#Revelation on the E3

[correctrvbquotes]

Sarge: Son. You can insult me, you can ambush me, you can even take away my weapons. But if you think I'm going to set one single pinky toe inside Blue Base without my “shotgun”, you must not know who you're dealing with.

Washington: I said move.

Sarge: And I said “shotgun”.

Washington: Yes... I have your shotgun.

Sarge: No, I mean, “shotgun”.

Washington: What is this? You think I'm going to give you back your shotgun because you asked?

Sarge: I said “shotgun”! Faces the wall “Shotgun”, damn it!

Grif: (From behind the wall) Oh, yeah! Shotgun. That's my cue.

Washington: What? Wait, what're you up to? What is that noise? Do I hear a...

Suddenly the wall explodes into pieces as the Warthog bursts straight through it, with Grif behind the wheel! Sarge quickly dives out of the way, but Wash is taken completely by surprise.

Washington:...CAR?!?

The Warthog smashes right into him and drags him under the bumper.

Grif: How’s my bumper taste, asshole?!

Washington sticks his hand over the front of the Warthog

Grif: Uh oh!

With some effort and a near slip, Wash pulls himself onto the bonnet and raises his battle rifle.

Grif: Oh, no!

Grif ducks down sideways behind the dashboard as Wash opens fire, shattering the windscreen.

Grif: Yikes!

Quickly Grif slams his foot onto all six pedals at once and the Warthog swerves round sideways, launching Wash off the bonnet and across the valley. As he flies, Wash tosses his rifle aside and draws out the shotgun, but as he passes a large boulder, Sarge snatches the gun back from him in midair.

Washington: Huh?!

Sarge: See? Told you I’d get it back.

Washington crashes into a pile of Fusion Coils. Grif drives to the rock Sarge was standing on and Sarge hops in the passenger seat.

Grif: How ‘bout next time we use a code word, we choose something you don’t say every five seconds?

Sarge: Just drive, numbnuts.

Washington staggers to his feet, dazed, as Grif drives in a big circle and heads towards him. Sarge stands up from the “shotgun seat”, and aims his shotgun one handed at Washington.

Sarge: Agent Wash...

Washington: Son of a bitch.

Sarge: You just got-

Fires his shotgun and sets off the Fusion Coils, blowing up everything

Sarge: Ah, damn it. I messed up my one-liner!

[livelydiver]

Can't stop thinking about the moment in S2 E3 when Stede confronts Izzy about what happened to Ed --

Izzy: "He was a wild dog, and we dealt with him like one."

Stede, without missing a beat: "You sent him to doggy heaven?" 😔

!!! That flash of a moment, when you see Izzy *realize* -- Stede knows about "doggy heaven," which means Ed told him, not just about the murder/identity-stealing plan but every detail of how Izzy and Ed had discussed it in confidence -!! The mental rearranging Izzy must have to do in that moment, the depth of trust between Ed and Stede implied by that casual revelation (and typical Con O'Fuckin'Neill managing to convey ALL that in one devastating expression...)

Meanwhile Stede's over there like "Awww, Id :(" thinking "doggy heaven" is still just regular ol' pirate slang, what a fucking masterpiece

[justa-moth]

fun charles rowland fact!

So I was going back through the show and trying to get some gifs of Charles, and I found out something interesting!

I was going back to get a silly funny clip of that ghost guy's head blowing up in E3, and I realized something that I have no idea how I didn't pick up before.

Charles is left handed!

Which I was like, wow! Cool! I don't know how I didn't pick up on that the first time around because I usually get excited over small character details like that, but whatever, right?

(putting the rest of my revelation under a cut lol)

And then on my continuation of said gif quest, I was getting a clip of Charles pulling his cricket bat out at Esther's in E1.

He pulls out his cricket bat and attacks with it with his right hand.

Then I was like, oh cool! He writes with his left, but attacks with his right, that's sick.

But then I wanted to go back to moments I remembered Charles using his cricket bat/other weapons, just to see, and I found out something even more interesting (at least to me).

During both instances in E1 where they have to fight someone, both the WWI ghost and Esther (the gif earlier), Charles uses his right hand for weapons, while drawing the demon sigil with his left (though he does use his right to set the paint brush down at the very end).

(When he cuts the mask off the ghost in their office he does use his left hand, but I'm not counting that because he was physically incapable of grabbing the knife with his right hand at that moment.)

However, despite the two instances of him using his right hand for combat purposes in E1, he seems to use his left in every other instance I can find.

Here's some examples (mainly bc I wanna show off my collection):

(From left to right: Facing the Cat King in E2, Bludgeoning the Night Nurse in E4, Fighting David in E6, and Fighting Esther's Snake in E8) (I didn't mean for these all to be even numbers, I swear 😭😭)

Anyway, when I first was making this post I thought I was gonna find a cute fact out about Charles being ambidextrous fighting wise, but the fact that the only instances I can find of him using his right hand are in E1 is throwing me off.

Did the show originally plan to just have it be "Charles writes with his left and fights with his right" and that be it, but then realize it would be better if he just only ever used his left?

I don't know if that's the case, but I choose to run off with my original "he just uses whichever hand he feels like" theory and running away with it as a headcanon until someone proves me otherwise.

Anyway though, I hope you all found this ramble of a post informative in some kind of way hsdfhkld

[ghoulsbounty]

Hi hi! I hope you're doing good!!

I have a fic request for all of Walton Goggins characters you write for from your request guidelines as a mini snapshot of each of them. (Length completely up to you)

I was watching The Shield...specifically S5 E3 - Jailbait @ 38:53 👀 where Shane (Walton) is enjoying a sexy time and the way he said "I'm gonna cum" has been swimming in my mind since lmaoo.

How would each of his characters dirty talk and tell their partner they're gonna orgasm (creampie preferably) ? 🥵🥵

Thank you so much for the amazing fics. I'm so happy to read each and every word you've written 🥹

Dirty Talk Headcanon

Summary: Things they say to you when they're about to cum.

Characters: Lee Russell, Wade Felton, Baby Billy Freeman, Boyd Crowder and Cooper Howard/The Ghoul.

Warnings: smut (18+), swearing, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, porn without plot, dirty talk, praise kink, cum eating, oral, degradation, control, pet names, multiple orgasms, light dumbification, mirror sex, light nipple play, light sub/dom, possessiveness, cumflation, squirting, slight corruption kink, humiliation, wet & messy, fingering, one small mention of a cheek (face) slap.

Word Count: approx 1k per character

A/N: I enjoyed writing this far too much! I wrote headcanons for dirty talk as a whole (hope that's okay) including orgasms + creampie 🥵Thank you for sending my first headcanon for all the Walton characters I currently write for! I'd love to do more (hint, hint)

Lee Russell - inside or outside the bedroom, he likes to degrade and insult you. will sprinkle in the odd pet name or backhanded praise. his neediness shows when he's about to cum. his favourite thing is the taste of you both together. 

"Didn't I tell you I'd get my hands on you, one way or another?" Lee growled into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. He shoved you further into the rough brick wall of the supply closet, the cold, unforgiving surface scraping painfully against your cheek. Each thrust was forceful, driving you deeper into the corner. Your body responded involuntarily, your cunt clenching tightly around him. The wet, lewd sounds of your bodies colliding echoed through the confined space, mingling with your panting breaths and his guttural moans.

"You slut," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt as he leaned back to gaze at the intimate junction of your bodies. "You're making such a fuckin' mess on my dick. You really have no shame, huh?" His eyes darkened with lust and a twisted sense of satisfaction. Your moans filled the air as his fingers circled your stretched and filled hole, collecting the slick juices there. Without warning, he brought his glistening fingers to your lips and pushed two digits inside, swirling them around your tongue. "Taste good, baby?" he taunted, his gaze never leaving yours, revelling in your submission.

