#This one was real fun to make though :))

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[apathyfairy]

last year i found a wii at goodwill for 25 dollars and it came with everything except a wiimote but it was in such good condition i was like hell yeah ill take it how hard can it be to find a wiimote. the answer is it's nearly impossible to find them at thrift stores now so i've spent like 8 months looking for ones in thrift stores but there wasn't a single one and then online but i just couldn't bring myself to spend 30 dollars on one single wiimote so i waited so. patiently. and then 2 weeks ago i finally found one at goodwill for 9 dollars but it was absolutely disgusting and the battery cover was missing and the compartment was all corroded so i put it back and regretted it the whole week but then this last weekend i went to savers and there was an absolutely perfect wiimote just sitting there with no corrosion and a jacket and the wrist strap and motion plus and the nunchuck was there too and i got it all for 10 dollars so the moral of the story is that sometimes things seem right for you in the moment but you have to recognize that they aren't and leave them behind so the things that are meant for you will in fact find you when the time is right. peace and love <3

[itseghost]

sketch of my warden :] really enjoying origins so far

[wildstar25]

Honeymoon pt.2 - Urqopacha

"To call the Pelupelu merchants insistent would be putting it lightly. T'was a fair bargain all things considered. Two onzes of yerba mate and eight of coffee beans should last us a moon or two upon our return to Old Sharlayan."

[skitskatdacat63]

I've decided to do myself what the cowards at Aston won't. Behold.

[natasha-in-space]

✦ In The Dark ✦

Pairing: Suit!Saeran/gn!reader.

Summary: Power outages are never a pleasant hurdle to deal with, especially in a thunderstorm. Having to keep an eye on an annoying toy like you on top of that is a disaster waiting to happen. But Saeran is stubborn, and so are you.

Notes: 'Realizing you've reached the point of no return' promt for anon! Some heavy kissing and lots of conflicting feelings involved. You and Saeran have a rocky dynamic.

AO3 Link - 4k words.

Credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics.

"For God's sake, will you just shut the hell up already!?" 

Saeran's voice rang out harshly, the high-pitched tone bouncing off the walls of your room and hurting his own ears with its volume. The deafening rumble of thunder rattling the entirety of Magenta to its very foundation right after felt almost like a wordless retaliation of Mother Nature herself in response to his outburst. He certainly interpreted it that way. Right now, it felt like everything was purposefully trying to get under his skin. And it was working. 

Despite his full intention of hopefully scaring you off enough to finally make you go silent on him, his voice came out way harsher than he intended. Which only added to Saeran's steadily growing restlessness and frustration as he turned away from you, raking a hand through his tousled hair for the upten time already, his fingers shaky and his knees weak. 

He never liked rainstorms, and he especially did not like thunderstorms. No matter how old he got and how strong he grew, one boom of thunder would instantly send his heart flying up into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and slither away into some faraway dark corner where it's safe. And that's no way for the strongest member of Mint Eye to think or feel. 

Saeran hated rainstorms because they were a cruel reminder of a weakness he couldn't overcome, no matter how hard he tried. 

He never liked you, either. Not one bit. In fact, he despised you. You were a damn thorn in his side, nothing but stubborn and infuriating since day one of his introduction to you. Always having way too much to say and refusing to back down no matter how hard he pushed. It was like the two of you were always at each other's throats, bickering and fighting over the smallest of things. And, really, that would be fine with him. Hell, that would be great, actually. Saeran would love nothing more than to laugh straight in Ray's face the moment his precious innocent angel turned out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

No, what he hated the most about you, was how, despite all your senseless squabbling with him, you were never truly cruel to him. You would throw his harsh words and insults right back into his face, but you never put him down. You would get smart with him for the sake of nothing but getting on his nerves, but you never kicked him when he was down. He couldn't understand you. How you could be so damn assertive and cocky without having to be cruel like him.

Much like rainstorms, you were a constant glaring reminder of his weaknesses. It goes without saying that putting the two together would leave him on edge, to say the least. 

So the fact that he was now pretty much stuck alone with you in the cramped space of your room for God knows how long? With nothing but your annoying presence, your petty comments, the stupidly pink colors of your room, and your maddening scent to keep him company?

