#and it’s so cool to watch people’s evolution

[crazynerdandproud]

Does the podficcing community know I love them? That they are doing god’s work and have my respect for all the time and dedication they put into what do? Cause editing stuff is hard and yet they are all so good and sometimes I forget I’m not listening to like, an audible production or some such thing. And even those that aren’t quite as good yet still bring light to this world and are awesome. Do they know I wish them all the best in life? Do they know they are a treasure and deeply appreciated? Cause they should.

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

photo studies ft. the first gen nekoma stage play actors

[sideblogdotjpeg]

im so glad youre getting into naddpod i love it so fucking much. i love seeing ur d20 artwork and posts in general so seeing u get into naddpod is very !!! :D

!!! THANK YOU!! and YEAH i am soo slowly and steadily making my way through the bahumia campaign and i am IN LOVE. band of boobs my beloved

[shioaoi]

Rundown of the more interesting parts from the Necrits live stream with Christian Linke (Creative Director and Co-Creator of Arcane) :

There was a longer version of the Caitvi sex scene but they got bonked by the ratings people, and because it would have raised Leagues rating to mature, it got brought down to what we got.

The entire Caitvi sex scene was directed and animated by Fortiche with zero input by Riot. Christian says, "That was French people being French."

Riot making Arcane canon didn't change where they were taking characters or the story, it just made them more aware of how it would affect other Riot projects.

Christian refused to confirm exactly when the events of Arcane take place in the existing timeline.

The Arcane doesn't originate from Hextech. It is just one - in universe - interpretation of magic.

Christian doesn't view Viktor and Jayce's love as romantic, and that romance wasn't the intention when writing their relationship. However, by the way he talks, it doesn't seem he's against people shipping them romantically - just as a creative team, they were more interested in exploring a close, complex male friendship / brotherhood.

The 250-million dollar show budget number is not accurate as marketing is included in that fund. Fortiche's goal from the beginning was to bring the level of animation found in feature animated films to serialised content. While the show was very expensive for an animated series, it was way cheaper than an animated feature film because they try and work efficiently. As an example, Christian says how often in Hollywood, it's not uncommon for sometimes 40-50% of what is animated to end up on the cutting room floor while with Fortiche they try and keep it around 5%

Ekko's hair was changed from a mohawk to dreads because the artist who worked on him told them that black hair doesn't work like that (in reference to the mohwak), and here's how it would actually work.

Legends of Runterra affected Arcane in terms of giving the team inspiration for how the everyday street life is for people in the regions.

Caitlyn's LOR Tactical design (2021) and Warwicks VGU Voicelines (2017) were made to reflect what was going to happen in Arcane - production of Arcane just took a long amount of time.

They've said from the beginning that the only person who could ever defeat Viktor at the height of his power was Viktor himself. His story is about the glorious evolution, the pursuit of that, and what it actually means to remove these human elements until there is nothing left.

All projects Riot is working on - whether the MMO, Games, Written or Animated projects - are in talks with one another at all times.

Christian comments on how very few games have remain in service as long as League has, and because of its ever growing and evolving story, it's hard to bring everything together cohesively since everything was made at different times, in different era's, by a multitude of different people. So, while many things may be very cool creatively, it makes it impossible to successfully bring it all together more often than not. So for new projects, they are more focused on making something good and successful with the team and talent they have, even if it retcons or replaces content made in the past.

Christian pitched singing Heimerdinger.

Arcane's scripts for S2 were locked in before S1 was released, so they were not impacted by fandoms or online reactions. Christian thinks maybe some animation choices were influenced by things the animators saw online, but not the story.

When watching the premier of the final arcane episodes in LA - the entire 4000 seat theatre cheered when Maddie died.

The butterfly motif shared between Jayce and Viktor specifically was used to represent transformation.

Christian talked about how they don't think about really whether people will like something or not, but whether it's the right consequence for the story (this is in discussion to Caitlyn losing an eye). What makes a character likeable to an audience in his eyes is their decisions in the story; the choices that they make.

Continuing on from this, he comments on how the choices Caitlyn makes now are so different now compared to the beginning of the show. She is now willing to take risks and sacrifice parts of herself for people, for Piltover and for what is right.

When asked about Caitlyn's signature hat, Christian says that the team saw it as somthing that didn't really fit this version of Caitlyn they were writing and the person she becomes and that's why it was never incorporated into her designs.

Back in the beginning, when they were first working on Arcane, Christian would constantly going back to Jinx and Vi's original design artists & Riot August who was their champion designer to make sure they weren't messing anything up with these characters.

Christian goes on to tell an anecdote of when Paul 'Zeronis' Kwon was drawing the first concepts for Vi. This was back when Christian was in music. She didn't have a name at the time, but when Christian looked over Paul's shoulder at the art, he comments "she kinda looks like a Violet to me." They never spoke about it, but months later, when she became a serious character concept internally, she was gifted the name Vi. To this day, Christian doesn't know if his comment resulted in her name or if it was just a coincidence, but Violet became stuck in Christian's brain as Vi's true name. Riot August (who was in chat) then confirms that her name came from her tattoo, which came from one of her key design elements, being that she had the number 6 on her face. So, just a happy coincidence.

Talking about the tattoo. The tattoo was shrunken in size so, from a distance, it would look more like a beauty mark and the brain can more easily disregard it. One of the many things that they had to think about when translating the designs over as, is animation, you would be looking at a characters face a lot more than you do in league where the camera is situated top down.

As they were wrapping up the stream, Christian talks about how there always needs to be a bit of space between what content creators / content consumers do (pointing at Necrit) and what Riot does. He thinks it's good that there is space for criticism and a critical view of the things Riot does. In order to succeed, he believes they need to listen to their audience but also that they need to have their own vision, take risks, and be bold. It's a delicate balance in his eyes, and projects tend to fail when these two sides are too in cahoots.

He iterates that they are not trying to shove anything down anyone's throats. They are just trying to find what makes these characters cool, tell their stories, and be true to the regions they come from. With taking the characters from League to Arcane, it was important that they translate these stories and characters so they can hold up with the best storytelling in the world.

This circles back to the earlier point about retconning things and replacing past stories and content. He comments on how some characters are very outdated or too archetypal, but they still have an essence that people love about them.

Arcane was something Christian worked on for 9 years, and he was getting clearly emotional near the end. He also adds they're just getting started and he wants to make sure they do a good job with this IP and the characters we really love.

To those who are not happy with certain decisions, he's sorry they didn't hit what you personally wanted, but there is simply no way they can please everybody. While they are trying to make as many of the Riot / Arcane audience happy, they as the creators and artists need to follow their own compass, be the shepherds of this IP; that being creative is hard. They will keep doing that even if they sometimes have to ruffle some feathers.

He closes the stream by confirming that they are investing quite a bit in Noxas, Ionia, and Demacia for the next regions they explore.

[love-toxin]

MEAT - thomas hewitt (leatherface)

a/n: i had to be a little silly ehe <- delusional

(cws: fem!reader, DDDNE, extreme violence, blood, gore, broken bones, a whole array of weaponry, domestic abuse, forced relationship, evolution of victim -> perpetrator, psychological torture, mentions of very dubious consent, breeding, huge size difference, ownership marking, protective tommy, implied cannibalism, unnamed victims of the tcm.)

wc: 10.7k

Lungs burning in your chest with the humid Texas heat, you forced the corn stalks aside as you stumbled through them in a frantic sprint. Each leathery pod whacked against your shoulders, your hands, your chest, and your bruised-up legs, but you wouldn't stop for nothing.

You couldn't stop. The people you'd hitchhiked with were all dead, or at least very well on their way to being so–they had been hunted one by one, by bear traps and shotguns and hay hooks, and you were sure you were the only one the family were left hunting. It'd taken all night to spread you thin and weaken you all with sadistic tortures of every kind. Now your group was down to one. You. Hauling ass was not enough to describe how frantically you were tumbling through the crop field, practically hand-over-foot crawling with how dizzy you'd gotten. Blood loss and a few hits to the head would do that to you.

Finally, the maize parted one last time to spit you out into the dewy grass, the labyrinth of sameness finally coming to an end. But when you tilted your head up to the starry night sky, your heart dropped into your feet at what laid before you. The farmhouse. You'd run in the wrong direction. Warm light glowed from within the drapery behind the windows and you spotted the older woman standing on the porch, a rag tucked between her hands as she called out a name. Terrified and hoping for the blessing of going unseen you army crawled your way right back to the corn–

Thunk. Only halfway there, the grass split with the force of a sledgehammer dropping into it. A boot stepped into view right by your head; attached to it was an enormous calf, and your eyes trailed upwards slowly to reveal the whole of that crazed maniac you'd seen manhandling the others into that house of horrors across the lawn.

Greasy hair hung down in long tresses, wary eyes pierced into your skull, an apron sat snug around his midriff stained with dark blood. Up close, you could listen to the way he breathed heavy through the mask that obscured his lower jaw, only the bridge of his nose and his forehead visible through it. He stunk of sweat, rot, and fresh meat. His weighty hand tightened round the handle of the hammer he'd set down, veins popping out with the sheer size and strength of his enormous, hulking body.

“Tommy!” The woman's voice cracked out in the night, the name finally ringing clear enough for you to hear. His head whipped around to the source and he stared in her direction; you watched her turn a blind eye to your predicament in the grass and step back inside the house. It felt as though your heart might burst in that moment, the fear and tension running through you like a taut wire about to snap in two.