He seized your chin between his wet fingers, pinching slightly as he brought your mouth to his, tasting you deeply. His tongue explored with a hunger that made you shiver. Drawing back, he savoured your essence on his lips, groaning in satisfaction. "Fuckin' delicious, my favourite taste," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He gave your cheek a light smack, the sound sharp in the confined space, before planting both hands flat against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. "But it'll be even better with both of us," he promised, his breath warm and heavy on your skin.

He pounded into you with relentless force, hissing into your ear as you tightened around him. "So hungry for me, aren't you?" he growled, his voice a dangerous rumble. His hips snapped with a brutal, unyielding rhythm, each thrust more powerful than the last. A whine escaped his throat when you ground back against him, matching his fast pace with your own desperate movements.

"You can act as angelic as you want out there," he continued, his tone dripping with a mix of lust and dominance, "but with me, you're just begging to be filled, aren't you?" His words sent a shiver down your spine, the truth in them igniting a fire within you. He dropped his hands from the wall and gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove into you with unwavering intensity.

You felt yourself nearing the edge once more at his unfaltering pace. The combination of his relentless rhythm and the intoxicating dominance in his voice pushed you closer and closer to the brink. You could feel his breath hot against your ear, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaned in closer.

"Admit it," he demanded, his voice a seductive command. "Admit how much you love this, how much you need me."

When you did, he smiled smugly, his lips curling with sadistic satisfaction. One hand snaked down to your front, fingers dancing teasingly along your mound before circling your throbbing clit. You rutted against his thick digit, desperately seeking the friction. His grin widened against the skin of your shoulder, feeling your muscles quake beneath his touch.

"Let me have it," he murmured, the words sounding almost like a request but carrying the weight of direction. As you reached the peak of your climax, your body gushed around his shaft, your orgasm fierce and overwhelming. He continued to fuck you through it, his thrusts unrelenting, driving you deeper into ecstasy.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, whispering against your skin, "Always cum so hard for me, don't you? You filthy whore. Fuck, I love it." His words sent another wave of pleasure crashing through you, your body responding to the combination of his rough thrusts, degrading praise and soft kisses.

Your ass clapped loudly against his thighs as he slammed your limp body back onto his cock, his grip now firm on your hip. His hips stuttered, breath catching in his throat before he thrust into you one final time. White spurts of hot cum painted your walls and spilled from you, a primal groan escaping his lips. "F-fuck, that's it, take everything I'm giving you. Look at this greedy fuckin' cunt," he cursed under his breath, mesmerized by the sight of your mixed fluids dripping down his length.

When he had emptied himself completely inside you, he dropped to his knees, spreading your cheeks apart with his fingers. He dived between your messy folds, licking and sucking at the creamy mixture. His moans vibrated against you as he cleaned you thoroughly, his tongue delving into every crevice, savouring the taste of your combined releases.

Your body trembled, the profound sensation of his mouth working you over, driving you wild. You couldn't help but grind against his face, your movements becoming more desperate as he brought you closer to another peak. His fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly in place as he continued his relentless assault with his tongue.

The pleasure was overwhelming, building rapidly until you tipped over the edge into another intense orgasm. Your body convulsed, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as waves of ecstasy crashed through you. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, drawing out every last shudder and twitch of your release.

When you finally came down from the high, your body felt utterly spent and sated. He rose to his feet, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and pride as he looked down at you. "Good girl," he murmured, brushing a tender kiss against your forehead. "Now get out."

Wade Felton - more of a sweet talker than a dirty talker. gives lots of praise, and likes reassurance that he's doing things right. sounds desperate when he cums.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," Wade sighed against your neck, his breath warm and heavy as he pressed tender kisses along your skin. Each thrust was slow and deliberate, his movements drawing out every ounce of pleasure. Your thighs were hooked into the crooks of his arms, giving him leverage to push them higher, allowing him to bury his length even deeper inside you.

Your whimpers filled the room, the sound mingling with the soft slap of skin against skin. Your body trembled beneath him, responding to his careful, intoxicating rhythm. His touch was both gentle and strong, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he moved within you.

"You're taking me so well," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual growl. "Stretching so pretty on my cock. Do you feel good, baby?" His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of lust and tenderness, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

Every movement was deliberate, each thrust designed to heighten your bliss and deepen the connection between you. The room was filled with the scent of your mingled arousal, the air thick with the heat of your passion. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake, his breath hot against your skin.

"Tell me how good it feels," he whispered, his voice vibrating through you. His eyes never left yours, his expression one of adoration and desire. The rhythm of his hips was steady and unyielding, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

When you told him, he smiled against you, his lips brushing your ear. "I love hearing that," he said softly, his pace quickening slightly as he felt you tighten around him. "You have no idea how much."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, amplifying the sensations you felt deep within your core. His thrusts became more insistent, each one driving deeper and harder, pushing you closer to the edge. His hands roamed your body, caressing your skin with in a blend of tenderness and desperation.

"I need you," he groaned, his hips snapping with increasing urgency. "I need you so much. You make me feel so damn good."

Your body responded to his every word and touch, your muscles clenching around him as the pressure built. His name escaped your lips in a desperate plea, your hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

You keen under his praise, your walls clenching in response, and his eyes brightened at the sensation of you tightening around him. "Fuck, what did I do to deserve you?" he murmured, a grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you with admiration. When you giggled, his eyes widened, and his hips stuttered as he groaned at the feel of you vibrating around him. Both the sound and feel of your laughter seemed to ignite something within him.

His hips picked up their pace, rutting into you with renewed strength. You trembled around him, your moans filling the space, each one spurring him on. Your hands grasped his forearm for purchase, feeling the strength and solidity of his muscles as he drove into you. The rhythm of his thrusts grew more fervent, each movement fuelled by a mix of passion and desire.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his voice rough with need. The way your body responded to him, the way you took him so well, drove him wild. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same vigor as his hips moved against yours.

Your moans were muffled by the kiss, your body arching into his as he continued to thrust into you with relentless precision. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, building toward an inevitable crescendo. The connection between you was electric, each touch and sound amplifying the other's desire.

His forearm, solid and reassuring, flexed under your grasp, the muscles taut as he pressed your thigh almost flat to the mattress. His other hand gripped the headboard above you, knuckles white with the force of his hold. "You're incredible," he breathed against your lips, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I can't get enough of you."

"Come for me, darlin'," he begged, his voice a low growl, pace becoming almost frantic. "I need to feel you."

The urgency in his tone, combined with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you, pushed you to the brink. With a final, powerful thrust, you came undone around him, your body convulsing and leaving you breathless. His eyes dropped to your hungry cunt as you creamed around him. The sight of the thick white ring of your release coating his shaft had him pulsing inside you, the visual driving him to the brink. His breath hitched, and his hips stuttered as he struggled to maintain his rhythm.

"Shit, I'm..." he groaned, his voice breaking with the effort. His thrusts became erratic, each one sending shockwaves through your body. The sensation of your walls milking him was too much, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you with a force that made you cry out. "I'm cumming," he panted desperately. "I'm cumming, baby, oh fuck."

Hot spurts of thick cum filled you, his body shuddering with each release. He held you close, his forehead pressed against yours as he rode out the waves of pleasure. The passion of the moment left both of you breathless and his hands gently caressed your skin, grounding both of you as the aftershocks of your climax slowly faded away.