To say that Saeran was in a sour mood would be like saying nothing at all.

Of course, no one was making him stay here. But he wasn't naive enough to let you out of his sight during a power outage. Like hell he would. He just knew you'd try to do something stupid and annoying, as you always do. Like escaping. Or making him look bad in front of the Savior on purpose as revenge for everything he put you through. Or sabotaging their paradise by seeking out that cursed liar that was like a cockroach you couldn't kill no matter how much you stomp on it with the heel of your boot. Just because you never tried doing any of that before didn't mean he would let his guard down for you. He knew you'd take advantage of that as soon as you could.

Not on his watch, you won't. He was going to sit right here with you and watch over your every move until he could continue to do so from his cameras like usual. Even if the sight of you was as irritating as a fly buzzing in front of the screen. 

Though what he truly hated the most about this entire predicament was how you somehow managed to make him look like the more anxious one between the two of you. 

Because he wasn't anxious.

Not one bit. 

And the booming sounds of thunder rumbling through Magenta had no effect on him. 

Nor was he on edge because of the storm outside throwing long branches of surrounding trees against your window with every gust of wind.

It was you.

It was always you.

Everything was your fault.

“-No, I will not shut up,” you grumbled, pulling him out of his angry spiral. Your arms were crossed over your chest defiantly as you huffed and shifted in the chair you were seated in, your eyes following his every move as he paced around your room like a lion in a cage. The chair creaked and groaned under your weight, the sound only irritating him further. A small part of him thought of stealing that damn chair from you and making you stand just for the sake of it, but that was way too childish even for him. At least he could see that it was kind of uncomfortable for you. The back wasn't tall enough to reach your shoulders correctly, making your back a bit stiff. Or maybe it was his presence making you tense up so much. He could live with that. Though, that self-assured look you were giving him was really getting on his nerves. “It’s not my fault you guys forgot to schedule a thunderstorm into your plans. And I'm not forcing you to stay here, either. So quit yelling at me already.”

Did you have to always talk back to him like that?

"Well, it's not my damn fault either,” he snapped back at you as he moved away from the wall he was currently leaning against, stomping up to your bed, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs, betraying the exhaustion he was feeling on the inside. God, he hated how soft and inviting that bed of yours looked. Like a forbidden fruit calling out for him to give in and try a taste of its promise of rest. He hated how you could snuggle up under those plush bedsheets comfortably while he was left to sleep, sitting at his desk for thirty minutes at most. Suffering from nightmares more often than not on top of that. So, he falls back onto your bed unceremoniously, feeling the soft material welcome his added weight as it dips under him.

He was only able to lie back for a minute, though, your scent quickly assaulting him stronger than ever before, making him get up again and start pacing around your room, agitation rolling off of him in waves. His irritability was increasing by the second, and you were the only one he could turn his anger towards. As you often were.

“But you're still pissing me off.”

“-Oh, I’m pissing you off, am I?” 

His head snapped in your direction, watching you stand up from your seat, crossing your arms again. Deep down, he knew he was being unfair to you, really. Of course he knew that. Saeran wasn't an idiot, nor was he naive. In a way, that was the point of it all. And he sure hoped you would finally break and prove him right. Give him something he could throw back into Ray's stupid face next time he whines about you being this devoted and perfect angel that cares for them in a way no one else did. 

That was just a load of bullshit.

So, he let you walk up to him, a heated glare to your eyes that rivaled his own. Some part of him was expecting you to hit him, his muscles tightening up under his tight suit like a coiled spring, fully ready on jerking away and covering his face in a movement that was way too familiar to him. Instead, you simply leaned towards him, backing him up against the wall until his back gently bumped against the smooth surface, your hands now resting on both sides of his arms, caging him in. Though, there was still a significant distance between the two of you. You weren't necessarily looking down at him, nor were you trying to make him shrink away from you. 

A big part of him wished you did.

“You’re the one who came here, Saeran. I told you I wouldn't do anything. You just never listen to me." Your annoyed voice practically hissed into his ear, your breath fanning across his skin in warm puffs of air, contrasting against the anxious chill overtaking his body. He suppressed a shiver. He figured it was a shiver of disgust. It must have been. He sneers, his nose scrunching up in displeasure as he returns your heated glare with one of his own, his shoulders squared and his chin raised up high, refusing to show any weakness. 

