a number called you. you answered.

'hello.' you said, still feeling nervous. 'hey, y/n. it's raab.' you gulped. 'i know that you moved on with your life after ryan died but i was wondering if you would come on my podcast. i've had so many of guys on and i'd love to come and see you.' you didn't know what to say. you hadn't talked to him in years.

'i'll do it.' you agreed. 'awesome, when do you want to do it?' he sounded excited. 'i'm free anytime next week.' you both settled on next tuesday. you messaged him your address. now you had to wait until then.

-

it was now tuesday. you got up, showered and dressed into something casual, some jeans and a t-shirt. it was in the afternoon when someone knocked at the door. you got up and opened it. there he was, chris raab. he looked the same, older but he still had those beautiful eyes. he looked nervous as well.

he looked at you. you just stared at him. 'can i give you a hug?' you whispered, he smiled and nodded. you both wrapped your arms around each other. you missed this.

you separated from the hug and invited him in. he sit up everything in your dining room. 'do you want a drink?' he nodded, 'some water would be good.' you nodded and got a bottle of water for each of you.

you both sat down at the table across from him. 'okay. we're recording.' you nodded. this felt so weird. you hadn't been infront of a camera in 8-ish years. 'okay, so. you haven't filmed anything in a while. since the last jackass film?'

you nodded, 'me and bam filmed some random stuff after jackass 3. it never went anywhere, i don't think. then... ryan died and i just wanted away from west chester, everything reminded me of him. it still happens, of course but not as much.' raab nodded and listened.

'i still have everything from back then. i'll show you afterwards. but, i have pictures, outfits from some of the skits, tapes and dvd, mixtape, god there's so much.' you chuckle.

you and raab sit and talk for what seems like minutes but was actually an hour. 'so tell me more about your life after ryan passing.'

'so basically, after ryan's funeral, i packed up all of my shit and moved to portland. i drove all the way there. everyone was a mess, i was a mess but moving was my way of handling it. i was scared, of course and i do regret it. it was stupid for running.'

'i cut contact with everyone apart from april and phil and dico, kind of. the connection with him has sort of disappeared but i'm happy for him. but april told me everything that was happening with you guys and the jackass guys. i got a job in photography. everything's been okay since then.'

raab took that all in, nodding along to you. 'yeah, i completely understand that. i don't blame you for doing that, it was definitely better than being around all of us. everyone got really bad, drinking, drugs. it was hard but we got through it.' i nod at his words.

you talked for a bit longer before raab decided to stop recording. 'that was so much fun. i couldn't think of a better person to do that with.' he smiled. he packed up everything and you invited him outside to the back garden. you both sat on the porch swing that was outside your door.

'i always wondered what happened to you. we never knew where you went, none of the guys. we knew that you were safe. we all wanted to go looking for you.' raab admitted. you couldn't help but tear up, you felt so bad. 'part of me wonders what would've happened if i stayed.' you wiped your tears.

both of you are quiet, you gently lean your head on raab's shoulder. he smiled. an idea popped into his head, 'how about you come to west chester with me? i'm going back there anyway.' you did miss everyone. you wondered how everyone was. 'okay! i'd love that.' you said, getting really excited.

'we will have to drive there but we can take turns, is that okay?' you nodded. 'when should we leave?' it would take a few days to drive there. 'we should probably leave soon, when we both get tired, we can get a motel room.' he agreed. you packed up some essentials, some clothes, anything that you needed.

as soon as you could, you got on the road. it was peaceful and you felt happy. you spent most of the time catching up with raab, everything that's happened. listening to music, playing silly games, taking turns of driving and, of course, laughing.

-

you finally arrived in west chester, you were the one that drove past the sign and you felt all the emotions hitting you all at once. it brought back so many memories. you couldn't help but tear up. raab noticed this and placed his hand over yours. 'it's okay.' he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

raab gave you directions to his house. when you got there, you parked in the drive way and got out. it was around 11 am. 'let freshen up then we can see everyone, if that's okay with you.' you nodded. you brushed your teeth and put some fresh clothes on.

you went to april and phil's house. raab knocked on the door, you were slightly behind him. april opened the door and smiled, 'hey, chris. you okay?' she brought him into a hug then noticed me. 'oh my god!' you smiled and brought her into a bone crushing hug. phil came out to see what all the shouting was about and saw you. he smiled.

you and april separated, tears in both of your eyes. you brought phil into a hug as well. after your hug, you went inside the house and into the living room, you sat with them for ages, talking about everything that had happened after you left.

'i'm going to talk to some of the guys and ask them to come over, say i've got a surprise for them.' raab said, messaging everyone to come over. everyone had accepted and were on their way over. the first people to arrive was jess and chad. they spotted you immediately and gave you a big hug each.

the next person to arrive was novak. he was in shock that you were actually here but gave you a hug. rake was next, he gave you the biggest hug ever. the last one to arrive was bam. he walked through the door to the living room and saw everyone sitting around. 'what's this surprise you talking about?' he asked raab.

raab pointed over to you and bam's face changed. 'what the fuck? why are you here?' he was angry. everyone was worried. 'well? why are you here? you fucked off when we needed you most. everyone was hurt, we had just lost one friend, we didn't want to lose you too.' you teared up at his words.