Baby Billy - heavily into praise and encouragement, but with a filthy mouth. the star of his own show - tell him how he makes you feel and pander to that ego. doesn't like to waste a drop.

"That's it, you ride that dick now," he said, his arms stretched along the back of the couch, eyes locked on you as you bounced above him. Your fingers dug into the shoulders of his expensive suit, desperate for purchase as your pace became increasingly sloppy. The familiar surge of heat spread through your body, signalling the approach of your climax.

Your movements became frantic, grinding down on the thick length that filled you completely. The feeling was overwhelming, and you cried out his name, your voice a sweet blend of desperation and ecstasy. As the waves of your orgasm rolled through you, you threw your head back, lost in the intensity of the moment. His hands gripped your hips, helping you ride out the last tremors of your release, his gaze filled with pride and lust as he watched you fall apart above him.

A sly grin tugged at his lips, at the feel of your cunt trying to milk him. "That's my girl," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched you soak his lap. "Baby Billy made you feel good on his ol' dick, huh? Go on, you can tell me."

You nodded, eyes glazed and mouth agape as you dropped into the crook of his shoulder. He kissed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine as your cunt spasmed around him. "That's what I thought, always making you feel good," he murmured, his voice filled with gratification. He secured your arms around his neck, his grip on the flesh of your hips tightening. "Hold on now," he instructed, his tone low and commanding.

With a firm grip, he began to move again, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one making you gasp as he fucked up into you. You whined against him, your body trembling under his control. He lifted you off his length only to slam you back down to meet him at a relentless pace, his surprising strength and rhythm driving you wild.

Your cries grew louder when he encased one of your nipples in his mouth, his hot tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before sucking hard. The feeling was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your fingers tangled in his grey strands, pulling slightly as you sought any anchor in the storm of sensation. He didn't scold you for messing up his perfect style, too engrossed in the act of devouring you with his mouth and body.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared bliss: his low grunts, your high-pitched moans, the wet slap of your bodies coming together. Each thrust, each suck, each flick of his tongue brought you closer to the edge, your body arching and straining against him as you spiralled toward another orgasm.

His mouth left your nipple with a pop, and he drew you back to look at him with a grin. "You giving me another one? Baby Billy got you all worked up, huh?" He teased, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and desire.

His hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing as he admired the way you trembled above him. The connection between you was electric, every touch and glance charged with passion. He resumed his deep, powerful thrusts, each one hitting just the right spot to send a thrill coursing through you.

"Making me feel good, now," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Ain't nothin' better than this right here." His words spurred you on, driving you to move faster, to ride him harder. You could feel the tension building again, a tight coil of pleasure ready to snap.

"Come on, angel, I know you've got it in you," he urged, his hands gripping your hips to help guide your movements. The combination of his thrusts and his words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of ecstasy, you came again, your body clenching and spasming around him.

"That's it," he praised, his voice a low growl as his hips began to stutter. "Oh, here it is," he said, chest heaving as he threw his head back. "I'm cumming, angel, here I cum," he cried, his release following yours as he buried himself deep inside you. He groaned with satisfaction, the sound primal and raw, as he painted your walls with ropes of hot white cum.

The ferocity of his climax made his entire body tense, his grip on your hips tightening as he emptied himself inside you. Each pulse of his release sent shivers down his spine as he stayed buried deep within you, savouring the feeling of your bodies entwined and the warmth spreading between you.

"That's it, sweet girl," he cooed into your ear, his voice shifting from the earlier growl to a tender murmur. The contrast made your heart flutter, the softness of his tone wrapping around you like a warm embrace. You collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling, every muscle relaxed in the aftermath of your intense release.

He pushed you back gently, pulling out with a hiss. "Let Baby Billy see it now," he instructed, and you whined as your cunt gaped, clenching around nothing. His cum leaked out of you, dripping down your thigh and making a mess of his dick. He watched intently, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

Taking two fingers, he ran them up your thigh, collecting the dripping cum before stuffing them back into your cunt to the hilt. "There you go, angel," he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched your body react to his touch. His fingers moved inside you with a practiced rhythm, ensuring none of his cum was wasted. "Don't waste a precious drop."

Your body trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers filling you again. The rawness of his actions left you breathless. He looked up at you, his grin wide. "That's my good girl," he praised, his other hand caressing your thigh. "You take it all so well."

Boyd Crowder - praise, praise, praise! worships the ground you walk on. possessive (will take out the entirety of harlan county for you.) likes to watch you both together.

"Open your eyes," Boyd whispered, his breath hot on your ear. "I want you to see yourself. Just about the best damn thing I ever laid my eyes on," he cooed, his fingers gripping your thighs harder to urge you. When your eyes fluttered open, your breath caught in your throat.

You saw yourself, spread open and exposed on his lap, your back pressed against his chest as his hands held you open and his cock stuffed you full. The chair he sat on creaked under your combined weight as he adjusted himself, slipping further into you until his balls were pressed snugly against your ass. The sight was intoxicating, your bodies joined so intimately, every inch of him buried inside you.

Your gaze caught his over your shoulder in the rustic, floor-length mirror, and he gave a wicked grin. The reflection showed everything—the way his strong, tattooed arms enveloped you, the way your bodies moved together. His eyes were dark with desire, and the possessive gleam in them made your pulse quicken.

"Look how perfect you are," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through to your core. His hands shifted, one moving to play with your clit while the other kept a firm hold on your thigh, keeping you spread open. The combination of his touch and the sight of your intertwined bodies in the mirror sent waves of desire crashing over you.

"Feel that?" he asked, his tone both teasing and reverent as he pressed deeper, eliciting a moan from you. "That's all me, filling you up, making you mine." His hips began to move again, the rhythm slow and deliberate, each thrust designed to draw out your pleasure and make you feel every inch of him.

The sounds of your shared delight, the creaking of the chair, and the wet, rhythmic slaps of your bodies echoed in the room, creating a symphony of passion. As your eyes met his in the mirror once more, you saw the reflection of two people completely lost in each other, bound by the rawness of the moment.

You placed one hand over his, guiding his movements on your clit, while the other snaked around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. He groaned, turning his head to press a hot kiss just below your ear. "Do you like seeing us, baby? Watching yourself come undone on my cock?" He whispered, his voice deep and husky. "Fuck, I love it," he groaned, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips.

The sensation of his fingers on your clit, combined with the sight of your bodies in the mirror, sent heat burning through you. Your grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips trailed along your neck. His breath was hot and ragged against your skin, each thrust driving you both closer to the edge.

"You look so perfect like this," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with both admiration and need. "Damn, I love being inside of you." His hips moved with a deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and powerful, making you feel every inch of him. The chair creaked beneath you, adding to the symphony of sounds that filled the room.

Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, your bliss heightened by the mirror's reflection. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you deepening with every shared glance and touch. "I want you to remember this," he said, his voice a mix of command and desire. "Remember how good we are together. Don't you forget it."

As your climax approached, the pressure of his fingers on your clit and the relentless thrusts of his hips became almost too much to bear. Your breath hitched, your body trembling with the anticipation of release. "Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice a growl in your ear. "Watch yourself cum all over me." With a final, powerful thrust, he sent you spiralling over the edge. Your body convulsed in his arms, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as watched yourself fall apart around him.

The feel of you clenching down on him had Boyd panting, and seconds later he was whimpering against your neck. "Damn, I'm close," he said, his voice breaking with desperation as he rutted up into you. The raw need in his voice made your heart race. "You make me feel so good, baby," he continued, his words a mix of admiration and urgency.