The giant grunted overhead. You looked back at him again and squeezed your fists against the dirt, expecting him to lift that hammer and crush your skull into the ground with it. But upon resting his palm on the blunt end of it, the monster instead used it to lower himself to one knee. With a hand outstretched, he slowly, carefully brushed your damp hair aside, and pressed his fingertips firmly into your cheek. You shuddered as they moved downwards, probing around the soft spot beneath your ear and the curve of your jaw. He tilted your chin back and slid his whole, grubby hand down your neck…and with the most tentative squeeze around your throat, you swallowed and he all but jumped back. Your skin ran cool again as his warm hand ripped away from you, but with just as much hesitation he grazed your lips with his knuckles and trailed them across your forehead, leaving smudges of wet blood behind.

“Tommy!” A harsher voice tore through the quiet night, yanking his attention away from you again. The sheriff–the fake sheriff, that is–came stomping up from around the back of the barn, the shotgun hanging at his side causing you enough panic to scramble to your knees. But you wouldn't get far. Not even a couple feet. Your body hit the earth within moments of you climbing to your feet, and you heaved out a pained moan at the mountain of weight that pinned you down and crushed you underneath him. The giant had thrown himself forward and taken you down without thinking twice; his beefy arm came around your neck and tightened, his muscles flexing under the coarse fabric of his shirt for him to hold you in place.

“Attaboy, Tommy.” The older man came around his side as you struggled, clawing at the bicep that was crushing your windpipe with barely any effort. The sheriff kicked your flailing leg with a holler, cackling at the way you squirmed under his nephew's brute strength. “Stupid bitch. Gonna learn your lesson now, aint'cha?”

Dying squeaks for mercy escaped your throat, your words barely tinged with any discernible syllables. Thomas’ grip only grew tighter. Your arms went slack, then your legs slowed to a trembling halt…and before long your head slumped forward as you passed into unconsciousness, hoping to god this would be the last time you woke up in this sweltering Texas hell.

Clink. Clink. Clink. The chatter of voices melted into the gentle clatter of silverware. It wasn't the sounds that stirred you from your sleep rife with nightmares, though–it was the sliver of a sunbeam cast through the window that shone gently on your face. You blinked blearily as your head lolled in a stuttered circle, slowly and quietly coming to. Clink. Clack. Eyelids cracked half-open, you raised your head up despite the weight of a pounding headache, and watched a pair of wrinkled hands set down a teacup on a saucer in front of you.

Although there was much to see, you instantly turned your gaze to the woman you'd seen on the porch. Your nerves jittered and you flinched as she reached out to touch you, but it passed with her gentle shushing as she tenderly caressed your cheek. The age showed in creases all across her face, her eyes soft but wet with something terribly uneasy behind them.

“Such a pretty girl,” She crooned, a smile like nothing had happened plastered across her face. The eagerness with which she watched you unsettled you to your very core, but it would be second to the nightmare that was waiting to explode on you across the table. “I always wanted a little girl. Never seen one so pretty.” Despite the sweetness of her words, a shift of your hand rattled the chair you'd been tied to; both wrists buckled under the tough ropes used to bind you, indented where you could see dry blood crusted over the fibers. Either you moved a lot in your sleep, or someone really wanted to punish you for trying to get away.

As tenderly as if she was your own mother, the lady brought your teacup up and tilted it for you to drink, which gave you a moment to let your eyes wander. With a glance around you took a mental sweep of the place. Your chair sat at the end of a dining table, and aside from the woman you spotted two other older men; the frightening man with the shotgun, and an elderly man in a wheelchair. Framed photos hung around the room against peeling wallpaper, and aside from a decent amount of clutter and antique decorations of a house long lived in, nothing struck you as out of the ordinary from the cutlery to the frayed rug that cushioned your bare feet.

The aging woman tottered around the table to pick up a plate and slid a few eggs on from a saucepan in the middle. That and a few strips of bacon made their way down to your placemat, still sizzling.

“Why're you givin’ this bitch special treatment, mama?” The fake sheriff glared you down from his seat at the head of the table, spitting off to the side with his hands still clasped in front of him. “Already got enough mouths to feed.”

“Hush.” She finally snapped, and gestured with the spatula still in hand. “This is your fault. You wanna play sheriff so bad, Charlie.”

“It's Hoyt, mama, for god's sake!”

“Don't you cuss at me!” The old woman warned, aiming the spatula right at his chest.

“U-Um,” You whimpered softly, and drew the attention of all three of the frightening strangers, who turned their heads in your direction. The focus on you made you falter, but the problem at hand was far more pressing than fear. “Th-The rope…please..” You managed to squeak out, and only then did they seem to notice your hands were changing colours. They were so tight the blood wasn't circulating, and you feared even a few moments more of the ache would result in something very unpleasant in the near future, especially when you knew there was a chainsaw floating around here somewhere.

Just then, the floorboards creaked at your back. Too afraid to turn your head you only shifted your gaze, and in your peripheral you saw it. Two thick, fat-fingered hands reaching downwards to tug at the binds round your wrist. For someone so huge, he made short work of untying you even without the aid of one of the knives scattered round the table settings. The rope loosened and dropped to the floor in a coil like a dead snake, but as he reached over you to undo the other–and you got a whiff of soap amidst his sweat in the process–the man naming himself Hoyt grumbled and slammed his fist down on the table, rattling the plates and silverware.

“Goddammit, boy–what'd I say? We ain't keepin’ her, for Christ sakes!”

“Watch your mouth!” The woman–mama–shrieked, and her fist shook as she dumped the spatula down on the table with a thunk. The other cuff came loose and you released a sigh of relief as you touched your wrists, wincing at the open cuts that had only half dried over. And while the two continued to bicker about one thing or another, a great shifting of clothes and a thump beside you caught your gaze. Thomas, the giant that you'd watched haul the others off to the slaughter, had knelt down by your chair like a dog and still came up to eye level. God, he was just massive. Somehow it made him less intimidating though, since he looked at you like he was waiting for scraps from your plate. It was somewhat pathetic, but…endearing? Was that a word you could even consider using for a maniac like him, or was it beyond all common logic to even think of him in such pleasant terms?

“A-Are you…hungry?” You whispered, only to be met with a slow shake of his head. Thomas raised a melon-sized arm and pushed the plate closer to you, as if to say ‘eat up, it's getting cold’. Emboldened by his tender gesture, you shakily plucked your fork off the placemat and leaned in to examine the bacon. It looked like…bacon. Hot, crunchy, cut in strips like you would see any day in the supermarket. Still, you tentatively went for the eggs first, and raised the tiniest bit to your mouth as the two older ones finally managed to settle down whatever argument they'd been having.

“Boys, time to say grace.” Suddenly flushed hot with embarrassment, you lowered your fork in an instant and followed their lead. You bowed your head with them, listened to mama say her standard prayers of thanks–and then, when everyone else began to eat, you cautiously lifted the bite to your lips and chewed thoughtfully. It felt like forever for you to discern whether or not it was normal, if it tasted like it should, but after a while of chewing you had to relent to the fact that it didn't taste abnormal, so it was about as fine as you could expect. You ate in silence alongside them, but just when you pondered whether the food might be drugged or other awful possibilities, the sheriff cleared his throat and drew your attention to him once again.

“Now,” Mama scowled at him, but he continued to speak nonetheless. “You got two options here, kid: eat, or be eaten. Them's the laws of life.” He reached up and scratched the back of his neck, readying himself to say more, but an interruption came with a grunt from your side. Hoyt raised a hand and waved the wordless concern off. “Don't you mouth off, boy. Gettin’ to it.”

You shifted your gaze to Thomas, who only nudged your plate closer to you to urge you into eating more. Something gnawed at the back of your mind. Their behavior was so strange, the looks exchanged even stranger–there was something that wasn't being said, like a plan was brewing right under your nose.

“See here, this is how it is. You got choices. Now, my nephew here happens to like you,” His honeyed southern drawl couldn't hope to mask the hopelessness that stirred in you at those words. “Ugly as sin, but he's a good enough boy, ain't that right?” He looked to Thomas, but the ‘boy’ in question stared right at you when he nodded. “So you choose. You wanna eat-”

“I'll eat,” The answer flew from your mouth without hesitation, so much so that even the most uninterested of folks around the table caught your gaze. Your breath hitched in your bruised throat. “I'll eat, I swear. I'll eat.”

“Mm-hm.” Hoyt eyed you and nodded. Something about the way he watched you made you feel overexposed, like your skin had been stripped raw from the bone and he was peering into every inch underneath. “Fine then. Whore's all yours, Tommy-boy.”

At those words, your world shifted with a violent blur of motion. Before you could even gasp there were huge, strong hands under your armpits, and you were lifted out of your seat like a child who weighed less than nothing. You'd be thanking yourself later that you at least polished off most of your plate, because aside from an accidental thump of your foot hitting the table on the way by, you wouldn't be touching the rest of your breakfast again. Thomas slung you over his shoulder and cradled your lower half in the crook of an enormous arm, and with a shriek you felt yourself being carried off by the giant and taken away into another world.

The basement.

It had been a month and a half since you'd been taken in, now. Life had gone on despite you vanishing from the world you knew, and regardless of whether or not you woke up each morning and wondered why you were still kept alive, the earth continued to turn. Time went on and you adjusted, albeit shakily, to the routine of a life in the backcountry of rural Texas. You learned to help on the farm and Luda Mae, or momma as you were taught to call her, passed on her generations-old knowledge of cookery and cleaning and caring for the household. Sometimes you'd get driven out with momma and one of the uncles to tend the store, but that was on the rare side since they didn't trust the locals not to mess with you. Pretty things like you didn't come by often and you had values to uphold, now.