“What, and listen to you? Don't make me laugh." Saeran mocked, pushing back against you, his eyes narrowing with simmering frustration that was just waiting to spill free, like a bubbling cauldron slowly coming to a boil. He leaned in so he could be eye-to-eye with you, not being intimidated in the slightest. Because that's what you were doing to him, surely. Trying to intimidate him. Scare him off. Break him. Well, he wouldn't let you. He tilted his head to look at you, his gaze filled with a silent challenge. “Forgive me for not taking orders from someone who's only good enough to be a helpless prince/ss and a useless toy."

A cocky smirk pulled at the corners of his lips as another teasing comment flew off the tip of his tongue with ease, fully intent on getting under your skin and riling you up further. Although his tone was mocking, his body was tense, his palms sweaty as he balled his hands up into tight fists. You backing him into a wall with your face so close to his didn't help at all with the rising tension in his muscles whatsoever. If anything, it made it worse. 

He was struggling to gather his thoughts, which only made him feel even more angry. Both with you and himself. He was usually very in charge of himself when he was in front of the other believers, but having you here—being pressed right up against him like this���left him completely unprepared. He had to struggle to stop himself from staring at your lips, a notion that scared and confused him all the same.

Much to his frustration, however, your lips only tugged upwards with a slight smirk of your own in response to his attempts at getting back at you. The fact that he almost had to look up at you in order to even glare at you properly pissed him off quite a bit. He did not like feeling small. He wanted you to think that he was big and imposing. Not someone who could be backed into a corner and looked down at. But you kept him firmly against the wall, preventing him from walking away without you directly letting him. It was supposed to be the other way around. And, in a way, he recognized that this was not the first time you were like this. Only your roles were reversed. And now it was you making him feel smaller than he really was. 

As his head tilted back, your own leaned in even closer to him, the smirk on your face only growing bigger. He'd like to say that it was cruel and mocking, but it was really more playful and amused. Which wasn't much better, considering the circumstances.

“...You sure have a sharp tongue, I'll give you that.”

He was making a genuine effort to ignore you now. He really was, but he felt his control slipping through his fingers like sand as your face got so impossibly close to his. He shifted against you, his jaw locked in place as he stubbornly looked away from you now instead of holding your gaze, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing him break. In part, because he was breaking. His breathing was starting to get a little labored as he tensed, his arms twitching with the need to either pull you closer and pin you against this damn wall to show you who's really in charge here or grab you by the waist and shove you away so that his heart stopped beating so impossibly heavy in his chest. He didn't know which one of the two he would choose when push comes to shove, and that indecisiveness was making him more anxious than he was willing to admit. 

“And you're acting like you're in charge, stupid toy. Again.” His retort wasn't nearly as sharp of a response as he was hoping for, but his brain was far too jumbled to come up with anything more coherent. 

Your smirk faded and a frustrated frown took its place. Despite his initial glee at your annoyance with him, he really didn’t like it when you challenged him or disrespected him like this. Then again, he didn't like you no matter what you did. The main reason your presence was so damn infuriating to him. You looked like you really wanted him to shut up. A sentiment that was mutual on his part. But before he could muster up some other cold remark to crush that spirit of yours, you suddenly placed one of your hands down on his hip without giving him much of a warning. His breath stuttered slightly in his throat, his fingers twitching at his sides as he looked down at your face, eyes widening. The force with which he was clenching his jaw was causing it to ache slightly, but he refused to relax.

What were you getting at here? And why did your touch feel like hot iron being pressed up into his side? Or was it his body that was suddenly far too warm for comfort?

What were you doing to him...? 

You leaned in even further until your face was almost level with his, your breath mixing with his and fanning against his skin gently. 