Eyes still fixed on the mirror, your head fell back against his shoulder, your body going limp as you surrendered completely to him. Both his hands now gripped your thighs with bruising ferocity, holding you in place as he drove into you with a relentless rhythm. Each thrust was accompanied by the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, lewd noises filling the room and burning your cheeks.

"Fuck," he groaned, the word drawn out and guttural. His breath was hot against your ear, his chest heaving with effort. "Damn, baby," he cried, his voice strained and desperate. The feel of his cock swelling inside you, the frantic pace of his hips, and the way his entire body seemed to shudder with impending release all combined to push you further into bliss.

He buried himself deep inside you with a final, powerful thrust, his body convulsing as he came. "Fuck, I'm cumming," he cried out, his voice breaking. You felt the hot spurts of his release filling you, mixing with your own arousal.

As he rode out his orgasm, his hands moved to caress your body, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. He held you close, his forehead resting against the side of your head, both of you trembling from the intensity of the experience. Your eyes met in the mirror, both of you sharing a satisfied smile as he remained buried inside your swollen cunt, keeping his seed there.

The connection between you was palpable, a silent understanding passing between you as you basked in the afterglow. The mirror reflected your entwined bodies, the evidence of your shared passion glistening on your skin. He nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft kisses there, his breath warm and comforting.

"Look at us," he murmured, his voice soft and full of wonder. "So perfect together." His fingers continued to trace lazy patterns along your hips and thighs, each touch grounding you further in the moment.

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul - very possessive. teasing/light degradation. praises you for a job well done. his clothes stay on. loves to fill you until he's spilling out.

"You want another one?" he laughed teasingly, looking down at your fucked-out eyes as you trembled beneath him. "I don't think you have it in you, but you're so desperate," he taunted, his own eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and raw desire.

Cooper's gaze trailed to your cunt where he continued to fuck his load into you, white cum drooling from you as he filled you again and again. The sight of his cum spilling out and mixing with your own juices only seemed to spur him on. He revelled in the intense pleasure of filling you to the brim, knowing that he was overwhelming your senses, his cock and his load too much for you to contain. His thrusts remained deep and relentless, each one pushing more of his seed inside you.

"You’re so greedy for it, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Taking everything I give you." His words shot through to your core, your body trembling and on the edge once more despite your exhaustion. His hands gripped your hips painfully, holding you in place as he drove into you with unwavering ferocity.

His teasing laughter filled the shelter. "Look at you," he said, awe and possession in his voice. "You're a mess. You should be ashamed, letting a man like me do this to you." As he continued to move inside you, the heat built again, your body responding eagerly to his every touch and thrust, ready to give him yet another orgasm.

The lewd sounds of your sloppy pussy echoed through the room as he pounded into you, his grunts and moans joining in as you contracted around him. His hand reached down to your clit, pressing a gloved finger hard against the swollen bud. The rough texture sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you.

Your eyes widened, hips rutting against his own in desperate response. The harsh fabric of his clothed body rubbed against your naked skin, the friction intensifying the heat between you. The sensation was a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, pushing you over the edge as your orgasm tore through you.

Your body convulsed, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips as ecstasy overtook you. The spasms of your cunt squeezing around his dick made him groan loudly, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he chased his own release. He didn't let up on your clit, the relentless pressure driving you wild.

"Atta girl," he cooed, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Let it all out." Your cries filled the air, your body arching against him as waves of satisfaction crashed over you and he watched as your pussy gaped and gushed around him once more. A primal look flickered in his eyes, and a crooked smile spread across his handsome face as he buried himself deeper inside you. "Gonna keep you full," he promised, his voice a low, possessive growl.

Cooper's thrusts became slow and deliberate, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your overstimulated body. His hand pressed against your lower abdomen, feeling the slight bulge where he was buried deep inside you. "You take me so well," he murmured, pride and desire burning in his eyes. "A real vision," he sighed, pushing further into you.

He wanted to leave no doubt that you belonged to him, that he could push you to the brink and bring you back again and again. The feeling of being so completely filled, so utterly claimed, sent waves of ecstasy through you.

"Doing good, sweetheart," he said, his voice softening slightly as he leaned in to kiss you. The contrast between his tender words and his rough actions made the moment even more intoxicating. "Gonna keep you full and satisfied," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours as he worked himself towards his release.

His hand tightened on your hips, ensuring you took every inch of him as he continued to thrust with unrelenting fervour. Your tits bounced with each movement, your mouth hanging open in sheer ecstasy. The sight of your body responding to him, of your cunt clenching and dripping around his dick, drove him to push harder, deeper.

"You gonna take it?" he panted, his thrusts becoming desperate. You nodded, whimpering as you bit down on your lip. "Fuck, take it. Take my cum," he moaned, his voice thick with lust.

His cock pulsed inside you, releasing hot spurts against your walls. The sensation was staggering, the warmth spreading through you as it overflowed, mixing with his previous load and your juices. You felt overstimulated and full, and you watched Cooper as he gazed at the slight bloat of your stomach, his eyes filled with primal satisfaction at the sight of you so thoroughly filled with his cock and seed.

His hand moved to rest on your belly, gently pressing down as if to emphasize the fullness. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a heady blend of awe and possessiveness. "So full of me."

The combined fluids soaked both of you as they trickled out, creating a slick, messy connection between you. His hands caressed your hips, fingers trailing along your skin, smearing the wetness as he admired the aftermath of you together.

He steadied himself above you, his breaths ragged and uneven. The heat of his body pressed against yours, a thin layer of sweat glistening over your skin. His eyes remained locked on yours, filled with pride.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softening as he leaned down to kiss you gently. "Completely mine." His hands roamed your body, soothing and comforting as you both came down from the high. 

[allgremlinart]

Mako character model and thumbnails, TLOK Book 1: Air, E3 The Revelation

[jtl07]

jt (finally) watches warrior nun - s1 e8 (pt 1?)

Gonna leave my criticisms out of this post (not a lot but some key ones, namely how the scenes were cut grr) but gosh, watching the scenes with Sister Melanie’s story and Beatrice’s revelation just hit different when seen in context.

There’s so much I could say about this episode and even those two scenes alone (I'm also considering a second post about touch) but the main thing I want to talk about here is Beatrice’s revelation - how that was set up and also adding a layer from an Asian perspective.

So I’ve mentioned before that I’ve seen clips of these scenes already, but again, I hadn’t seen it in context of the other episodes - or even this episode as a whole. What struck me initially was how Beatrice’s revelation is set up and how much of KTY’s physicality plays into this (Alba's as well, but I'm going to focus on Beatrice here).

When Beatrice first explains that Sister Melanie was a lesbian, not only do we get Beatrice doing this little nervous rocking and that small, tight smile, but she also angles her head away from Ava, as if not wanting Ava to see her face - and maybe even so she didn’t have to see Ava either. But that changes as the story goes on.

(first, when Beatrice starts reading, she's angled away; soon after, she's angled differently)

Yes, there’s probably camera reasons for this, and yes, it’s also because she’d turned the page, but I couldn’t help but notice that this coincides with Beatrice reading the lines “I let him see it; I wanted him to” - and what that immediately made me think was maybe, just maybe, there was a part of Bea that also wanted Ava to see: to see her.

And she gets what she - perhaps subconsciously - wants in Ava calling her out. Which is a tense but beautiful moment in itself. And I have to fall back to e3 and how the cafeteria scene and the hallway scene really built the foundation for these future interactions. The way I see it, Beatrice has only shown Ava kindness - yes, she may have been stern initially in the cafeteria but even that was framed as advice, as Beatrice helping Ava. But now all of a sudden, Beatrice has turned on her, cutting her down in a way Ava’s never experienced from her before, and Ava knows something’s wrong.