Plus, you had a man at home. Tommy was the reason you survived that awful first night, but now it was expected that he was also the reason you kept on living.

The rest of the family kept out of your business together for the most part, but you'd long been perplexed by the dynamic that had ensued since you'd first arrived. For as hulking and strong of a beast he was, you came to find out that Tommy's appearance was a shell that sheltered a soft-natured, sensitive boy at heart. His penchant for murder was not so, rather it was a duty carried out regardless of will in the service of a family he was lucky to have, despite you certainly thinking otherwise. He liked to work, and eat, and make things. His rage could certainly be a problem, but it was a rare thing that only cropped up once in a great while. He would endure more than ten times a normal person before he finally snapped, and even then he wouldn't ever let you see it. The few times he got mad, he would stomp out to the barn or head to the now-abandoned slaughterhouse, and take out his aggression on the thing he knew best. Meat. And most of the time it was a beating from Hoyt or a few too many bouts of yelling before he felt the need to get away.

After all, it wasn't anger that led his interactions with you. It was odd; he'd pointed you out specifically as the one he wanted to keep, but he seldom showed any entitlement in taking whatever it was he wanted from you. He'd lean in for kisses but most of the time he missed anyways. You weren't exactly sure what you could call your one occasion of intimacy with him that you recalled, because he didn't ask if you wanted it, but you didn't really tell him outright that you didn't. Would it have even mattered? Maybe not. But he barely managed to find the hole he was looking for anyways, and by the time he did it was obvious he had no clue what he was doing. Fumbling hands and a bit of awkward thigh-humping later and he'd finally left you be, albeit soaked and sticky with sweat and the residue he'd clumsily left behind on your bare stomach. Since then, it'd been just a few fingers on your thighs and some tame through-the-mask kisses, nothing more.

Not that you should really be questioning the love of a serial chainsaw butcher, but as the days passed it grew harder to see him in that light alone. You witnessed too much of the deformed, mentally-disturbed man who refused to eat before you did, who wouldn't lay a hand on you like he'd had laid on him all his life. Thomas showed affection in odd ways but they were more endearing than you thought they would be, from picking you flowers off the side of the road to cleaning up the small room you shared so you'd feel more at home. Sometimes his arousal would grow against your back while you laid in his arms, but a bit of shuddered hip-rocking through your pajamas while he thought you were asleep and the moment would pass. He was pretty easy to please.

There came a time when new visitors drove through town, however, and you knew what was going to happen as soon as Hoyt came home and called for Tommy to come upstairs. You stood at the sink washing dishes while you peered through the window; out in front of the same cornfield you'd crawled out of nearly two months ago, a van sat parked next to Hoyt's stolen Dodge. You watched with your breath held tight in your throat as five people hopped out the sliding door one by one, all seemingly chipper for where they were. Three girls, two guys. Their sunbleached hair and fancy beach clothes said all you needed to know about what type of people they were. One of the girls had a pendant hanging round her neck that caught the light just right, and you found yourself staring at it as it jostled against her sweat-soaked collarbone.

Chnk, thuuunk. At the sound of the basement door sliding open you turned your head, and there stood Tommy in the kitchen. Quiet as ever he came walking up and placed his thick hand on your head. The look in his burning eyes said it all. “Everything's okay. Don't fret.” He touched your hair a moment until Hoyt's voice rang out again, and with a silent huff he stepped away and made his way out to the lawn.

The light in each and every one of their eyes left the moment they spotted him approaching. One of the girls even grabbed her friend’s arm, stepping behind him halfway out of fear of the hulking giant that couldn't sleep without cuddling you at night. A dish slipped from your hand into the sink and splashed you, but as you pulled a rag from your apron pocket to dry the counter a bang and a high-pitched scream cut through the peaceful din of your quiet afternoon. You hopped up to see what was happening, but struggled to piece together the aftermath of the last five seconds.

On the ground lay one of the girls with a cavernous opening in the back of her head, collapsed in a steadily-growing pool of her own blood. Her lifeless eyes stared through you from across the lawn, they pierced into your very soul as she choked listlessly on her own blood, and you dropped to your knees behind the counter. Hands clamped over your mouth, you heaved each breath and hoped not to puke all over the freshly-mopped floor. Momma would have a fit if you ruined your own hard work.

Blind to whatever senselessness resided in their screams, you held back the churning of your stomach on your own bruised knees while the two of them took care of the rest. Within a few minutes you'd managed to pull yourself back up on shaky feet and finish washing the dishes. Within the hour, Tommy and Uncle Hoyt had gathered up the remaining survivors and taken them in. Two in the barn, one in the guest bedroom…and one locked up in the basement.

“Momma?” You called out softly into the hallway, wiping your fingers on your apron. Your chores for the day were finished, and the sun was starting to set on the horizon. Now would usually be the time you headed out to the chicken coop to lock it up, but with new visitors around, you didn't know the protocol. The last time this happened was…well, you didn't like to think about it.

“Down here, darlin’.” Luda Mae popped her head out from the living room, and you hurried down the hall with your skirt fluttering around your legs. All your dresses were pretty modest and most of them were out of a trunk stored up in the attic, since momma had a whole collection of clothes she'd worn in her younger days that she figured would suit a young lady just fine. When you stepped in, you weren't expecting to see what you saw lying on the couch near uncle Monty's favourite spot.

It was one of the guys from the hippie van. His long hair had been soaked with blood and he was gagged, his face sporting bruises from an undoubtedly rough encounter with uncle Hoyt, who stood on the opposite side of the living room glaring at him.

“Fucker tried to escape.” He sniffed, nursing a bloody nose with a hanky as he spoke with momma. “Other one's putzin’ around somewhere. You two keep an eye out, you hear me?” He pointed in your direction and you nodded out of instinct. Your eyes flicked towards the bound man on the couch as he made muffled noises of panic, but he was soon silenced by Hoyt whacking him over the head with the butt of his shotgun before he left to continue the search. Meanwhile, uncle Monty sat in his wheelchair unbothered, listening to the radio as it played on the windowsill and reading without a care in the world.

“Momma-” You tried again, but she turned to you with gentle eyes and gripped your shoulders lightly.

“Go clean up the kitchen for me, sweetheart?” She asked in earnest, and the plea you had to beg her not to make you take part died on your lips.

“Yes, momma.”

“That's my good girl.” Your hands fell at your sides, while she petted your hair lovingly and turned you away from the scene, patting you on the back as she ushered you back towards the kitchen. Blowing your hair out of your eyes, you resigned yourself to at least being a bystander to the horrors that were about to come, and made your way down the hall with your arms crossed over your chest in contemplation. Was there nothing you could do? No way to get out of playing a part, or at least ensuring they wouldn't ask? You had no doubts that you didn't have the stomach to do anything to the visitors, but then again, momma didn't have to do much either. Maybe you'd be saved by the tradition that dictated the six generations-deep household, and be regulated to the homely chores you'd tended to since first becoming a part of the family.

As you pushed through the door that led into the kitchen, the sounds of pots and pans clattering already grabbed your attention. It would be too late to do anything, however–because before you could even take a breath, someone's chest hit your back and there was a knife pinned to your throat.

“Don't you fucking move!” An unfamiliar voice whispered harshly in your ear. Your fingers scrabbled for purchase on the hand he had at your neck, but he jolted and the blade sunk deeper into your skin, causing you to cry out–and immediately be hushed by the stranger now holding you hostage. The bruising grip he had on your wrist now moved to clamp over your mouth, his body moving with you as you struggled in a momentary panic. Despite his warning, you brought your elbow backwards and loosened his grip on the knife as he choked in pain, throwing his arms off you as you stumbled forward and tripped over one of the dining chairs. Your skirt ripped as he tried to grab ahold of you again, but in his scramble to pick his weapon back up you kicked it away; and that was when fear truly started to pulse through your limbs like a heartbeat, when he glared daggers into you with a murderous rage, and you cried out the one name through tears that came to mind.

“Tommy!” You sobbed, crawling away and trying to use the table to hoist yourself up, only to be kicked down again with a harsh shoe planted in the middle of your spine. Coughs ripped through your lungs as they seized in desperation, the wind having been knocked clean from your chest, and the sticky wetness of blood started pooling under your chin from hitting the floor face-first. Your nose wept with scarlet-red blood into your trembling palm, but that realization couldn't come close to the terror you felt at being grabbed by your hair and painfully lifted up off the ground.

“You fucking bitch!” He screamed, voice hoarse and frighteningly loud so close to your face. “I'll kill you–I'll kill all you psycho motherfuckers!” He brought the knife so close to your heart you felt it cutting through the air–but before he could bring it anywhere near your skin, a muffled thump from close by yanked him right to attention. He turned his head frantically towards the source, and you took the opportunity afforded to you. You brought your foot up hard into his groin, and released his grip on you for the second time for you to drop to the floor in a heap. Your dress smeared the blood you'd left on the pristine, freshly-mopped floorboards as you shuffled away from him, fearing the worst of retaliation from the panicked, indignant captive.