“...Watch it. Or I might just shut that sharp mouth of yours up myself.” Your voice lowered into a low whisper as you spoke, a quiet warning. Or a promise. He couldn't really tell. Being so close to you made it more difficult to think clearly. He opened his mouth to say something, to protest against your audacity to speak to him in such a bold manner, yet nothing but a shaky exhale came out. His mind felt too empty and full at the same time, his eyes subconsciously darting down to your lips for the second time. A notion that you definitely took notice of, judging by how intently those eyes of yours were watching him. When the thick silence between the two of you remained unbroken for another long minute, you continued, your thigh now gently and slowly sliding between his legs to rest your knee against the wall behind him, bringing your body that much closer to him. Your scent hit his nostrils like a hurricane that made his head spin. "Or maybe... that's what you want me to do...? To make you stop thinking for a while?" 

He knew you wanted him to shut up and let you win this. But he was not going to let you. And this ploy of yours, whatever it was, was bound to fail. So, he was quick to open his mouth to retort with some sort of insult that would hopefully put you in your place. That’s when he saw it in your eyes. A sort of 'screw it' look, one you'd get when you felt like you had nothing to lose. And then you leaned forward just a tiny bit further and took hold of his chin with your free hand, making him look at you directly. He was prevented from doing or saying anything more by you practically slamming your lips against his, making him gasp sharply against your mouth.

It killed any words he had on his tongue. It took Saeran a second to process what you were-

Oh.

It was like a switch got flipped off inside his head. One part of him was utterly stunned and lost. The last thing he expected was for you to go and kiss him. Without him prompting for it or you pleading for your sweet Ray to return. Was this what you meant when you said you were going to shut him up? He knew of screaming at someone or hitting them to do that, but kissing? There must be something seriously wrong with you. 

And what's worse is that you were not kissing him like you kissed Ray out in the garden. This was rougher, more fervent, and raw. This was a memory being created between him and you. Not a recreation of something that already happened. And Saeran did not know how to deal with that. How to accept that you were kissing him. As Saeran. The same Saeran that did everything he possibly could to make you break, to hurt you, to use you to feel strong and invisible. 

Your lips were warm and soft against him, even as you pressed them against him with more force than he expected. There was no pain in this action. He didn't know much, if anything, about kissing. What to do, or how to reciprocate. But a big part of him expected you to sink your teeth into his lip and draw blood. You didn't. You were simply brushing your lips against his, the hot touch making his blood boil in his veins. You didn't go any further than that, starting to pull back from him all too soon. Maybe because he just stood there, frozen as a statue.

He didn't want that. 

He didn't want to confront what you just did or what it meant. 

He didn't want to admit to himself that he wanted more—to explore what this connection between you would bring. A connection between him and you. Between Saeran and you. He refused to admit that he wanted to know what it feels like to be Saeran, and not a tool or a shield.

That's a wish he couldn't allow himself to fulfill. And in some backwards streak of desperation to avoid dealing with all these feelings that were about to swallow him whole, he refused to let this end.

He switches immediately, his hand moving to the back of your head as he pulled your body flush against his and chased after your lips before you could pull back from him completely. He didn't give his action much thought. It was clumsy and desperate, his movements making it crystal clear he had no idea what he was doing, teeth clashing together and lips smacking at an awkward angle. He hated that you had the upper hand on him even here. You seemed surprised by his rather intense reciprocation, a muffled noise of surprise escaping you, but you don't push him away. You kissed him back, your own hand raising to cup his cheek, and he did his best to follow your movements, copying your motions the best he could. 

His hand on the back of your head grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging on it slightly, making you emit a brief hiss into his mouth, one that he hungrily swallowed, his heart left stuttering in his chest for a completely different reason from before. It made him feel alive. He wanted more of it. More of you.  His other hand found your thigh on a primal whim, and he grabbed at it absentmindedly, to which you lifted it up to wrap it around his waist, the increased closeness between you two making him shudder against you, something between a whine and a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. He was not thinking clearly at all; he just knew he wanted you to be as close to him as possible right now.

To make the deafening thundering of his heart against his ribcage draw out the roaring of the storm outside that kept him so on edge in the first place. To stop him from thinking. He wanted his head blissfully empty for once in his miserable existence.

Only you.

Your touch.

Your warmth.

Your smell.

You.

He pushed you backwards, breaking the kiss for just long enough to stumble you both to the bed, pushing you down onto your back without a word being spoken, and climbing on top of you immediately.