And the the thing is, calling someone out like that is an act of vulnerability too. It shows a knowing of the other person, and also a hope, a trust in the other person - “hey I’m on your side, but you’re hurting me; I want to help, but you’ve got to retract the claws.”

And gosh, the way Beatrice physically reels back, as if shocked back into her senses (again, a moment of her being blinded by her emotions, namely anger). To me, I read this as her being shocked, maybe even ashamed by the fact that she’d hurt Ava.

Because for all her skills - deadly and otherwise - Beatrice doesn’t come off as someone who wants to choose the harsh, painful way. When folks are in pain, her instinct is to soothe, comfort, reassure. She’ll choose violence if necessary, but it’s not her first choice. For Beatrice, violence was learned. Which leads me to the line that has got me in a chokehold.

Pain is what made me a sister warrior.

First, can we just take a moment to hold on Beatrice’s expression here? How haunted and hollow she feels here - again, KTY deserves all the props for this scene.

Second and mostly, look at the phrasing of this line. What you’d expect, or what we most commonly hear is this: “Pain is what made me who I am.” But note that Beatrice says instead, “sister warrior” - a role, a title, anonymous, interchangeable. There’s no acknowledgement of self here - in fact, it almost sounds like a hardening of self, a giving up of self. It’s that idea I keep going back to of Beatrice constantly devaluing herself - and we understand here that it’s because of the hate she has for herself, the hate that she learned from the pain she experienced.

The thing is, she didn’t learn this in a vacuum. As in: This was a lesson taught to her by her parents, but was also taught to her parents as well. As in: I couldn’t help but see this from an Asian perspective, how you are punished for being different for things beyond your control, and how desperately, painfully, many Asians try to be “normal.” And how that's taught to you by your parents because they were taught it themselves, either by their parents or by experience. Where the ability to - and success in being able to - conform, “fall in line” often means the difference between life and death.

Let me be clear, I’m not trying to justify Beatrice’s parents actions at all. I’m just trying to add to this the idea that there are also things even bigger than Beatrice and her parents - it’s generational trauma that is literally built into our DNA.

To me, this is why it makes sense that Beatrice goes through such a hard time in s2, grappling with her instinctive choice to save Ava instead of focusing on/keeping to the mission. She’s not only fighting what she’s learned in her lifetime: she has to fight against what has been programmed into her entire lineage. Beatrice says in e7 that she “joined the OCS to save [her] eternal soul” - for many Asians, our ancestors have been told that over and over again by the church. That the only path to rest, to salvation, to peace was sacrifice and pain. And in many cases, that’s been used to continue to manipulate us, to keep us out of places of power, to make us “fall in line” and not buck the status quo. (And note that every time Beatrice has done any of these things, she has suffered heavily for it.)

But this is also what makes Ava’s response all the more meaningful. By telling Beatrice not to hate herself, she’s helping stop and undo what is likely generations of pain - and likely for the very first time. “Don’t hate what you are,” Ava says, and I couldn’t help but also hear: “Don’t hate what brought you here.” Because yes, all of that programming is unhealthy and horrible but it also is what kept Beatrice - and the generations before her - alive. And just because she’s flipping the script doesn’t mean she’s being disloyal to what they’ve done for her. Instead, it’s a way to honor them, and to honor herself.

Perhaps also this is why Beatrice has such a proud smile at the end of the episode when Ava proclaims herself as the last warrior nun. In a way, the warrior nuns have a similar history of “generational” trauma, full of pain and unfulfilled lives. And here too, as with Beatrice, Ava refuses to let it continue for her own self. It’s both a “let it end with me” and a “let it begin with me” - let the pain, hatred, and death end with me; let the healing, love, and life begin with me.

Okay I'm going to end this here because it just gets me emotional to think about all of this - lmk if y'all have other thoughts, otherwise I'll continue pondering a part two.

[never-knows-best-yo]

I hadn't seen past the 1st season of Magia Record: PMMM Side Story until 2 days ago. I played Magia Record a shitload back before it got pulled from NA (guess who my favorite character was). I also started to watch the show with a very close friend, but while waiting for season 2 we grew apart and although I still see him it's only once every two years. It looks like it'll be a long time before I see him again, if I ever do at all. To comfort myself I decided to start marathoning the show, and I'm on S3 E3. And holy shit everything is so fucked. I have to quit watching now because it's late and tomorrow is the start of my work week, but just got a lot of big revelations and Touka and Nemu are definitely waaay worse than I originally thought, and Mifuyu and Momoko pulling that power play at the end was super unexpected and sad. Continuing on with episode 3 tomorrow night, and honestly I have no idea what to expect, but I still can't wait to see how this all plays out.

[hopepaigeturner]

The Woes of Little Sophie Beckett

CONTEXT:

Here comes the big boy...

Episode 4 contains most of the flashbacks occur. This particular set of scenes are like Simon’s flashback in S1E2.

Episode 4 is the episode where Sophie starts working for the Bridgertons. It is where we get to know Sophie better, and where Sophie is trying to settle into London life.

A key cinematic theme in this chunk is the image of people stepping away from Sophie.

IMPORTANT: We do not see Araminta/Rosamund/Posy clearly. We, as the audience, should not know about the Penwood connection...yet. (It’s not much of a ‘plot twist’ for book readers, but I think the revelation of Araminta as Lady Penwood could be played a little for drama).

The flashbacks start from the end of E3.  

✨Flashback:✨

Part 1

The episode opens with a continuation from E3 flashback. Of little Sophie in front of an imposing man—who steps away from her with a frown.

“What must be done, must be done. Give her a room in the nursery.”

Then we see short flashes of Sophie growing up. Sophie sneaking into the study and showing a picture she has drawn; Sophie standing next to her governess and handing him a neatly handwritten sheet of paper—all met with a stony silence. Sophie exploring the grounds on her own, making friends with pinecones. Sophie running along high-ceilinged rooms—her small frame dwarfed by the imperious golden frames on the walls. Sophie ensconced in servants life: cooking in the kitchen and playing in the stable yard. But still no smile from her father.

Part 2:

Then we get the scene from the book where Sophie is waiting for Araminta. The camera is still from Sophie’s POV, so we see things on her level— to match her stature. So, we do not see the faces of others.

Ten-year-old Sophie is standing off to the side in the shadows as the Earl and Araminta greet all the servants, their words muted. At her skirts are Rosamund and Posy. The camera focuses on Sophie who fiddles with her fingers.

“And here is Minny, the kitchen maid—the last of the staff.”

The young girl bobs a curtsey.

“Your ladyship.”

“Good to meet you.”

The Earl turns to his new wife.

“Now, I am sure Mrs Gibbons will show you the rest of the house.”

“That would be delightful my Lord,” the new Lady Penwood says.

Sophie fiddles more, biting her lip.

There is a cough, which catches the Earl’s attention. Mrs Gibbons notions with her head towards Sophie. The Earl turns and does a double-take.

“Oh Sophia, ofcourse. Come here.”

Sophie gives a nervous smile—ofcourse he hadn’t forgotten her. She walks up to her new mother, fiddling with her fingers but with hope in her eyes.

“My dear, allow me to introduce my ward, Miss Sophie Beckett. Her father was a great friend of mine.”

“Your ladyship.”

Sophie curtsies as her governess taught her, even though her governess is nowhere in sight. Sophie rises and gives her new mother her best smile—one full of teeth. The camera remains focused on Sophie.

“I see.”

Lady Penwood steps away. Sophie’s smile falters.

A swish of skirts.

“Mrs Gibbons, we should commence the tour.”