'i'm sorry. i know it wasn't the best thing to do. i felt like it was the only option.' bam rolled his eyes. 'sorry doesn't take back those 9 years of wondering if you were okay. you could've been dead like ryan and we wouldn't know!' he shouted. everyone was quiet but april gasped. you got up and stormed to the bathroom.

when you got to the bathroom, you broke down. you felt so guilty. in the living room everyone was sticking up for you. 'you had no right to say that. everyone was going through a bad time when ryan passed, it wasn't just you.' raab said. bam didn't like this. he just rolled his eyes and left. april went after him.

everyone looked at each other. raab stood up, 'i'll check on her.' he walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door. 'you okay, honey?' he asked, softly. you sniffled and opened the door. he took you in his arms, whispering to you. 'it's okay, honey. it's all okay. it's not your fault.' you couldn't help but tear up at this. you felt so at home in his arms.

you separated and went to wipe your tears but raab beat you to it. he held your cheek and wiped those tears away. you smiled and blushed. your eyes flickered down to his lips, you tried to be sneaky but he noticed. he smiled brighter.

'can i kiss you?' he said, scared of your answer. you leaned forward, kissing his lips. you were both smiling like idiots. 'i wish i never left.' you said in-between kisses. raab agreed softly. 'i can't explain how much i missed you.' he said. you felt so guilty but you were happy you were with him again.

'come on, don't let bam ruin today. lets go back out there and have fun.' you nodded and followed raab back into the living room. bam was in the living room. 'i'm sorry. i do understand why you did it, i hate that you did it because we did need you. but, i'm sorry.' you nodded and brought him into a hug.

-

you had spent the rest of the day with everyone, just talking about everything that had happened since. like he said, raab was there for you. he knew it was scary being around everyone again. when you left april's house, on the drive back, you fell asleep. when you got to raab's house, he woke you up by kissing your face. 'wake up. you'll get to sleep in a proper bed if you wake up.' you giggled and got out of the car.

'i'll show you to the spare room.' you followed him up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. 'can you stay with me, please? i don't feel like being alone right now.' raab nodded. you went into the bathroom to get changed into some pyjamas, so did raab. when you were both finished, you got into the bed.

you were on your back, staring at the ceiling. 'i don't know if i want to go back to portland.' raab looked at you, 'being back makes me feel... at home.' you looked over at raab and smiled. 'i might move back. i still need to think about it fully but i miss it here.' he smiled.

'all of us would be happy to have you back.' you nod. you sat in silence for a bit, 'is now a good time to tell you i love you?' raab said, nervously. you smile and nod, 'i love you.' you lean forward and kiss him softly.

<3

i kinda hate this. i love the idea i had of it but i don't think it came out that good PAHAHHA

[glassvines]

Thoughts On 2023 Favorites

TV Shows 1. Good Omens season 2: Oops, I'm obsessed again. You can make the argument that a second (and PHEW eventual third) season was unnecessary, but I disagree. It was nice to get a season that wasn't so breakneck in it's pacing. Everything slowed down a bit and focused in on Aziraphale and Crowley's shenanigans. Which, let's be honest, is what the audience wants. That being said, I liked everything else about it too. A cute/silly plot, fun new characters, and a devastatingly sad finale that left me distraught. I could not have asked for more really. (Except more kissing. Please tell me there will be more kissing.) 2. Lockwood and Co: A spooky premise that probably took a lot of effort to appear even semi-believable [as a tv show]. Yet, it was pulled off with flying colors. It was also perfectly atmospheric and charming, so of course netflix canceled it. I plan on reading the books.