You managed a quiet grunt, your eyes widening as he climbed on top of you. Feeling your shared weight dip the soft blankets and bedsheets of the bed, he let out a small noise of protest as you wordlessly rest your palms against his chest, preventing him from diving for another kiss with you. Your lips were parted as you finally regained your breathing a bit. Whether that was from the kiss itself or the sheer emotional intensity of what this all meant for you both from then on, he didn't know. A soft, slightly shaky exhale escaped you both almost in unison, and he was now left to stare down at you as your chest rises and falls slowly. Your expression was a mix of surprise and desire as you looked up at him, stunned and mesmerized. And that... scared him. It scared him because he hadn't expected you to like being close with him like that. He wasn't Ray right now. He wasn't even trying to pretend to be Ray for you. He was just... Saeran. In all his messiness and ugliness. 

And, most of all, it scared him because it felt so goddamn good. Because your warmth made all the buzzing thoughts that were constantly screaming at him at the back of his own skull quiet down. You were crumbling his fragile facade into a thousand pieces. And you were simultaneously making him feel more at ease with that than he ever felt.

He definitely was not expecting you to be so bold, either. It goes without saying that his goal of making you terrified of him has failed rather spectacularly. 

Your hand found its way to his waist again, resting just over his hip. Surely you could feel just how thin and boney he was under this tight-fitting suit. The truth of him being far weaker than he let on. But you didn't grab at him, nor did you push him off. Your fingers just squeezed him enough for him to feel the heat from your palm seeping through the multiple layers of clothing, soothing his cold skin.

“...What happened to the snarky comments? Feeling a little speechless now, are we?” you flirted, breaking through the silence, your voice coming out in a breathless murmur. The hand on his hip moved and settled over his stomach, with your thumb tracing a small circle against him. He shivered, his breath hitching sharply.

He had a hard time overlooking just how good you looked sprawled beneath him like him. The sight alone was making his suit feel a bit hotter than it should. You looked almost ethereal like this. Nothing but the faint light from the window eluminating your features, an occasional flash of lightning giving him just the briefest of glimpses of you as a whole. Your lips parted just slightly, reddened in color from the heated kiss you've just shared with him, your cheeks a noticeably deeper shade than they were before. Your eyes half-lidded and twinkling as they looked back at him. Seeing him. Not Ray. Him. 

He made you look like this. 

Saeran swallowed, his hands shaking as they rested against the plush mattress on either side of your head. He knew, in that singular moment, as he tried his damnest to even out his breathing, that there was no coming back from this. You saw his weakness, and he did nothing against it. 

And he liked it. 

"You... I hate you," he muttered, his voice hoarse and shaky, barely audible over the sound of rain drumming against the window.

"No, you don't," you simply responded, your free hand reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb swiping just under his eye. He grabbed at your hand, keeping it there. He did not argue with you.

"...Kiss me again." 

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Spice is the variety of life!

[First] Prev <--> Next

[tordoise-x3]

MY RESIDNET EVIL OC with his parasite thingy

Im kicking my feet fr

[nopanamaman]

anger management is back babyyy (kinda)

https://youtu.be/V8PrDmN04P0

[sallymew4]

kids when they hear that their dad is back in town VS. kids when theyre hanging out with a conman that accidentally stole their wallet once

im not even joking btw

bonus heres me being crazy about them in dms ^^^

[sulphur-and-honey]

is there still an inside no 9 fandom on tumblr. I know it used to be really active but recent seasons kinda killed it. Can anyone hear me. Please god the new season is fucking incredible. I genuinely think it’s some of their best work. I need to cry about this.

[flufflecat]

roughing out some concept sketches for more bill fashion designs

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat htey fuckin jumpscared me while im trying to do my assignment

[artem1sc0re]

Idk who’d want this or would want to see this in their day

But Aiden Pearce with banana bread

Also do you guys like edits if so I’ll just serve this on the side

[ferronickel]

Every three years or so, I get the urge to make new business card designs, usually right before a big trip or event or something. This time around I was bemoaning the fact that I couldn't post them (because I try my best to keep my wallet name off of tumblr) and then I remembered that I can just... type in a different name. So enjoy some slightly altered business card designs from 2018, 2021, and 2024!