“Ofcourse your Ladyship, this way.”

All we see is Sophie’s falling face as the woman strides away, her two daughters following behind.

“You are all dismissed!” the Earl calls then strides off.

The hall empties, Sophie looks around but only finds herself alone...

Part 3:

Next scene, a snapshot of Sophie sat on her bed in the nursery hearing some clattering of Posy and Rosamund.

“Sophia! Supper!”

Sophie runs, eyes alight at another chance. Her face falls once again to see the empty table.

“Your stepsisters are merely tired,” her governess says. Sophie nods.

The next morning Sophie stands by her desk, fiddling with her fingers without a smile as Lady Penwood introduces her children. We are still at Sophie’s perspective, so all we see is from the bodice/waist down from adults.

“This is my eldest Rosamund, she is eleven, a very gifted girl. And here is my daughter Posy who is ten.”

“Ah, like Miss Sophia.”

“Indeed. I suppose you have been teaching Miss Beckett?”

“Yes, she is very proficient in mathematics and Latin, and speaks French beautifully.”

“I see.”

A stony silence. Sophie might not understand—but the audience does.

 “I think my children would like to see the gardens, Miss Timmons.”

“Ofcourse you Ladyship. Sophia, put down your arithmetic—”

“Not Miss Beckett. I wish to have a word with her. Alone.”

Sophie’s head shoots up.

Miss Timmons looks a little wary but curtsies.

“Ofcourse, your Ladyship. Rosamund, Posy, come with me.”

The door clicks shut.

The sound of Araminta’s shoes click across the floor.

Click

Clack

Sophie fiddles with her hands, eyes transfixed.

Click.

Clack.

Lady Penwood crouches down.

And finally we are revealed who Lady Penwood is. (Either ‘Lady Cowper’ or the new actor whose been introduced). Regardless, she is a beautiful woman with a saccharine smile.

“I know who you are.”

Sophie blinks at Araminta’s smile.

“You are nothing but the bastard child of a whore.”

Sophie flinches as if slapped. Araminta continues with a little snarl,

“Now, the Earl seems intent on keeping a runt like you, but I oversee this household now, so let us make one thing clear. You might live at Penwood Park, you might be paraded around in pretty dresses and given education as if you were a real daughter, but you are nothing.” Araminta pinches Sophie’s chin which causes her to whimper. “From now on you will be silent. You will not address me unless I address you. You will not consort with my children and must do whatever they command. For my daughters are now the daughters of the house and thus are above a mongrel like you. You must never forget who you are—a bastard who is not fit to breathe the same air as the likes of myself and my daughters. Do you understand me?”

Sophie whimpers, Araminta pinches harder.

“Do you understand me?”

Sophie nods.

“Good.”

Araminta lets go of Sophie’s chin. The saccharine smile returns. She picks up the book that Sophie had been reading—a book of fairytales.

“I suppose you might have thought I would be a fairytale stepmother, like in the stories?”

Sophie merely trembles.

Araminta throws the book on the ground.

“Remember this carefully, Sophie. In this world, bastards of noblemen and servants do not get dreams or a happily ever after. They get what they deserve—nothing.”

Then, with a swoosh of skirts Araminta walks away.

The final shot is a teary-eyed Sophie.

The shot transitions into the present. A grown Sophie fiddles with her fingers in the same manner as she waits to meet Violet Bridgerton…

*~*~*~*~*~*

A key part of this set of flashbacks is to inform the audience of Sophie's motivation.

It shall also serve to inform numerous trauma responses/messages that have been embedded in her mind...

Masterlist

PREV | NEXT

As always I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests!

So, check out the list here, for more of my ideas.

Or check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.

[oddlittlestories]

Okay e3 of d20 completed. Spoilers below.

First off, e2. Riz is honestly kind of a badass?? And that whole exposition we get about like fallen angels or whatever. It makes me wonder if Mr. Gibbons was pushed into Hell or wherever bc of what Arthur did. Not just the shooting him but also the stealing a spot into heaven yk?

Poor Kristin. Her whole faith was kind of overturned bc her god wasn’t anywhere close to what she hoped. She has such an upbeat attitude to it, probably bc she was partially meh on him anyways, but I feel bad.

I think I feel worst for Fabian, having to pretend to be okay so he can feel close to his dad. And his dad isn’t even BAD he just has NO CLUE how to connect with him other than reveling on their exploits. Adaine’s experience ALSO sucks but at least she doesn’t have to pretend things are okay. (Also Gorgug’s parents 😭)

e3 is so funny. It’s SUCH traditional tt rpg bs. Something is a bit or a funny idea so you just do it. Like the clapping.

The dwarf girl getting poisoned killed me. And then the nurse asking if they want to know whether she’ll be okay *right in front of her dad* ooooooofff.

And Gorgug being the scapegoat LMAO!!!!

It reminds me. Years ago. We were joking about how tt rpg characters are always so exceptional. And my DM said, “They’re not exceptional because we’re following them. We’ve chosen to follow the story of these people in particular because they’re exceptional.” And I think that’s true of these characters. Not exceptionality maybe. But we’re following them because they have the drive to find out what’s happening here, to shake things up. Whereas other students are trying to AVOID thrusting themselves into the thick of things.

Also it’s brilliant that they start as level 1. I usually hate level one but making teens be level one is *chefs kiss*.

I wanted to roll right into the drag race so badly but I decided to listen to another podcast instead so I wouldn’t be listening to pods all night since d20 is so long. Which was a Bad Idea because I listened to one that made me sad, and another to recover, so it was a moot point lmao!!!

Anyways I love d20. I am so far behind. 3 out like 72 episodes. Keeping it rolling.

[aquilathefighter]

aquilathefighter's Dreamling Bingo masterpost!

Square E1: MerMay; Swashbuckling Fantasie; Rating: T

Square A2: The New Inn is a temple; Your Faith for Bricks and Dreams for Mortar; Rating: G

Square B2: Bestiality; Ain’t Nothin’ but Mammals; Rating: E

Square C2: Last Kiss; Revelation; Rating: G

Square D2: Volleyball; Need a Little Help?; Rating: T

Square E2: Knife Play; Hunger for the Blade; Rating: E

Square E3: “Why did you do it?”; I just really, desperately want to be your next poor decision; Rating: G

Square E4: Adoption; Earl Grey; or: the Tiny Grey Cat; Rating: G

Square E5: Stripping; Watching You Dance; Rating: E

@dreamlingbingo

[correctrvbquotes]

Cut to the Meta

Simmons: Ok, now's our chance Doc! Hit him with an overcharge. It should overload at least one of his systems.

Doc: Um, you do it.

Simmons: What? Me? I don't even know how to fire that thing.

Doc: Just pull the trigger and let go. It's super easy.

Simmons: No, no, no. You're trained with it. You do it. Go!

Doc: What if I miss?! What if it doesn't do anything but make him mad. I already made him mad once and that really didn't work out really well.

Simmons: We...Well, then we'll improvise.

Doc: Yeah, I don't feel very comfortable with that answer.

They see an explosion in the distance

Doc: What the heck was that?

Simmons: Uh Oh. I just have a bad feeling someone just caused him trouble.

The Meta faces the two as Doc charges the overcharge

Simmons: Oh no, improvise, improvise!!

[bast2013]

E3 - Nightmares & Revelations

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group E Round 4: Hinamatsuri vs Mawaru Penguindrum

#E2: Hinamatsuri

Psychic girl is adopted by Yakuza. Hijinks ensue.

#E3: Mawaru Penguindrum

Sending us penguins will NOT fix our terminally ill sister, but thanks anyways.

Details and poll under the cut!