Animation (TV & Films) 1. Murder Drones: 2023 was a good year for indie animation overall, and out of all of them Murder Drones was the show to win my entire heart. Perfect setup for horror and YA spoofing, but also well written enough that I enjoyed the character focus and progression as well. I'm psyched for the final two episodes set to release in the spring. 2. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse: If any movie of recent memory deserved a decent sequel it was this one, so I'm very happy it turned out as great as it did. One of the few comic-book films I bothered with in 2023. 3. Hilda season 3: Easily one of my all-time favorites from Netflix, so I'm beyond happy it has a great ending now. Gorgeous animation, a lovable main and support cast, and perfect chill vibes. Deserves a bluray release. 4. Elemental: Listen. Pixar's still got it this was so cute. You're forgiven for The Good Dinosaur Peter Sohn. 5. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem: So much fun tho. Love the current creative trend in cg films happening thanks to Into the Spider-verse. Also, the No Diggity scene was incredible. The movie has an A+ soundtrack. Anime (TV & Films) 1. Trigun Stampede: So relieved this turned out to be great, considering the original is a favorite of mine. Not a easy feat in the age awful, cash-grab reboots. 2. The Boy And The Heron: Honestly? My favorite Miyazaki film since Howl's Moving Castle. Genuinely moving and left me misty-eyed. 3. Demon Slayer: Swordsmith Village Arc: This show is so pretty. Still surprised how well the series portrays it’s simple, compelling cast. Like it’s an effortless sort of thing (it’s not). 4. Suzume: Makoto Shinkai's last three movies just make me happy okay. Happy and hopeful. The best comfort movies ever. Video Games I have a steam deck now so you'd think I played a bunch of video games last year but, no. I didn't get heavily into much last year. Played some Hades though? Live Films || Note: I watched so many great classic horror movies this year that I had never given a proper watch. I would like to continue that this year!! 1. Talk to Me: Please make more horror movies Danny and Michael Philippou. This one was wild. 2. Dark City: The fact that The Matrix got four movies and this didn't get any sequels is a fucking tragedy. 3. Coherence: Love me a simple, creepy sci-fi movie with an interesting premise. Apparently, quite a lot of the film is improvised as well? That blew my mind. 4. Greener Grass: More films that just feel like one big Adult Swim skit please. This style of script is hysterical to me. 5. Caveat: This goes on my fave list simply for scaring the shit out of me lmao. Movies walk a fine line, when the intention is to make you uncomfortable for long periods of time. They risk being irritating instead of entertaining. Caveat had me shrieking at my tv (in a delighted sort of way).

Honorable Mentions 1. Lore Olympus 2. Nier Automata anime 3. Asteroid City + Wes Anderson's new short films 4. OPLA

Things I'm Looking Forward to in 2024 1. Dune 2 2. Second season of Severance hopefully! 3. Madoka Magica Movie 4: Walpurgisnacht: Rising?? Is it finally happening or what? 4. New Magnus Archives

Some Creative & General Goals for 2024 I feel like I was drawing a lot more in 2023! Still nothing worth posting online, but I'm making some progress I think (slowly but surely). Goals: make more art for my siblings when they request it, finish some digital art that I started, and finish the diorama piece I planned out. On the general goals I'd like to travel more! Particularly, I'd like to visit some national parks.

[piglet26]

Star Wars: The Last Jedi Rewatch

Well, here we go. The most divisive Star Wars maybe ever. No, that would be Rise of Skywalker or whatever it was called.

I never read the scroll. Probably should.

We open on The Resistance evacuating. I wonder how much time has passed. At the end of the first film The First Order knew where the Resistance was. Rey had time to leave. Ren healed up a bit.

ILM did a wonder job opening with the animation and the sound design is top notch during this film.

This slapstick skit with Poe and Hux is great.

Poe Dameron is someone you want on your team. Needed to learn some leadership skills, but he's a talented and brave man. Also Leia that Dreadnought needed to go so Poe got lucky with that one. I'm happy that Rian gave Poe more purpose this movie cause he needed the development.

General Hux my how you've tied my heart on the end of a string.

Finn, my boy! staying focused on his sole friend Rey. Once again I remind people that he literally has one friend in the world - Rey - who was ready to die with him and fight for him. He has no attachment to the Resistance he just met most of these people. It makes sense that his purpose would be finding his friend who he last saw passed out.

Ah here's the rub. Once again, any good will this film has bought so far goes down the tube once Luke throws his lightsaber. People mainly hated this film due to it's handling of Luke. I agree. I understand Rian Johnson had to come up with some reason Luke disappeared........ but this?! He abandons his friends and twin sister.

Where Rian Johnson succeeds is literally everywhere else. The scene between Snoke and Ren perfectly illustrates the imbalance and abuse between the two. The scene which I called "No More Daddies" where Ren smashes his mask into pieces is the beginning of his separation from hero/savior identifies. Adam Driver plays this scene perfectly mostly because unlike many other actors rage isn't something he's afraid to get access. He's very much like Al Pacino in that way. Also, please smash that mask to shit you're too gorgeous to keep that face behind a mask.

Luke Skywalker drinking Green Titty Milk. Yup, I understand why Star Wars fans HATE THIS. However, the impulse to run away to an island where it's literally just me, my dog and fish people......... I relate.

Luke "Where are you from"

Rey "Nowhere"

Luke "No one's from nowhere"

Rey "Jakku"

Luke "Alright that is pretty much nowhere."

Leia Organa is the strongest character of the OG3. Han Solo runs from his broken family and Luke runs from his failure. Leia just keeps soldiering on. Respect.

Once again as the First Order tracks The Resistance through lightspeed I wonder how The Republic won the last war and are currently this damn broke. How don't you have more impressive equipment, materials and a proper army?!

Poe Dameron "Permission to jump in an X-wing and blow something up."