That is, until the thumping grew so loud you heard it clearly coming up the stairs, and without so much as a hint of ceremony your savior burst through the kitchen door; his eyes wild, his fists clenched with indomitable rage. His gaze swept over the scene to you, so small compared to him, huddled in the corner between the cabinets with a blood and tear-stained face. What could only be described as a growl erupted from his broad chest, and he grabbed the legs of your hunched-over assailant and dragged him closer between his feet.

“No!” He cried, but it was far past too late. Tommy grabbed him by the back of his head, yanked him upwards to the height of his shins, and slammed the guy's head so hard into the floor that you could hear the sickening crack of his skull. Dazed but still semi-conscious, he fumbled for the knife he dropped or for anything that could save him, but it wouldn't be enough even so. With his nose ten times as smashed up as he'd done to you and his eye sockets bruised, Tommy's grip trembled on his head like he was considering whether or not to end him right here, right now. Evidently he figured that would be too easy, and before your very eyes he hauled the man up and carried him screaming down into the basement, where you heard the thwacks of him being cuffed down to the workbench before footsteps came echoing back upstairs. He found you in the same spot, still shaking like a leaf, and pushed the table aside to waste as little time as possible getting to you.

“Tommy..” You winced, touching your own face for your fingers to come back bloody. He knelt down like a mountain sinking into the sea and felt around your neck, his concerns for the shallow slash you'd gotten in the struggle that you hadn't even noticed was bleeding. He grunted in reply; one hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, while two meaty fingers lightly pinched the sore bridge of your nose. Knowing what he was about to do wouldn't make it hurt any less, but you still gave him the go-ahead to do it anyways–he forced the bone back with a gut-churning twist, and you squealed out in pain, but it was momentary and the ache that followed was a dull one, thank god.

But still, you sat with a face full of blood and bruises and cried, half out of pain and half out of pure misery. This wasn't the life you wanted to lead, and you hated that you had no choice in the matter. You wanted to go but you knew it would mean the end, and you hated that whenever you thought of all the things you despised about this life, your mind would always wander to Tommy and you'd feel guilt over hurting him or leaving him behind. You hated it all, but somehow you couldn't really hate him, and it left you trapped in this cycle that you loathed to think would never, ever end.

While the tears continued to streak down your face, Tommy took to patting your cheeks gently. He held them and squeezed them carefully, so tender and cautious when it was you that was the meat between his destructive hands. He moved in close, his breathing hot and stifled beneath the mask he never took off in front of you. His head tilted, tongue wetting his lips in anticipation, and he-

“Boy!” Uncle Hoyt roared as he burst through the kitchen door, alerting you both and tearing Tommy's reverent gaze away from you. He stood fast and took you with him, your elbows cupped in his rough hands as he hauled you singlehandedly to your feet. “You find that fucker yet?!” He swung his shotgun around and you flinched at the way he aimed it so carelessly. The ‘boy’ in question tucked you under his arm out of habit and shielded you almost entirely with the sheer enormity of his titan-esque frame. Wordlessly, he gestured towards the direction of the basement door with your trembling self still pinned tightly to his chest. The pseudo-sherriff narrowed his eyes at the both of you, namely the blood caking your otherwise pretty face, and scoffed. “Hose her down, Jesus almighty..” He muttered that last blasphemy under his breath as he moved past out the back door, leaving the two of you wide-eyed and uncertain; his arm squeezing you tight against him, and your calloused fingers digging into his dirty sleeve as the crickets chirped outside the screen door.

“You..” You swallowed dryly. The words came to you when no others did the same justice. “You're a good boy, Tommy. You did a good job.”

Your praise hit his ears just right, as it always did. Tommy nuzzled his face into yours just so gently, barely grazing your skin with the damp leather as he tended to your wounds. With your broken nose already re-set, he rummaged through the drawers around you without taking his hand off your arm, sparing little time before his hand clasped around a roll of familiar gauze and he nudged the drawer closed. Though it was shallow enough to have stopped bleeding already, he wrapped some around your neck for the cut that would surely leave a scar, and used a clean rag to mop up your face with a bit of water from the tap. As he moved down your body to your waist, clearly concerned by the generous bloodstain marring your pretty, cotton dress, something caught his eye that froze him in place and sent a throbbing anger right into his dense fists. Worried, you set your hand on his shoulder, but it would do no good at comforting him after what he saw.

Your skirt. Torn like it had been yanked apart, desperately, and it had. Was he worried you'd be upset over the damage? You wondered for a passing moment, but as his fists shook with rage and your dresses’ hem balled within them you knew it to be a different reason entirely. He thought–

Oh. So that's what he thought. You sought to comfort his fears but he'd had enough. Your delicate hands tugging at his mammoth arms made barely a dent in his intense march towards the basement, your begging too saccharine to even reach his ears. He walked with purpose into the hallway, wrenched open the sliding door with a force that bent it slightly, and with a palm outstretched to ward you off from following, he slammed it shut with an enormous bang that rattled the whole house. Standing there in shock and horror, you listened to his footsteps pounding the stairs before turning away and heading back towards the kitchen.

You had quite the mess to clean up in there, and there was nothing better to distract yourself from the howling screams of agony that would persist until dinnertime.

Maybe this was exactly how awkward it was when you'd been sat in that familiar chair. You remembered little of your first meal, the very first breakfast of many you would share with the family that had adopted you in to their home.

This was a lot less…friendly, though. Out of the five people who had arrived, two of them were dead. The one that had attacked you in the kitchen had grown silent in the basement. The other two–the hippy with the long hair and a redheaded girl–had their wrists bound to two chairs diagonal from each other. The guy sat at the very end where you'd once been, and the girl to his right with tears streaming down her cheeks, sobbing softly as you filled everyone's bowls. Luckily for you, Monday was chicken soup night, so you had no worries over what kind of meat Hoyt would want to prepare for the special occasion. You'd been the only one to stir the pot, and the only one who made it at all for every Monday that rolled around. It had quickly become Tommy’s favourite, hence why he was only a few minutes late to arrive outside the dining room for dinner. Though you could tell that he'd barely cleaned up, his apron and his pants still soaked liberally with clotted blood.

“Hands?” You questioned, your ladle poised over the pot of hot soup, and waited until the hulking giant tentatively stepped in the doorway to hold out his massive hands for inspection. When it was your turn to cook, you learned that you held the authority over the table for that evening. So you rarely followed the lead of uncle Hoyt or the others, and wouldn't wait until after grace to invite Tommy into the room. You checked over his knuckles–bruised, but scrubbed clean–and only then did you nod towards the seat you saved for him and waited until he settled uncertainly into the chair to pour him a bowl and set it down in front of him.

If not for the whimpering captives at the table, it would be a better-than-average night. You'd improved on your recipe with a bit of creative seasoning, and the night had cooled off considerably to offer a bit of respite from the oppressive heat. You led grace, and smoothing out your fresh dress to fan out under your thighs as you sat, the table commenced with clinking spoons and bread being buttered that you thanked the stars hadn't gotten stale yet. Though of course, the unexpected visitors weren't so keen on your homemade cooking and didn't so much as look down at their bowls.

Tommy was too distracted to be frustrated by it, though. With his head dipped down to the table like a mutt, he slurped up his soup through the mask and chewed noisily on bits of chicken and corn. You'd saved the biggest roll for him and he tore into it like it was nothing, ripping chunks of bread off with his teeth and enthusiastically gulping down broth to wash it down. You hadn't even had time to butter his bread for him first like you usually did, but it pleased you to see him enjoying your cooking even more than usual.

“Please,” A wobbly voice pricked at the tense silence. The redheaded girl pulled at her restraints again, shaking the table in the process. “We didn't do anything…please, please, let us go!” She sobbed, wailing even louder as she thrashed against the stiff arms of the old chair.

“C'mon, man! We won't tell anyone, swear!” The hippie chimed in, only for Hoyt to slam his fist down on the table to silence the whining of his two captives.

“Shut the hell up!” He snarled, whipping out a revolver from his holster to point at each one of them. “Had enough of your shit today. Shut your mouths.” He motioned towards his still-bloodied nose, and endured yet another scolding from momma for cussing at the table as he tucked the gun back into its place. You peered over at the two of them, but regret came immediately when the hippie's green eyes locked on yours like he saw a glimmer of hope within them. You forced your gaze back down to your bowl. You couldn't be their saviour, no matter how much they wanted you to be.

“Lovely soup, sweetheart.” Momma smiled over at you, while uncle Monty nodded quietly in agreement.

“Mm-hm. Momma taught you all her secrets, eh?” Hoyt added with a slurp off his spoon, the irritation from earlier having vanished. You thanked them politely, keeping your pride to yourself at the coveted praise directed your way. In a household where anything could go wrong at any time, you had to hold the good things as tight to your chest as you possibly could.

From beside you, Tommy lifted his head from an empty bowl and sighed softly with satisfaction. The remnants of spilled soup dribbled down his mask and his grimy neck, so with your own cloth napkin you reached over and did the job that was normally momma's; you wiped his face clean with a gentle hand, and he sat still for one of the only people he didn't flinch away from when you touched him.

“Good, Tommy?” He wasn't used to being asked his opinion, much less on something as scarce as food, when you didn't have much choice on what you ate. He nodded slowly, looking at you like you held the world as you finished wiping up the mess he'd left on the table.

Just then, one of the captives–maybe both of them–kicked their legs out in frustration, and shifted the table with a jolt that sent hot soup splashing out of the pot. The redhead's bowl tipped over and dumped her untouched meal all over her lap, but the porcelain shattering as it hit the floor wasn't what had Tommy rising out of his seat.