#E2: Hinamatsuri

Summary:

While reveling in the successful clinching of a prized vase for his collection, Yoshifumi Nitta, a yakuza member, is rudely interrupted when a large, peculiar capsule suddenly materializes and falls on his head. He opens the capsule to reveal a young, blue-haired girl, who doesn't divulge anything about herself but her name—Hina—and the fact that she possesses immense powers. As if things couldn't get any worse, she loses control and unleashes an explosion if her powers remain unused. Faced with no other choice, Nitta finds himself becoming her caregiver.

Propaganda 1:

Hinamatsuri is about…

Hina, who is a psychic metaphor for autism ala Mob but imo better. She’s not only a weirdgirl who’s friends are almost all other strange girls, but she’s also into stuff that is just so either unfitting for her age or she’s just really intense about.

Nitta, who deserves all the fangirls and husbando-ing that every other random guy in anime gets. He’s a bachelor who loves pottery and can cook so well that Hina convinces her friends they have a gourmet chef working for them. He’s also a yakuza and is beloved by the aniki for being incredibly tough and scary. (He is gentle as hell with Hina.)

A bunch of other weird girls (Admin: this part of the propaganda has been cut due to possible spoilers)

Propaganda 2:

Hinamatsuri is an absolutely hilarious anime with some of the best comic timing I’ve ever seen. It’s so funny, the various girls are such nonsense.

Hina starts as a violent blank slate and develops into a lazy greedy horrible little gremlin. Anzu starts as a prideful edgy rival but eventually becomes a wholesome overly grateful insecure mess. Hitomi is forced to become more and more competent, independent, and adult because she can't stand up for herself and say no to people asking her for favors.

Nitta is a fantastic viewpoint character because he outwardly takes so much in stride that it’s easy to forget how annoyed and stressed everything makes him until he snaps.

Trigger Warnings: There is child nudity, but only for a Terminator reference. There is some comedic child neglect and slapstick. There is a child who is homeless, but it’s treated very sensitively.

#E3: Mawaru Penguindrum

Summary:

For the Takakura family, destiny is an ever-spinning wheel, pointing passionately in their direction with equal tides of joy and sorrow before ticking on to the next wishmaker. With their parents gone, twin brothers Kanba and Shouma live alone with their beloved little sister Himari, whose poor health cannot decline any further.

On the day Himari is given permission to temporarily leave the hospital, her brothers take her out to the aquarium to celebrate, where the family's supposed fate is brought forth with her sudden collapse. However, when Himari is inexplicably revived by a penguin hat from the aquarium's souvenir shop, the hand of fate continues to tick faithfully forward.

With her miraculous recovery, though, comes a cost: there is a new entity within her body, whose condition for keeping her fate at bay sends the boys on a wild goose chase for the mysterious "Penguin Drum." In their search, the boys will have to follow the threads of fate leading from their own shocking past and into the lives of other wishmakers vying for the Penguin Drum, all hoping to land upon their chosen destiny.

Propaganda:

Do you like weird artsy stuff? Do you love magical girls? How about weird, messed up character dynamics? Then boy oh boy, Mawaru Penguindrum is the show for you! The show starts out funny enough, but will quickly spiral into an intense and intricate plot, involving fate, the mafia, magical destiny-rewriting spells, and penguins. Which yes, before you ask, the funny penguins are in fact plot relevant.

Penguindrum isn’t really a show about all that stuff though, even though it is. It’s a very symbolic story, about living under the crushing heel of capitalism, and the quiet poison of the societally expected nuclear family dynamic. I could write an essay on each and every single one of the characters, as they’re all given a lot of depth and time to grow. Every character has their own baggage that, one way or another, ties back to someone else. Everyone in this show is connected in some way shape or form, and that’s really highlighted when everything starts to fall apart. Be warned: this show is NOT a light watch! If you’re the type of person who gets really into deciphering symbolism and creating your own meaning from pieces of media, then this show is for you!

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Flashing Lights/Flickering Images, Gender Identity/Sexuality Discrimination, Guns, Incest, Kidnapping, Nudity, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-Con, Smoking, Suicide, Bomb Threats/Attempts and Terrorisim

It’s a very major plot point. This show is HEAVILY based off the 95 Tokyo Sarin Gas Attacks, so if content like that is triggering to you, tread lightly.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form with your revisions, and I’ll consider adapting those changes.

New: Starting round 5, screenshots will be included in the poll post. You can submit screenshots through the form linked above, or through here, via ask or dm.

Guidelines in submitting screenshots:

No NSFW or spoilery images.

Pick some good images please. Don’t send any blurry or pixelated ones.

You may send up to 9 screenshots, but not all may be used.

[littlewestern]

say, what does silver charger think of their taller headlight that got added later

I love this question. Silver Charger, being the domain of the original shovelnoses would be more @greatwesternway's area of expertise, but I can hop in here at least as far as characterization is concerned. If any of the history is wrong, I'm sure she'll be able to correct me lol.

Charger is the youngest of the shovelnoses and had kind of a weird career as far as it goes. In a lot of ways, he's similar to Pioneer, having been designed and built to do one route and then when circumstances changed, getting shuffled around without really having a home to go back to. For Pioneer, this was the result of being the first of his class and the Budd company not realizing how popular their doughty little train would become. He kept getting reassigned because he wasn't built for the kind of demand his presence always seemed to draw, his specs couldn't handle it. It wasn't how he would have envisioned his career going, but he handles it with grace and dignity, as he does all things. If he had it his way, he does wish he was a little bigger so he would have been able to live up to the expectations placed on him, but he's not resentful about it whatsoever.

For Charger, the continual reassignments weren't because he wasn't built for it. In fact, Charger's the odd-man out because he's internally different than all the other shovelnoses, being half an E3 engine on the inside. His reassignments were due to factors outside the Budd company's control, like the US entering WWII and the changes made to the railroading industry as a result. This isn't how Charger pictured his career going either, but so much changed between the Pioneer Zephyr's inception and the time the General Pershing Zephyr went into service, Charger quickly came to understand that no engine's career ends up being what the expect it to be. Where Pioneer handled this revelation with the poise expected of the first in their class, I think Charger would have handled it by... simply trying to be the best at whatever thing he'd been reassigned to. If he couldn't be the best engine on the head of the General Pershing, then he'd be the best engine doing short-haul service on the no. 33 or whatever.

Charger's not resentful either (well, maybe at first when he's New) but he copes with the change by doing his work with as much pomp and ceremony as can be afforded, regardless of how lowly the job might be in reality. In a book we used for our research, one writer characterized Charger's brow as "arrogant", which I think maybe you might assume given the import he gives to all of his trains. Really it's not that he's full of himself, it's more that Charger wants to make all of his jobs seem dignified and refined, and the best way to do that is to treat all of them as though they were The Best, Most Important Job In The World, even if in reality he's just pulling army surplus supplies around fucking Iowa.

But you asked about the lights.

As far as I can tell, the tall headlights became standard on all the shovelnoses around the early-to-mid 1940s, the latest date I can put on any one of them having the original single-lamp model. It stands to reason they all got them around the same time, probably just added on as they went in for regular routine maintenance. For Pioneer, the addition of the taller light was just another sign that his record-setting years in the spotlight were well and truly over. Not that he minded, of course, but (taking the most uncharitable view of things) Pioneer's service life started out very strong and slowly wound down as he suffered a series of scaled-back routes and modifications that helped him remain in service, but definitely meant he would not be doing 112mph between Denver and Chicago again, ever. The light was just another in a long line of indignities one endures getting old. He would have seen it as a mild inconvenience (and a knock against his iconic, streamlined profile) but necessary for him to remain up to par with current railroad safety standards. And safer is a good thing, all told!