Leia "Permission granted."

BB8 and Drones are the best.

[dolliesrot]

Yeah, even at their best the public is exhausting. And honestly how often are they at their best? :/ You're in the service industry too, right? I don't know much about art but I figure if you keep looking at the world, trying things, and having fun with it that's what it's about.

You could tell I was hoping you'd ask what movies, right?

Sunday

Dracula (The Dirty Old Man) (1969, William Edwards) Pretty repugnant, but it was amusing how they saw their movie was shit and then MST3Ked themselves recording the voiceover narration.

Devil Story (1986, Bernard Launois) I was deliberately trying to pick "fever dream" stuff and this qualified. Devil horses are hard to shoot.

Monday

Calamity of Snakes (1982, Chi Chang) Kind of a dud. I watched the "cruelty free" version, which doesn't show snakes being killed on camera but supposes that they don't mind being sprayed with fire extinguishers. Captures Taiwan (?) at a truly unfortunate moment for fashion. Morbid curiosity was not rewarded.

Viy (1967, Konstantin Ershov & Georgiy Kropachyov) Banger! Magic and witches and state-of-the-art Soviet special effects courtesy of Aleksandr Ptushko.

A Virgin Among the Living Dead (1973, Jesus Franco) Rewatch, but I previously had only seen the Wizard VHS version with the alternate clothed takes and the added terrible slow motion zombie scenes. Much better in this version.

Conquest (1983, Lucio Fulci) Vivid in its gruesome derivative patchwork brutality, in spite of looking like it was shot through cheesecloth.

Tuesday

Kuroneko (1968, Kaneto Shindō) Awesome. Spooky and atmospheric and features a kitty.

The Empire Strikes Back Uncut (2012, Casey Pugh) Warm and cuddly fun starring multiple dogs as Chewbacca.

Wednesday

Blonde Ambition (1980, John and Lem Amero) Easily the most charming and effervescent porno I've ever seen. Also deserving of praise that isn't so faint as to be backhanded!

The Cassandra Cat (1963, Vojtěch Jasný) Pretty terrific and beautiful fable. The cat had little wee glasses!

Lord of Illusions (1995, Clive Barker) Enjoyed the LA scenery and stage magic milieu. Unexpectedly terrifying turn from George's boss Mr. Kruger from Seinfeld. (Daniel von Bargen RIP)

Torture Dungeon (1969, Andy Milligan) What can one say about an Andy Milligan movie?

Thursday

The Boogey Man (1980, Ulli Lommel) I was unprepared for how great this was. A slasher ghost story about how childhood trauma follows you through life. John Carradine, couples therapist. I wept. Watch this one, Anna!

Shogun Assassin (1980, Kenji Misumi and Robert Houston) Finally got to hear all the skits from Liquid Swordz in their proper context!

Friday

Hell Comes to Frogtown (1988, RJ Kizer & Donald G. Jackson) Total male fantasy about how hot it would be if Sandahl Bergman wore glasses and had a bomb she could use to blow up your cock whenever she so chose.

The Night of the Hunter (1955, Charles Laughton) Rewatch. Classic. Needs no introduction. It is so good!

The Night of the Hunted (1980, Jean Rollin) Eerily quiet time capsule of a particular era of Parisian architecture. Also weirdly prefigures Memento, but with more nudity.

Perversion Story (1969, Lucio Fulci) Total male fantasy about how hot it would be if Marisa Mell did anything, in this case send you to the gas chamber by framing you for her murder. Really amazing time capsule footage of San Francisco, too. And there's a photographer character, those are always fun.

Oh and I watched a bunch of old Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies in there, too.

Yay The Fly! I've never seen The Hunt. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you watched the one Mads Mikkelsen is in. :D Am I right?

Hope you're feeling better soon! Enjoy that time away from work.

Oh wowowow you managed to get through a lot! I have a hard time multitasking, which makes it hard to watch movies and paint :,c wish it wasn't either or, but god scrambled me that way so whatyyagonnado. DUDE I watched Night of the Hunter for the first time like two months ago and am pretty pissed off that I haven't watched it sooner! I wish the song about the pretty fly and the spider was on spotify 🕸️Also!! Thank you! You totally gave me some bangers I need to put on my list! (Probably gonna try and get to Viy, A Virgin Among the Living Dead, and The Boogey Man first!).

Also,,,, I think i'd bang him </3 religious psychosis and murderous nature be damned mans got a way with werds.