Wasteful. That's what they were. Insulting your cooking. You saw it in Tommy's eyes as anger overwhelmed him again, and for the second time tonight your reassurances weren't enough to halt him in his tracks. His chair legs scraped the floor loudly as he got up and maneuvered around the table, the tense quiet peppered by the screams of the girl as he grabbed the back of her head and slammed it down into the slick tabletop. Not nearly as hard as he'd done to the other guy, but enough so that he brought her back up with a nose gushing blood and a harsher sob on her lips.

“You teach her a lesson, Tommy!” Hoyt eagerly encouraged the violence, but you reached your hand out over the table and pressed your palm flat against her forehead. At the resistance you gave her, Tommy's grip grew slack and a look of panic came over him at the distress etched clear on your face. He looked conflicted, peering over at Hoyt and then back at you. Was he being bad, or being good? Was what he was doing right, or was it wrong? Hoyt started shouting and cussing at you for stopping him, but Tommy skirted back around the table to your side and put himself between you and his furious uncle. A swat to the back of the head wasn't totally uncommon for you, even if it didn't happen often, but the punishments Tommy received were always far worse. The belt or a two-by-four were considered light work in Hoyt's sadistic mind, but after what you'd been through today you were certain Tommy wouldn't be keen on letting you endure any more pain. He would take punishments and beatings for you whenever he had the chance–sometimes Hoyt had even asked him what he preferred, and not once had he put you up for the chopping block if he could take it for you.

“Enough of this shit!” Hoyt finally roared. He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the basement and shoved both you and Tommy towards it. “Take these sons a’ bitches downstairs, and don't come up until they're meat!”

Both of the captives shrieked and flailed in their chairs at his demand, but you managed to undo their binds despite the struggling and let Tommy haul each one up in his arms; one over his shoulder, and one tucked up under his armpit. Your heartbeat thudded in your throat as you followed Tommy's lead towards the stairs, and when it came time to shut the door, you had to swallow your fear with a gulp as the metal scraped on metal and a heavy thunk pitched you into darkness.

The only times you'd watched Tommy work before was when he'd taken you to the slaughterhouse. It was an aging, now-abandoned building that had seen generations of hard workers come and go, and despite it no longer being in business he still came by to do some work when he wasn't needed for chores at the house. You weren't sure why he didn't usually take you along or why he decided to on those few occasions, but regardless of the stench, the blood, and the intensity of chopping and cleaning meat, it was easy to tell that Tommy was good at it. Real good.

It was a little different today. About a week had passed since the visitors came through town, and by now all five of them were taken care of. You'd barely eaten since you couldn't stomach the fresh meat, and with you excusing yourself to throw up that first dinner after you'd had guests, the rest of the family had been looking down on you. Momma was sad for you, and Monty was mostly indifferent when he wasn't straight up disappointed in you. But Hoyt was vindictive and angry. He thought you were turning your back on the family, judging them, acting “all high and mighty” and worst of all, risking your family's safety. You'd gotten caught leaving the locks loose on the two survivors' shackles, and they'd nearly escaped out the basement before Hoyt caught both of them in the cornfield and finally shot them dead.

You swore it was an accident. Hoyt thought otherwise. He would've killed you right then and there if Tommy hadn't stepped in for you, and even then the air had been strained in the house ever since, as uncle Hoyt demanded you be properly punished for your sins.

That's why you'd been dragged along with Tommy to accompany him to the slaughterhouse. By the end of the day, Hoyt wanted a proper apology–one in the form of a bloody limb, an organ, or maybe just your head on a platter as recompense for betraying your family. And worst of all, he wanted Tommy to be the one to do it, to decide what would be a fitting price for you to pay. To ‘grow some balls and be a man’, as Hoyt put it so delicately.

But since morning, he'd just been chopping meat. Tommy hadn't even looked at you the whole time you'd been here, not even on the walk down the side of the road to get here in the first place. He'd picked you up under your arms and sat you up on the table behind him, and then he'd turned his back to you as he brought down his cleaver on the piles and piles of dripping meat. Sometimes he would turn around and hand you chunks to wrap up in butcher's paper, but for the most part he indicated nothing towards the task he had primarily been sent here to do. Somehow it just made it all worse; you felt on the edge of snapping from the anxious terror that tightened up all your muscles, wondering what on earth Tommy would do to you before the day was done. Was he just procrastinating? Because if he arrived back home with nothing to show for it, it wouldn't save you in the end–it would just make it worse for both of you when he got punished too.

“Tommy.” You gnawed on your bottom lip. He brought the blade down on the chopping block with a thunk. With the bone separated, a squelch hit your ears as he slid the sections apart and dragged over another hunk to slice through. “I'm sorry.”

Thunk. Not even a passing glance over his shoulder. And it was hard to tell if he was mad when he wouldn't even look at you.

“I didn't want to get you in trouble…”

Thunk.

“I was just scared.”

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

“Tommy-”

The slow escalation of his measured cuts finally culminated into an uproarious clatter, his cleaver smacking down on the soaked table before he turned himself to face you. Blood marred the clothes you'd taken off the laundry line for him that morning, apron slick and sticky with viscera as it almost always was. Sweat poured down his arms and his hairy chest and beaded at his dense forehead. Every inch of him was dirty, and yet you didn't cringe away from it when he closed the distance between you and came up harrowingly close. The stench of blood and meat wafted off of him from barely an inch away. His hips edged in between your knees as you sat on the lip of the counter, keeping personal space far from his mind when he grabbed your arms and dwarfed them under his massive fingers. Each breath heaved beneath his mask like swallowing a bubble, ready to pop.

This time, Hoyt was nowhere around to interrupt him. Momma wasn't there to scold him. Nobody would hear for miles what he would do to you, and you had no idea what he'd had brewing in his mind since he'd choked you out in the cornfield that first meeting. That intense stare of his was like a bear honing in on a rabbit, and if you had the thought to run, it was already too late.

Thick fingers clamped down around your neck, dug into the scar that had formed from the asshole that had sliced you, and you felt your heart stutter as Tommy pulled you along the length of the table and slammed you down into it by the throat. This way you were laid out like a cow would to be butchered, plenty of room for him to work as he held you down and reached over to pull a leather strap over your midsection. He affixed the buckle tight to the opposite side and tightened it more when you squirmed against the pressure, but not quite enough to be as painful as the ropes that dug into your wrists at your first family meal. With that in place he didn't need to hold you down to keep you pinned against the table, and although you whimpered in fear and fought against the bindings he paid your resistance little mind, instead looking through his tools on the cutting table to find a decently-sized paring knife–drenched liberally in blood–for him to hook under the neckline of your dress and make a cut down the middle. Once he hit the tough leather over your stomach, the tool skittered across the table as he abandoned it in favour of ripping your skirt apart with his bare hands, the thin layer of cotton offering no resistance to his brute strength.

Why did it make you so wet? You couldn't shake the feeling of arousal from how animalistic he was behaving, nor the sheer, overwhelming musk of man and sweat and blood. Tommy was never rough with you but he was certainly making up for it now; you flinched at the firmness of his fingers digging into your skin, leaving trails of thin blood and dirt behind as he tore your cotton bra into loose pieces. His hands trembled at the sight of you exposed like this, too much skin to handle, and such soft flesh that filled out his palms when he cupped your breasts in each eager hand. A hitch of breath was enough to show him that you liked it, whether it was the attention itself or exclusively because it was him touching you. It didn't matter.

Tommy massaged each one with such eager reverence, his handwork clumsy compared to the ease with which he handled so many other forms of meat. He wasn't keen on ripping these off your body and eating them; although he did want to test how they would feel in his mouth, especially those plum, soft nubs of yours that perked when he brushed his thumbs over them. By now you weren't completely certain he wasn't going to butcher you, but you had a pretty good idea that this was his plan B–take out that inner aggression on you that would not make his god-fearing family proud.

A deep, weighty groan slipped out of him at the taste of sweat on your skin. Every bruise he left with his teeth would have to be covered up and powdered, but god, god it was so easy for him to undo every vestige of purity you'd put on for show. Your back arched and your worn shoes squeaked against the steel table as you wiggled, the globes of fat he held in his palms jiggling with a mesmerizing glow every time you moved. As much as you wanted to wrench yourself free in some moments, in most others you couldn't bear the breaks he took to catch his breath, leaving your chest prickling with goosebumps as a draft hit your spit-sticky skin. He squeezed and kneaded to his heart's content and took a twisted glee out of making you squirm, especially when you made those gurgly noises that were so traitorous to the pristine image you painted for momma. She'd made it clear that you weren't to go off messing with boys when they came strolling up to the store's counter, or return any of their flirtations no matter how many times they called you pretty.

Obviously she didn't think her son would be the one you had to keep from tempting, but that train had long left the station now. Thomas’ index finger tore through the thin fabric of your panties with a swipe, and there you laid bare and naked to his wandering eyes while he yanked the shreds of them down the rest of your legs. He probably didn't know what positions were which and how girls had their periods, but he knew enough to slide those thick fingers through your folds and to keep going when you moaned like a dying animal. “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy”, it was a mantra that hit his ears just right and urged him into clambering on top of the table with you with wild eyes. They drank in every inch of your sweltering body, the pulse of your heart through the hole he was jamming his fingers into, and on instinct he was guided to push down his waistband and throw off his apron as he knelt back on his haunches.