And here is where we get to why I had to talk about Charger's personality a bit. Because everything that Charger is and does is the best, most important thing in the world, I actually think he would see his headlight as an upgrade. He's taller now, and oncoming traffic can see him more clearly, which is good when you have a Very Important Train to pull. That he kept his headlight into preservation while Pioneer was restored to his original, single-lamp light in the 90s also sets him apart from Pioneer to museum-goers, and being distinguished is always a plus in the preservation world. (You'd not mistake them for each other for a variety of reasons, but in this racket you take everything you can get.)

Whether or not he actually believes his headlight looks good or bad is immaterial. It's his headlight, and that's what makes it the best.

[nightfall-1409]

I'd love to hear more about Echopaint, please!

Hi Winter <3

this is another one of my wips that been metaphorically in WIP hell...

the premise of it is to give us some connective tissue between the end of S7:E3 and S7:E4. Specifically, inspired by the little bad batch insignia on Echo's cute little armor in 501st blue, about Echo being in the room with Droids and not a medical bay, and ofc also expanding on what was likely a bomb drop of a revelation about why Fives wasn't with them. Combined with some cute interactions between Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair.

“Uhh, Echo?” Wrecker’s rambling had ended, and now he’s close, and Echo blinks as he comes out of where he’d gotten lost in is thoughts, in the hole that is his missing batcher. “Sorry,” He apologizes, one of the only things he can take accountability for.  “Long day,” It’s a copout so terrible he winces. “Yeah, no kidding,” Wrecker bounces on his toes, “I hate being in the labs all day!  Even if they don’t have you doin’ anything, it’s like just the waiting for it makes you tired.” It’s information that slots into Echo’s brain perfectly.  He pieces together it now, when it should have been obvious from the start given how they look. This is a band of experiments. Crosshair seems to be watching, waiting, looming, as though daring Echo to put his foot in his mouth. They don’t know it— because he’s gone now and would never be here with Echo again— but that had been Fives’ job.  Echo’s had been repeating things no one thought worth repeating but himself.  So he’ll do that. “The waiting for it does make you tired,” He echoes, slow.  “It’s the anticipation.  Gets your adrenaline going if you’re expecting something to be bad.” “Aww, you sound like Tech,” Wrecker complains, but Crosshair does noticeably react some.  Echo doesn’t pry.  He doesn’t need to pry.  He knows. “Well, sounds like Tech knows a thing or two,” Echo smiles, knowing batcher drama when he hears it. “Hah!  More than that.”  Wrecker’s pride in the statement is more than enough to warm Echo now.  He’s missing all his batchmates, down to the last domino, but as he hears Wrecker chat aimlessly about Tech, about what they’d been doing last. “Why’ve they got you here?” Crosshair interrupts, glancing at the droids in their charging stations. Echo blinks.  “They—” He considers his word carefully.  “Already medically cleared me.  More’s up with the…” He gestures to the scomp.  “The droids have been helping.  Have to…well.” He doesn’t like the phrasing, but it is what it is.  “Decrypting some of the stuff.  Double checking there’s nothing inside of me”

[jtl07]

jt (finally) watches warrior nun - s1 e8 (pt 3)

Okay final thoughts about e8 before I finally move on to e9 (also apologies if this comes out more disjointed than usual - seems like the franticn energy from last night was some kind of pre-cold energy because ugh my throat is not well) — in this rambling session, I want to talk about the blocks, namely the time when Ava successfully gets through 20 feet and how that connects back to those key scenes in e3.

But before that, can we take a moment to talk about Beatrice and touch in this episode? After so many episodes of her not touching people, she touches Ava and Lilith here, both to soothe when they’re in obvious distress:

Which is also such an interesting contrast to the distance Beatrice gives Ava in the hall:

Yes, it’s like she wants to give Ava space, to reassure that Beatrice is there but isn’t pushing, that she only wants to help - but I can't help but also recognize that Ava isn't experiencing pain in this moment, that there's no “excuse” for Bea to lean on that would allow her to, well, lean in - with physical comfort that is. But she does it verbally with the quiet in her voice, the focus in her eyes.

In a way it’s similar to the hallway scene in e3 after the embrace:

Both of those scenes feature Beatrice trying to get Ava to open up - and eventually succeeding. What’s interesting is that in the hallway scene in e3, it's Ava that's angry, and she's asking for Beatrice's belief, her trust. In the hallway scene in e8, Ava's scared, and Beatrice is asking Ava to trust her - again.

But I can't help but also wonder: How did we get from this:

To this:

(Side note: Getting screenshots of this moment made me love this scene even more because gosh, the way you can see how Beatrice falls for Ava here is just - ugh, KTY and Alba, y'all are the besttttt)

But instead of going the route of comparing the differences, let’s compare what’s similar.

So in both, we have Beatrice reacting on instinct, the instinct to comfort and soothe. Additionally, it’s during an act of trust on Ava’s part, trust in Beatrice to keep her safe. Episode 8 however, has the added depth of Ava trusting Beatrice with her deepest fear, and Beatrice promising her that it she’ll do everything she can to make sure it doesn’t come true. (Which gosh, how beautiful is that, to have that kind of devotion in your corner?)

But also, preceding this scene was Beatrice giving trust to Ava with her revelation. And what’s so meaningful is that Ava doesn’t treat her any differently after having learned this about Beatrice - she continues to give Beatrice her trust, in fact gives more because she tells Beatrice her fear. (And maybe it was because Beatrice had shared earlier that Ava felt like she could share with Beatrice. Trust is a reinforcing cycle in that way)

Also, both of these sharing moments were when they were each facing their fears literally: When Ava calls out Beatrice, it’s due to Beatrice kinda acting like a monster, a thing to hate; When Beatrice nudges Ava to think deeper on her fear, Ava’s encased in stone, alone.

But then they each take the other person's fear, looks at it, looks at them and says, yeah, that’s scary, but you don’t have to be afraid. Ava tells Beatrice that she’s beautiful; Beatrice tells Ava she won’t ever be left alone.

To connect back to my previous commentary about fear and anger and want: they each see the want underneath the fear and offer it to the other person, without any conditions or expectations, just pure and unconditional.

And maybe that’s why Beatrice is so … astounded when Ava comes through the blocks - just look at her face! - to have that trust returned, to be given the opportunity to give that kind of gift to someone else. And yes, Beatrice still catches herself, but the moment is there, the experience was shared: the exhilaration that comes from trust given, trust returned, trust proven - and trust making possible to overcome something seemingly impossible together.

(Huh, that makes me think also about Ava’s fall in s2 - that perhaps it was because of Beatrice’s overflow of emotions that somehow helped the halo recharge and for Ava to miraculously - impossibly - come back to life…)

Actually one more thought: The way Ava falls through the last of the blocks and into Beatrice's arms reminded me a bit of a trust fall - yeah, you're supposed to be not facing the person, but Ava didn't know Beatrice was going to be there (the last time, Ava fell on the ground). But Ava just like, collapses into Bea:

Fuzzy screenshot is fuzzy but there's no standing up from that. She has no balance, no further power it seems. Ava put her all into the last couple steps - put Beatrice's promise to the test, really. And Beatrice, even though she was caught unawares, still catches her, is joyful even to be given the trust to do it:

(This scene~~~~)

Okay I think the cold medicine’s kicking in, time to call it. Hopefully I’ll get to e9 this week (man I was hoping to get through both seasons before Aug 15 but at this rate, I have no idea lol) but I also just want to say thanks to y’all for reading and liking and reblogging!