[slimmestslime]

just went to a con yesterday, pretty decently sized and wasn’t like. fifty people this time. was really fun though

(rambling \/)

saw sooo so many hazbin cosplayers and merch. lord fucking above i was drowning. BUT. i did see a cool as shit daft punk cosplay duo, some hyperspecific guys that im pretty sure handmade their cosplays from scratch. one guy’s stuff was like half articulated and it was a mecha type of thing. so that was pretty awesome. one girl came in on stilts for this like. monster-girl type cosplay? i could be stupid. but it was really cool

the merch booths were half/half. its convention prices As always, but there was some pretty banger shirts and stuff like terrariums and bonsai displays. There was a guy ripping us the FUCK off for 50 dollars a shirt (which were poorly printed), when directly across thw convention a guy was selling 3 for 50.

found a booth that i coined the Plushie Emporium because it was all entirely licensed plushies in like. a box you could walk into. was really cool but by the time i did my 10th lap or so i walked in. realized im five bucks short of buying anything in there nd walked back out. told the lady that i really liked her stock and i dont think she understood me. which um. i feel really bad for.

obligatory japanese food booth, and also two 3dprinted stalls which were neat. one of the stalls decorated like, ram sticks with a pokemon figurine and then other stuff. and im regretting not buying them now… fuck… and they had really nice 3d printed pokemon that were low-poly esque. …my only regret is not buying anything at that booth..

anyway! apart from merch, me and a friend attended some panels. one documenting 90s-late 2000s cosplaying, and another talking about oold old anime. and how anime evolved into the mainstream. both were pretty cool and funny. but we attended this one panell, “who’s line is it!” or, something. and its an improv panel. and holy fuck was it good. like it was rising improv artists doing really funny skits. was genuinely awesome

OH and. ONE person recognized me. he went “Hey Hank.” and i did the fucking thing where you freeze up and all you can say is “Hi!”. nd i felt like such ass i was about to go find the guy again and freak out and be like “YOU KNOW MADCOM TOO?!” but um. my friend told me not to worry abt it. but he was the first person to point me out!!! And of course he sounded like the fucking nerd emoji!!!! i think my brain forgot i Was indeed cosplaying as the wimbleman himself. and i just factory defaulted. sucks but whatever. he probably forgot by now (But i didnt

+before i forget, we played taiko and the controllers they had fucking Sucked. i dont know what wronged them but it SUCKED. i would have been FINE if i knew the KA placement WAS AT THE TOP OF THE RIM!!! I WAS HITTING THE SIDES!!! evil.

anyway. photos! Which isnt many.

^ obligatory wimbleisms, i didnt get many photos of my cosplay cause. i was mainly just Roaming around

^ funny stuff we found. and yes there was unironically good plushies there!! Really good. but then they had these too.

all in all. good convention. got myself a sakura miku figurine, wanted a nendoroid, Didn’t find any at all. but otherwise was fun. and this is technically my first proper convention, my first one was…. small. AND my first time cosplaying!!

i hope i can evolve Walmart Wimble out of the clearance section and actually upgrade the coat, figure out a better headwrap that isnt a cap, aand wire LEDS into the goggles. <- ( took engineering classes for 3 years, I Just Need Materials and a slight handholding. ) OH and bandages. cant forget about bandage wrap for the arms and head.

but yeah im sore as shit. :3!

[vitaminwaterreviews]

Agust D - Agust D

I haven’t done a proper hip hop album yet, so this was a cool experience. It’s obviously intended to be more lyrical than melodic overall, and learning about the background of the album feels kind of essential to understand what’s going on. So, if you’re gonna listen to this album, definitely check out the Wikipedia page first.

I think I liked the experience. I certainly enjoyed a lot of the songs, and I like the picture that the album as a whole painted. I’m not convinced by the musicality of it; I don’t think I’ll end up listening to most of these songs ever, I really had to pay attention to the lyrics to appreciate them. But a couple of them were enough that I’ll be able to enjoy them without the lyrics. Plus the last song was actually SO good. Overall rating of 7.9 but… I would kind of take that with a grain of salt. I’ve never listened to another album quite like this, so I have nothing to compare that score to, really. I think a rating of 7.5 would be more appropriate.

- So, funny story here. I never intended to listen to anything Agust D, ever. But then earlier this year, for like two weeks straight, D-Day was everywhere I looked. It was all over kpop reddit and it was all over kpop youtube and so when it finally came out, the Haegeum MV was recommended to me literally everywhere. And so I caved and watched it, and I liked it enough to listen to the album. So I saved some songs from D-Day, and that was all. Then yesterday I was like “I should check out his other titles,” so I watched Agust D and Daechwita, and I loved them. So now I’m gonna go through their respective albums and see what I can see!

Also holy shit I just opened up Reddit and the first post on my reddit is “What is being said in the beginning of Agust D?” from 8 minutes ago. If that isn’t a sign then idk what is lmao

Intro : DT sugA

Haha yep, here we go

E N E R G Y

The repetition of “STD” is funny. Like, is he aware of what STD means in english? Surely. But also it’s a pun, he’s Suga from TD. So he is STD, and also Agust D. Wordplay!