You might've thought he was nothing but hair if he wasn't so thick. Clearly he'd never shaved in his life with the erroneous bush he sported, curly hair matting down his thighs and his belly too once his shirt started riding up. But that fat, drooling knob of his swayed to hit his thigh, and you got an eyeful of pure, veiny, gut-smashing terror that you were sure would kill you if you didn't manage to relax. The further he leaned over your body, the more you felt like he was going to crush you as soon as he lined himself up with the hole he'd be stretching out like a little homemade cock sleeve. His hands slid under your knees to prop them up, but rather than sling them over his shoulders he bent them back and pinned them to your chest. An aching burn raced up your thighs but he paid no mind to your trembling; Tommy knelt over you and settled between your legs, and without warning, started sinking slowly into that hot opening he'd been dying to get deeper inside.

“H-Hold–wait, T-Tommy, hold oh-!”

Were you really so convinced he would play nice with you? Maybe you'd become complacent with the gentleness he showed you at his best, because when Tommy finally pressed in past the tip, he was gone. Forcing your knees back even further, he let out a groan and pushed himself up higher over you; all just to settle himself into your deepest pits and trap you in a violating mating press. After doing nothing but enjoying your heat, smushing his hips down against yours in a grinding motion, he soon seemed to realize he could move–and move he did, drawing back just to crush your hips with a deep, stomach-punching stroke.

“Unh,” What most resembled a moan fell from his scarred lips, and he fumbled around the back of his head to unclasp the leather from his face. This was the first and only time he'd ever felt safe enough to take it off since you'd met, and it was when he'd finally listened to his body and acted on his need to force every inch of him inside you. To be one. Now you finally were, and his synthetic face dropped on your chest before slowly sliding off to hit the floor.

If your jaw hadn't already gone slack from his violent thrusting, it would probably fall from the realization of what hid under that mask day after day. The sallow, sunken nose, the scars, the jagged skin and self-inflicted wounds…why wasn't it as scary as you thought? You figured, in the moment, you'd just gotten too used to him in personality, or maybe because you were just too distracted at the moment, but…

“Tommy-!” You squeaked out. The wet smack of his balls on your ass stuck in your ears, the strings of creamy slick linking you flesh-to-flesh as he went to town on your pussy. If he truly was losing his virginity to you, then all that pent-up frustration must be the source of him absolutely ruining any semblance of tightness you might've had. “A-Are you tryin’ to–you wanna gimme a baby? S'that it?” You slurred, slowly losing your good sense the longer he showed you your place.

Though you thought it would be to your horror, his slow nod only sparked something dark and tremulous within your loins. Something more than sweat and slick and the vile squelching of his seldom-washed dick rubbing up to your womb. It hit you then; this was your punishment. Every clap and sticky smack of flesh on flesh was a promise, an urge fulfilled to tear your meat from the bone and thrust a new purpose unto you. A homemaker. Tommy's little bride. A momma. Make his momma a grandmama like she was always praying for.

Shluck. Shluck. Shluck. Shluck. No doubt in your mind that was exactly what he was doing, and exactly why he brought you all the way out to the slaughterhouse to do it. The leather strap over your stomach kept you from wriggling away, but that would only be if you could somehow get him to pull out, and that for sure wasn't happening. He didn't bother with long strokes and leaving the tip in, your cunt was a home for him to bury himself in and he wasn't about to waste a second of this. His thick thighs trembled over yours, and he ground the swollen head of his cock deep against your cervix. So deep it was painful, but why would he care? He was doing a good thing. He was being a good boy, giving you what uncle Hoyt told him all women wanted, even if they didn't say it out loud.

Tommy's moans grew to a higher pitch once he affixed his hand like a necklace round your throat, swelling with the faster, faster, faster pace of his thrusts downward. He pressed his other meaty hand into your knees and shoved each one further apart, which made you whine but gave him easier access to pound you into greedy, delectable mush. Whereas it might've turned off weaker men, your nails digging deep, long scratches up his back made Tommy groan and tilt his head back in delirious pleasure. His knees kept you pinned at your sides and his weight–his stomach squishing into you from above–held you down where you belonged, where you'd be the most beautiful and of best use. Beneath him with a womb spilling over with cum, sown by his seed and his seed alone. His picturesque, pretty little wife. Hewitt property. He wouldn't stop, and you wouldn't beg him to even if you weren't being choked of any air you had left, and the world started to spin as the ecstasy took hold and Thomas was squeezing your moans out of you with trembling fervour. It felt as though your lower half exploded and left you with a warm, full, tingly sensation, marred by pearly-white globs of a load he'd had saved up since birth.

In contrast to the violent lovemaking he'd just shown you he was capable of, you were slowly brought back to life by small, soft little pecks. Kisses like the fuzz of a bumblebee brushing by your cheeks, pressing into your lips with a sweetness you weren't used to. This felt like Tommy again, like the gentle touch he used when nobody was around to laugh at him for being so sweet on you. He shuddered with bliss as his cock pulsed with your heartbeat and milked him of what little he had left, but with his chubby fingers rubbing at your jaw and brushing your sweaty locks aside he managed to drag himself off of you. Slowly, like molasses on a cold day, he brought himself back down off the table and let his feet hit the floor, having to brace himself against the table to keep from stumbling to the ground. Click-shuuunk. The leather belt snapped back into its holder as he released it, which left a sizeable indent across your abdomen that you'd have to hope would be covered enough not to show bruises. All you could do was watch as Tommy did up his pants on his way around the table, only to return to your side with the biggest, sharpest knife you swore you had ever seen. You flinched away and nearly cried out-

Shlip. With a strand pulled taut, Tommy made quick work of separating a lock of your hair from your head. Just a short one, so as not to make much difference–but he held it to his face and sniffed deeply, and it ashamed you to say that the gesture in itself just made your clit throb with need you thought you'd been completely overdosed on. Despite that, you laid still while Tommy reached over and retrieved his mask, tucking the tuft of hair inside it so he could smell it all the time. To calm him down, to cool him off, to just enjoy…all the things that you brought to him when no one else did, or could. From his pocket he produced something small and shiny, and dangled it over your face to show you before he set on fixing it around your neck. The pendant you'd seen that girl wearing a week ago now hung against your collar, the gleam of gold in it polished clean of the blood spilled to take it.

You barely let out a moan as he set on rearranging your limbs, turning you over, letting his cum spill down your thighs and all over the table like the blood from a fresh cut of beef. His calloused digits traced down your spine and up again til he found a sweet spot, and padded down your springy flesh that separated bone from his fingers. The carving knife had tinged when he'd sharpened it but he didn't show it to you–that would be too much for you, given what he was about to commit to.

Every arc, long and curved or short and straight, burned. The tip of the blade dug into your flesh like a red-hot needle, but Tommy's warm palm on the back of your neck kept you from moving out of his reach. He needed to start and to finish and his hand was already unsteady, mostly from the way his breath still hitched and his cock stirred all over again at the sight of your writhing body. Your blood turned him on. He hadn't touched any of the victims before you, not in that way, but you weren't really the same as them–no, you were special. If you weren't, Tommy wouldn't be carving those words into your back, and putting on display his ownership over the one and only thing he would ever see as more than meat.

If you didn't get pregnant this time, then this would surely be enough for the family to forgive. The letters scrawled in bloody ecstasy that would heal over, scar, wounds to be reopened over and over again.

Tommy's girl

forever

[garciaasfluffypen]

take care of me (like i take care of you) pt.1

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: emily smokes in this one (SMOKING IS DANGEROUS LADIES, GAYS AND THEYS pls dont ruin ur lungs), reader is mentioned to vape but it is not shown, female terms of endearment - "little miss", y/n has a minor flashback to a previous relationship where they got belittled that leads to an rsd breakdown a/n: THIS PART GOT TOO LONG AND I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE MAIN PLOT POINT UNTIL 2.4k WORDS IN so its being split into two parts teehee :) also... i should have put this in the first part, but the house they live in is jj's house from cm evolution bc i'm quite literally obsessed with it anyway pls ignore the fact that it's clearly not three femme presenting humans holding hands i couldn't find a gif like that anywhere

you all had been blessed with a whole week off. a whole week that you got to spend with your favorite people in the entire world and not have to worry about being called in.

it had been ages since you had a whole week where you didn’t have to worry about a single work thing bothering you. the last time you had done this, you had convinced your then best friends to take you to their favorite park and have a picnic, go to the movies and even take you to the trader joes to get your favorite snacks. but this week, this week was different. firstly, you were now dating your best friends, and had been told to stay at theirs as long as you wanted to. you hadn’t left except to go to your apartment and grab a suitcase full of clothes. secondly, the case you had just finished drained the hell out of the three of you. a majority of the time was spent curled up on the couch cycling through shows on netflix and amazon prime, everyone taking turns picking a show to watch while eating leftover chinese food and cuddling. but today you were determined to get out of the house.

the local zoo was holding a sale to celebrate the birth of a new baby giraffe, which happened to be some of your favorite animals ever. so naturally, you got three tickets for the three of you last night and made sure you were up before both of your girlfriends to ensure you got your hands on tickets to feed the giraffes. it had been on your bucket list for a long time. ever since you were little, giraffes had intrigued you. they just looked so soft and cuddly. and you wanted to touch one. so, so bad. 

which is how you found yourself up at seven in the morning, squeezing yourself out from between the two older women and seaking downstairs, curling up in the armchair that you had claimed to yourself and grabbing your ipad. well, technically it was emily’s but she barely used it so therefore it was yours. you had all your favorite games on it anyway, so it was only fair that you used it more since you liked to play games on the jet. making sure you got to the website bright and early, you went to the page where you needed to buy the giraffe experience tickets and waited patiently until 7:30am hit and the first wave of tickets were sent out into the interwebs. within minutes, you had the three tickets you needed in your email. the next step to buttering up your girlfriends for a day at the zoo was to make breakfast. 

you knew exactly what breakfast each of them liked, and had memorized it a few weeks prior for moments like this. emily loved her bacon crispy, her eggs over easy and a marlboro gold by the bay window. jj, on the other hand, loved when you made the pillsbury biscuits with honey and butter, some sort of potato and getting kisses from both you and emily. considering emily usually woke up a little bit before you and jj on a typical day, you decided to start on hers first. you grabbed the box of cigarettes from her purse and put it over by the seat next to the kitchen table, opening the window so the cool dc air would flow through the kitchen as you cooked. sometimes you were tempted to light up a cigarette and see what they were like, but you couldn’t let go of your favorite fruity little flavors. that was another thing you added to your mental list of things to never let emily find out, since you knew she’d give you the look that she gives you whenever you’ve somehow disappointed her. 

jj had found out by a total accident a while ago, clocking your antsiness before you even did. you had stepped out for a breath of fresh air, not realizing that jj had followed you until you were mid hit and felt a presence behind you. while she had been disappointed, she knew that the oral fixation couldn’t be stopped if you weren’t chewing on your chewy necklace. you did your best to wear it, but sometimes the need for the nicotine buzz was stronger than your little necklace and you wanted to feel the dopamine. she sat with you outside while you tried to explain the way it made you feel, and she sat there the whole time and listened to you. she made you promise to lower the nicotine level, which you agreed to, but kept forgetting to go down whenever you stopped by the shop. 

despite the fear looming over you of disappointing emily, you couldn’t help but realize everything had been so easy with them. from communicating your needs to even just asking for them to sit with you. they made sure you were their number one priority. to this day, you were still scared of waking up in your dingy one bedroom all alone and still single. but now, here you were, slowly moving your stuff into their apartment and preparing to leave most of your old appliances at the local goodwill. it was a pleasant change, knowing you were moving somewhere nice and calm and where people supported your every move. where they wouldn’t yell at you when you forgot to refill the soap, or restock the cheese drawer after a grocery trip. 

shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you heard the bedroom door creak open and the padding of emily’s sock feet grew louder as you started smiling. 

“you’re up early,” emily beamed at you. “what’re you doing?”

“taking care of my girlfriends.” you shrugged. “cigs are on the table for you next to your window.” 

emily narrowed her eyes playfully at you. “you have a plan for today, don’t you?” 

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t.” you playfully smiled back at her. “you gotta wait for jayje to wake up.” 

“you know, you can be bad at hiding things sometimes.” emily came over to you and wrapped her arms around your waist. “you have the cheesiest grin on your face right now.” 

“can i not just make breakfast for my girlfriends when i want to?” 

emily placed a peck on your cheek, then captured your lips in a kiss. “you’re a devious little thing, lovey.” 

“and you adore me for it.”

“that i do.” 

you placed another kiss on emily’s lips before ushering her over to her window, grabbing the sheet pan of biscuits and slipping them into the oven. you relished these small moments with emily, where it was the two of you. you got these moments with jj at night, since emily typically stayed at the office later than you guys did. taking the mornings with just the two of you was something you tried to do more often than not, since you craved quality time with both of them. you loved having time with both of them together, but alone time with each of your girlfriends was something you cherished. you made sure to get emily’s coffee mug filled just the right amount and bought it over to the table, wrapping your arms around her from behind as the smoke flowed from between her lips. you had at least five more minutes before you had to start cooking the bacon and eggs, which meant you could sit with emily and bask in the moment. 

before you knew it, jj made her way into the kitchen, smiling widely as she came and wrapped her arms around you as you stood over the pan. your eyes momentarily closed as you leaned back into the blonde, letting her place a few kisses on your neck before turning around and capturing her in a kiss. you smiled at her before turning back to the bacon, making sure that side was crispy as you could get it before flipping it around. 

“what’s all this?”

“well… i uh, i had a plan for us today.”

you saw emily struggle to hold back a chuckle out of the corner of your eye.

“can you guys both be ready by nine thirty? no wait, be ready by nine fifteen and in the car by nine thirty because we need to be at the place by nine fifty in order to beat the crowds and get to where we need to be on time for our tickets because our tickets are for eleven.” you paused, looking at your girlfriends. “can you be ready by nine fifteen?” 

“i mean, yeah.” jj looked over to emily. “do you know the plan?”

“just that little miss over here woke up before us and i woke up with no blankets on me because in the midst of everything you stole all of them.” emily joked, poking her tongue out at jj. 

you started rocking up to the balls of your feet. “so um… there might be a new baby giraffe at the zoo and i might have gotten us tickets because i really really wanted to see the giraffes and they’re my favorites and they were running a sale because of the new baby and--” 

jj chuckled. “you are adorable, did you know that?” 

“is that a yes?”

“of course it's a yes, bubs.” jj placed a kiss on your cheek. “i’d love to go to the zoo with you.” 

“emmy?” you looked over to emily, the new nickname slipping out of your lips with ease. “can you come to the zoo with us? you’ll probably say no which is okay because i can always invite penelope or tara but-”

“why would you think i’d say no?” 

negative feelings overflowed your system as you remembered vividly the face that had been pulled when you asked to go to the zoo or do anything you considered fun. you felt yourself slipping into a dissociative state, fingers looking for something to stim on as you worked through your feelings. the harsh words of “why the fuck would you want to go to the zoo?” reverberated through as memories of one of your previous flings flew to the front of your mind. the shame you felt for wanting to enjoy your time together became unbearable and overwhelming, making you realize that your girlfriends could become annoyed with you like that and change their minds. what if they thought you were childish? what if they figured out you were too much for them?

emily looked over to jj. “did i say something?” 

“i don’t know. i don’t think so?” jj looked over to you, your eyes glazed over. “um.. shit wait, okay, i think they’re having an rsd episode, i’ll get their work bag. the marble fidget they use to calm down is in there.” 

emily scooted out from behind the table as she put her cigarette out, sneaking behind you to grab the pan off the stove before the bacon burned. she put her arms around you and pulled you close, running her hand up and down your back lightly as she waited for you to come out of your funk. she locked eyes with jj as she came back into the room, digging through the bag for the fidget toy in question, sticking it in your hands before you could start scratching at the side of your nails. a few minutes passed before you came back, the feeling of both emily and jj’s arms around you grounding you in the present, pushing the negative feelings to the back of your mind.

“‘m sorry.” 

“it's okay, lovey. do you want to talk about it?” 

“um… can you just… i’m not too much, right?” 

emily pulled back. “what makes you think that?” 

“whenever i asked about doing things that i liked, nobody really wanted to do them.” you looked down shamefully. “i shouldn’t have presumed you’d want to go with me.” 

“y/n y/l/n” blue eyes looked into your own. “you don't need to hide yourself with us. never hide yourself with us. you’re allowed to have your likes and act on them.” 

“but-”

“ah ah,” jj tilted your chin up, making you look at her. “don’t you dare.” 

it was almost as if a switch had been flipped in jj, her eyes darkening slightly as she stared at you. it caused your legs to turn to jelly, rendering you practically useless in your girlfriend's arms. you weren’t entirely sure what was happening, but it sent a wave of excitement through your veins. 

“we’re going to the zoo with you, we’re going to have fun, and we’re going to have a good day.” jj shot emily a ‘we need to talk about this’ glance before continuing. “go get dressed and ready for the day, we’ll finish our breakfasts and go enjoy the zoo.” she gave you a pointed look. “capeesh?”

all you could do was nod, your eyes widening in… whatever this feeling was that you were feeling. 

“words, y/n.”

“y-yes.” you swallowed. “okay.” 

jj smiled, switching back to her normal self and placing a kiss on your lips. “thank you for breakfast, by the way. it smells delicious.” 

you shyly smiled back. “i wanted you to be in a good mood before i asked you to go to the zoo.” 

emily pulled you in for a hug. “you never have to do anything for us to be in a good mood around you. we-” she paused. “there’s nothing you could do to put us in a foul mood.” 

“are you sure?”

“we’re sure. now go get ready, lovey, we’ll be up in a little bit when we finish our breakfast.” it was emily’s turn to kiss you. “don’t forget your meds.”

“oh shit, my meds!” 

emily and jj watched you run out of the room, both of the older women chuckling. emily wrapped her arms around jj, placing her head on her shoulder. 

“we’re going to need to work on talking about feelings, huh?” 

jj nodded. “it seems like it.” 

“would it be too much to castrate the exes who hurt them?” 

“uh… yes? we’re not castrating anyone.” jj lightly slapped emily’s arm. “go finish your bacon, we have places to be.” 

“we do need to have a serious talk with them about it, at some point.”