Also maybe I should watch lyric videos for these songs, considering it’s mostly rap…

8/10, I do tend to rate intros and interludes highly

Agust D

The MV is so cool. Like, it’s not just trying to be cool: it IS cool

He’s actually such a good rapper. Like I just love the way that words sound when they come out of his mouth

Lyrically, it’s kind of what you’d expect. “I’m great and you’re dumb, fuck all the haters, I’m a real rapper and way better than you too”

8/10. Very good, fun, but I want a bit more from it

give it to me

Woahhh the bell

Also this bass

Also this beat

I love the laugh

(I’ll probably be typing a Lot less because I’m spending more time looking at the lyrics)

7/10

Skit

Oh lol is this literally a skit?

Omg it is that’s so funny

Bro two orders of ribs? Oh I guess if it’s for both of you

Omg he’s totally breaking the 4th wall

“Yankie hyunh” lmao

Okay wait, do I even rate this? I guess I should

9/10, really really cool inclusion, fits the theme of the album well.

724148

Bassy, alright

He keeps referencing bang si hyuk, that’s neat

So far this album seems to be more lyrical than anything, but I’m not totally convinced by the musicality of it. Maybe I’d rate it higher if it was in English, but also, I know what he can do. He’s got more levels to go from this.

7/10

140503 at dawn

Lol he’s moaning like

Oh he’s typing

Lol

7/10

The Last

Do you hear that bass drum?

We do appreciate rapping about mental health issues

9/10

Tony Montana (feat. Yankie)

Ohh it’s Jimin? That’s neat

It’s snowing outside! Pretty

Interesting soundscape

Who tf is Tony Montana then?

“A fictional character and the villain-protagonist of the 1983 film Scarface”

“Embodying the possibility of a person rising from the bottom of society to the top, Tony Montana has become a cultural icon, as well as one of the most iconic film characters of all time.”

6/10 tbh. It’s FIne but definitely my least favorite so far

Interlude : Dream, Reality

Ok, a bit more mellow now are we?

8/10, solid interlude, fit the album, and a nice break from all the intensity

so far away (feat. SURAN)

Oh, we’re ending mellow too

Nvm, we’re ending powerful

Love the guitar solo too

I really don’t know whether to rate this a 9 or a 10. It was so so good. And I genuinely can’t think of anything it could’ve done better, so…

10/10

[bedknees]

welcome to beffys "holy shti that brownie was more potent than anticipated" weird hot takes

-I'm pre outside olivia Rodrigos target demographic but she's so good idfc the grudge made me cry like a bitch

-try grilled cheese with king Hawaiian bread and cooper sharp american. not rolls but bread. life changing

-yellowjackets deserve more credit as effective pest killer even though their lil cunts

-I like that moles are trending from a joke bc I get pure serotonin when I see them they're so cute i wanna cry

-devon palmer is the funniest dude on tiktok imo I laugh uncontrollably over his skits and shit

-September is also Halloween sry but Xmas enjoyers already butt in during Halloween month proper so idgaf

[luminarily]

these people are nuts. it's obviously the dad in the wrong and they're all blaming the mother. is this misogyny or what

[ktwritesstuff]

The Professor (Pedro Pascal smut inspired by SNL)

Title: The Professor Fandom: RPF: Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Pedro Pascal (professor of Latin American Studies) x Reader (bedraggled PhD candidate) Word Count: ~2000 Summary: As if that SNL skit wasn't going to launch a thousand smut fics... As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes below the cut.

Notes: This is my first "real person fic," may God have mercy on my soul. Additionally, my Spanish is virtually non-existent; I've relied heavily on Google Translate and asking my coworkers questions on the sly, my apologies for any errors! As we all know, this is not a story about actual human Pedro Pascal, but the fictionalized version which lives rent free in our heads. And as proper fan girl culture dictates, we keep this shit locked down. But just in case:

This note is for actual human Pedro Pascal and Pedro Pascal only. I don't know why you would click "Read More" on a post clearly labeled "Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU" but if you have, I beg of you LOOK AWAY, SIR. LOOK AWAY. If you choose to proceed, I will not be responsible for any trauma you may suffer as a result. Thank you.

For everyone else, I give you:

The Professor

Professor Pedro Pascal was the head of the Latin American Studies department at your small college.  You had never been in his classes as an undergrad–Latin American Fiction and Poetry, and a special seminar on the Magical Realism of Isabel Allende–but it was well known around campus that his family had fled Pinochet when he was a child, which granted him unsurprising street cred among your communist-leaning circle of friends.  He had been appointed the interim director of the campus’s Literary Center–after his predecessor was ousted for exposing himself in a virtual meeting. 

As the Center’s Graduate Assistant Director, it meant although he wasn’t technically your boss, you were suddenly spending an annoying amount of time working around the throngs of freshman girls who flocked to his office hours.  You couldn’t really blame them.  He was, if not an outright heartthrob, a reasonably good-looking college professor.  A strong face, with a short, rugged beard, a striking Roman nose, and deep brown eyes with the most charming crow's feet.  He had a lean physique, with a hint of softness at the belly, just this side of a “dad bod.”

His modest good looks combined with a cheerful disposition and a penchant for quoting the love poetry of Pablo Neruda were like catnip for liberal arts majors.  And although you were a card-carrying bra-burning feminist, you weren’t entirely immune.

“Professor,” his office door was open, but you knocked on the frame.  

Pedro looked up from the stack of resumes you had been sent to review before the selection panel for a new director.

“Coffee?”

“Mi angelita,” he sighed, rising from his desk to graciously accept the warm cup from your hands.  “What time is the first candidate arriving?”

“Noon,” you said.  “You, me, Dr. Monroe, the Provost, and Assistant Dean are sitting on the interview panel.”

Pedro looked at his watch.  

“Shit,” he sighed.  “I have Intro to Creative Writing at 9:30.”

“I’ll set up the conference room,” you said as he shoved his papers into his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, still carrying the open mug as he raced down the stairs.  

“Thank you, Angel.  Thank you!”

It was a six month process to find a new director.  Six months of staring across the conference table, chewing on the end of your pen, pretending not to be affected by the way he leaned in when you spoke and stroked his thumb across his lower lip in concentration.  Or the obscene way he spread his legs in a comfortable chair while speaking with candidates in front of a panel of students.  

And having to do it all over again when your first choice–a student favorite–declined the position, to stay in New Jersey of all things.  You knew Pedro was relieved to have reached a conclusion; he didn’t care for the administrative duties or politics.  He wanted to teach, to be with his students.  You admired that about him, he appreciated your organizational skills (and the fact that when you made coffee it counted as a meal.)  You worked well together, but now that was coming to an end. 

It was past 9pm and you had already closed up the Literary Center for the night, but Pedro was still in his office, reviewing students’ papers.

“I’m done for the night, Professor,” you said.  “Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

“That depends,” he said, with a wry smile that had you convinced he was only half-kidding.  “How’s your Spanish?”

“Hmm,” you said, stepping into the light of the desk lamp.  “¿Dónde está la biblioteca? ¿Como estas?  Bien, gracias.  ¡Qué lluvia!  And that’s all I’ve got.”

Pedro chuckled.  “I’ve heard worse.”

“That and un tequila, por favor.”

“Tequila,” Pedro repeated, intrigued. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of Patron.  “That I can help you with.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Professor,” you deadpanned.  “I don’t know if you knew this, but alcohol is not permitted in academic buildings.”

"Lucky for me," he said, picking up the bottle. "I have tenure."

You laughed and Pedro laughed; you offered to run downstairs to retrieve a pair of glasses and a salt shaker from the kitchen while he finished grading papers in record speed.

“I worry about these kids,” Pedro said, three shots deep.  “I do!  The moment they hear something the least bit troubling, they refuse to engage with the material.  Our world exists in shades of gray.  They want things to be ideologically pure, when what they need is to learn to discern.  To question.  To decide!”

“I understand what you’re saying, Professor,” you said. 

“Pedro, please,” he interrupted you.  “Pedro.”  

“Pedro,” you repeated.  “I agree, but there’s no reason we need to elevate and spotlight the same tired canon of bigots, abusers, and dead white men year after year when there is so much more out there.”

Pedro downed another shot and pointed an accusing finger at you.  

“Look who’s talking,” he said.  “Your PhD is in Shakespeare Studies!”

“I know,” you laughed, pouring yourself another glass.   “I know, I’m a terrible person.”

“You are not,” he said, suddenly serious.  “You have an incredible mind and the most beautiful way of looking at the world.”

You felt languid and relaxed and warm.  You liked the way Pedro looked at you.  There was something undeniably romantic about getting drunk in the richly furnished office, with its leather armchairs and oak bookshelves, debating the merits of Nietzsche and bell hooks.   

“Okay,” you broke the silence.  “Okay, here’s a fun fact you can pass along to your successor.  There are 3 prints signed by Allen Ginsberg in this building, and you can see them all from this desk.”  

“There’s the one on the wall,” Pedro said, pointing to the framed portrait hanging above the bookshelf.  

“Yes,” you said, rising from your chair and moving to the other side of the desk.  “And there in the hallway, on the right, that's an excerpt from "Howl" they set in the printshop downstairs.”

You perched on the arm of his chair to get closer to his eye-level, pointing through the open door.  You slipped, nearly falling into his lap and he placed a hand on your back to steady you.  He smelled amazing, like old leather and warm spices.  

“And there, in the stairwell, you can just make out the top of his head on that linotype,” you explained.  “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

When you turned your head, Pedro was looking at you.  Perhaps it was the tequila, but you were almost certain he was staring at your lips, his eyes heavily lidded, smiling lazily.

“You look tired,” you warned.  You should have gotten up to leave, but you didn’t want to.  You didn’t want this warm, lovely feeling to ever end.  

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?” 

“Kissing you,” he said.  

You were almost surprised; you had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that your semester-long flirtation was a one-sided puppy crush.  You had been so busy with your research and recruiting and planning, you had forgotten somewhere along the way that you were a stone cold fox with tits and ass for days and enough sex appeal to blow the top off Mount St. Helens.

“You can,” you said, turning your body toward him.  “I don’t mind.” 

“I shouldn’t.”

“Fine then,” you turned to stand.

Pedro seized you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and into a long, slow kiss.  His lips were surprisingly soft and his mouth tasted like salt and lime as his tongue brushed into yours with careful, confident strokes.  

“That was nice,” your eyes fluttered open as Pedro finally pulled away.  “You’re a good kisser.”

“You, too,” Pedro said.  “Again?”

You tilted your chin, touching the point on your neck, just below your ear.  As Pedro leaned in, working the beginnings of a hickey into your neck, you guided his hands from your waist to your breasts.  You pressed against him, moving to straddle his thigh.

“More?” Pedro asked.

“Yes,” you panted. You braced yourself on the back of the chair, one hand on either side of his head, grinding against his leg, feeling hot and wet as he kneaded your breasts with reverent appreciation.

“Mi amor,” he breathed.

“Pedro,” you held his face, nipping at his bottom lip.  

“Dime, lo qué quieres.”

“Fuck.”  His accent went straight to your cunt.  You ran one hand up his thigh, groping at the crotch of his chinos. 

Pedro let out an obscene moan and hoisted you up onto his desk.  He slid his hands up your thighs, fingers slipping into your panties.  He ran his fingertips through your folds, tracing circles around the swollen nub of your clit with an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Qué lluvia.”

You howled with laughter.  “I know that one!  I know that one!” 

“A huevo.”   

Pedro rose from his chair, bunching your dress up around your waist.  You pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, running your hands up the warm skin of his back.  

“Want you,” you sighed.  “Want you inside me.”         

“Whatever you want, Angelita.”  

Pedro pulled your underwear down to your ankles, pausing to retrieve a condom from the wallet in his back pocket, like an over-eager undergrad, pulling down his pants to roll it on.  He pressed the head of his cock against your clit.  You grabbed him by the ass, wrapping your legs around him to guide him into you.  

Pedro flicked his hips into you with short, quick strokes, sending jolts of energy through your core.

“More,” you pleaded breathlessly.  “Deeper.”

Pedro lifted your ankles onto his shoulders, pressing into you long and slow until you could feel him bumping against your cervix.  You gasped, reaching behind you, scrambling for leverage, knocking the computer monitor off the desk.

“Oh no!” You turned, trying to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“It’s okay!” Pedro said, taking your face in his hands to guide your gaze back to his eyes.  “It’s a shitty computer.  It’s fine.”

You moaned, letting your head fall back, grabbing for his chest with one hand as he fucked you.

“So soft,” he moaned against your ear.  “So fucking good for me, Angel.”  

“Give me your hand,” you said, guiding his fingers back to your clit.  “Up and down, right there.  Oh God.”  

You grabbed Pedro’s shoulder to brace yourself.  

“I’m close,” he warned.

“Not yet,” you pleaded.  “Just a little more.”  

You could feel your own climax building inside you.  You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.  

“Oh God!”

Pedro came inside you with a gasp as your inner walls clenched around him.  He slowly withdrew, supporting your legs, and easing you onto your back, scattering papers and pens onto the floor.  He kissed your neck and your breasts as his hands explored the curves of your body. 

You woke the next morning on the couch in Pedro’s office.  You were lying on top of him; your head on his chest.  He had his arms around you, your head was pounding as you squinted into the daylight.

“We got fucked up last night?” you said.

“Yup.”  

“It was nice."

"It was," Pedro agreed, kissing the top of your head as you blinked sleep from your eyes. 

"What time is it?”

You grabbed his forearm, turning it so you could look at the face of his watch.  

“Oh shit,” you gasped.  “I have Freshman Seminar in half an hour.”

“I already missed my morning classes,” Pedro moaned, letting his head fall back against the armrest. 

“Do you want to explain to Dr. Monroe why I can’t teach her class?” you said, rising from the couch and searching the office floor for your underpants.

“No,” Pedro said.  “She scares me.”  

You pulled your underwear back on, finding your bag, you used the satin scarf tied around the handle to cover the love-bites blooming on your throat and chest.  You dabbed concealer under your eyes and added a fresh coat of red lipstick.  

“Would you like to have lunch together? Not at the Caf. Somewhere nice, like a date.” Pedro asked, sitting up.  He looked endearingly child-like with his bedhead and giant brown eyes.  

You paused, checking your reflection in your compact mirror.  

“Can we do that?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not,” he said.  “You were never my student and after this week we won’t even work together any more.”

“Oh,” you nodded.  “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll pack things up here and meet you after class.”  

You smiled.  “I’ll see you then.”