“yeah,” jj agreed. “lets just… they need to know we’re here for them. let’s focus on them the rest of the week and go from there.” 

emily nodded. “we’ll go from there.”

taglist: @jayden-prentiss

[monophobix]

INITIAL THOUGHTS ON ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT 1 (EPISODES 1-3)

(i’m not good at putting my thoughts into words so feel free to give your own opinions, i rlly wanna hear them)

SPOILERS AHEAD///

ok so my biggest critique is the pacing. everything is very quick very fast and a lot is going on. i understand that this is immediately after a large event which of course caused a reaction however it was just very intense and a lot to keep up with especially considering the amount of new and confusing things introduced throughout the three episodes with minimal slow down. it was alittle difficult to keep up. the timeline of the show is confusing and i have no idea how long it has been between scenes. viktor was barely in that weird healing chamber for a few scenes before he was emerging as someone new. caitlyn and vi were going from loving to fighting to understanding to fighting again very quickly with little time to develop independently, their kiss and divorce weren’t even 30 minutes apart from each other. also, who the fuck is this kid hanging around with jinx?? why is she following her, why doesn’t she talk, what’s her name, how long has she been with her?? this lack of time to let things develop has caused these episodes to feel rushed.

with this introduction of many new things some have left me with a lot of questions. my biggest issue revolves around the arcane. i literally do not recall it being mentioned or being an important topic in s1 but all of a sudden jayce knows a fuck ton about it as well as heimerdinger? when did he learn this? i assume it’s from viktors notes and research but that still fails to cover the amount of knowledge jayce now possesses.

HOWEVER THE ARCANE IS VERY COOL AND IM VERY VERY INVESTED. i absolutely love the changes to viktor, his weird apathy and changes are definitely rushed but so interesting to see, his design and behaviour are so very compelling and im very excited to see the development. additionally, this group dynamic between jayce, ekko and heimerdinger is soooooo fun. it offers a break from the intensity with some silliness i think is desperately needed, plus it’s super satisfying to see the trio bounce off each other. that final scene of them in ep3 was visually incredible and i loved seeing the effects upon the hextech weapons during the jinx, sevika vs vi, caitlyn fight. the scene of viktor amongst the shimmer infected was very interesting and it was so cool to truly see the severe effects of shimmer and the inhumanity of viktor is making a clear route towards his glorious evolution which is am keen to watch.

that ambessa reveal at the end was INCREDIBLE. i genuinely didn’t see it coming and it made my jaw DROP. the quiet, smart suspicion from mel is always incredible to see, her political mind and morals conflicting is so very engaging and she’s really developing into herself in these episodes which was a joy to witness. the mystery of her brother is compelling and links well through s1 and s2 to make the storyline fun to follow. i also simply must compliment the designs revolving around the noxians and animal-esque (sorry idk what they’re called) people. the absolute variety and inspiration from real life cultures is beautiful to see. i am incredibly confused about the magic and that one lady (amara?) but i assume that’ll be answered in later episodes.

jinx is not looking good lmao. i love her design being so corpse-like and deathly, it really fits well and really embraces the differences between powder and jinx. but i do wish we saw more of her. i see her actions but i lack understanding for some of them, primarily revolving around the child (isha?) and why the kids even there but the newfound bond between sevika and jinx is refreshing to see. the scene of them in silcos old office brought a smile to my face and the design of that fucking arm is soooo cool i love the clownish purely jinx vibe to it.

caitlyn is probably the stand out character so far (plus maybe viktor). her absolute grief and seeing her facade break down throughout the episodes was heartbreaking, the tentative yet conflicting moments of softness with vi were beautiful yet had that perfect undercurrent of tragedy that arcane masters so well. her rage and break up with vi was easy to see coming yet so incredibly jarring to watch, that harsh and merciless behaviour is so different from s1, the development is well done and a morbid pleasure to see. and that final episode. oh my. the shock to acceptance of darkness was fantastic, ambessa truly is a master at manipulating weakness in even the strongest of people and seeing this duo is going to be so soul crushing that i’m itching for more.

vi felt very rushed to me and alittle dry? idk why tho i can’t really explain it. i understand her choices but it felt like something was missing until that final scene with cait. that was an absolute masterpiece. seeing her realising that the horrors of war is corrupting everyone around her and pleading for it to please not happen is so so SO fucking sad and my heart was breaking. i loved seeing her moral strength and solidity to her values which has always been a key part of her character so i appreciate the consistency. idk why something about her was just… different.

the opening scene was incredible. the absolute horror of it was so clear and i was literally shaking the entire time. 10/10 opening.

overall, i hope things slow down alittle but i greatly enjoyed season 2 and im very excited to see the characters develop and to see even more of this beautiful world.

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo: A Beginner's Guide

For all of you newcomers out there, here's a list that I've wanted to do for a while now. For those who are new to Halo, likely introduced by the TV Show, and want to get into it, here's my 2 cents on how to ease into the franchise.

The Games

Play the original four games PLUS Halo Infinite in chronological order. The spin-off games (Reach, ODST, the Wars games and the Spartan games) are all completely optional, but they are there for people who want play other games that aren't centered around the Master Chief. I recommend just watching all of the cutscenes of Halo 5: Guardians in some supercut "movie" Youtube video, since the 5th game is... bad and, story wise, you're not missing much.

So in this order WITHOUT the spin-offs:

Halo: Combat Evolved

Halo 2

Halo 3

Halo 4

Halo Infinite

If you want to play the games WITH the spin-offs included, then in this order:

Halo Wars

Halo Reach

Halo: Combat Evolved

Halo 2

Halo 3: ODST

Halo 3

Halo: Spartan Assault

Halo: Spartan Strike (Note: This game takes place in two different time-periods, so just play this after Spartan Assault for convenience sake)

Halo 4

Halo Wars 2

Halo Infinite

My advice: Play the main four (+ Infinite) FIRST, then replay the main-games WITH the spin-offs in chronological-order.

Books & Comics

Here comes my favorite part!

Books

Halo: The Fall Of Reach, Halo: First Strike & Halo: Contact Harvest - The FIRST books in the entire franchise, these books set the stage for the entire setting of the Halo world. The first half of The Fall Of Reach is Master Chief's origin story, while the second half is about, well, "the fall of Reach." First Strike is a book that takes place in-between the first and second game AND, for a high-octane action-book, has a shocking amount of shipping material. And finally, Contact Harvest details the early years of the Human-Covenant War AND further fleshes out the Covenant as an antagonistic force by showing their side of things.

Halo: Silent Storm & Halo: Oblivion - For those who want MOAR Master Chief, these two books focus on a younger Chief fighting the Covenant in the earlier uears of the war. These two are probably my favorite Halo books thus far.

Halo: Ghosts Of Onyx & The Kilo-5 Trilogy - It's crucial to read Ghosts Of Onyx first BEFORE delving into Glasslands, the first book in The K5-Trilogy, since Glasslands takes place IMMEDIATELY after Ghosts Of Onyx. Anyways, these stories are for those who are bored of Master Chief and want to read about other, admittedly more fascinating Spartans. Kurt and Naomi are definitely among my favorite Spartans that aren't named "Master Chief," "Blue-Team" and "Silver-Team."

Halo Evolutions - An anthology book with each story taking place in some corner of the Halo universe or another, this is a book I recommend for world-building purposes.

Comics

Halo: The Graphic Novel - Just like Evolutions, Halo: The Graphic Novel is an anthology series thay tells different stories from different corners of the Halo universe for world-building purposes. These stories are all new stories and are NOT comic-adaptations of any of the stories in Evolutions, so don't worry about basically reading the same stories twice; The Graphic Novel has a similar concept, but all of the stories are different.

Halo: Blood Line - Black-Team is the coolest group of Spartans in the entire Spartan-II Program; they're group of misfit loners (who secretly have feelings for each other) who answer ONLY to ONI (the CIA of the Halo universe) and wear black suits of armor with roman-numerals etched onto their visors. They do cool-guy shit together, and this comic follows their story.

Other Material

Audio-Dramas

I Love Bees - Taking place in various different points in time, I Love Bees was an ARG that was turned into an audio-play long after it was deciphered. I won't spoil anything that happens, but I will say this: Shit gets kinda crazy.

Hunt The Truth - Another ARG. This fictional podcast was made to promote Halo 5: Guardians and... it's the best damn part to come out of that stinker of a game; Hunt The Truth's narrative is SO much more interesting than Halo 5's story, it HURTS. Anyways, it's about a reporter uncovering the truth of the Spartan-II Program as ONI starts a smear campaign against the Master Chief to cover their own asses.

Movies & Shows

Halo 4: Forward Unto Dawn - This web-film was promotional material for Halo 4 (as it's title suggests), and it follows a group teenaged military-school students going about their lives as Lasky, a confused cadet who is struggling to find a direction in life and live up to his family's reputation, grapples with the struggles of military-life in his academy.

Halo: The Series - If, by some off-chance, you WEREN'T introduced to Halo via the show, here's the recommendation. Form your own opinion, but here's my advice: Like what you want to like and don't follow the word of mouth.

Halo Legends - An anime anthology that, just like Evolutions and The Graphic Novel, world-builds the mythology of Halo by telling different, disconnected but ultimately in-continuity stories set within the game's universe. Odd One Out, Homecoming and The Package are my favorite shorts in the film.

Machinimas

Red Vs Blue - What else? Seasons 1 - 14 are my recommendations, don't watch anything else beyond that because it SERIOUSLY drops in quality. Just wait for it's final season, Season 20, to come out; you're not missing much with seasons 15 - 19.

The Spartan Legacy - A seriously underrated series. Made by a Youtuber under the name: 'Chronicler177,' The Spartan Legacy takes place in an alternate-continuity where Chief disappears and never comes back after the events of Halo 3. As a result, the Spartan-IVs and Vs (both of which are more interesting than in-canon; and the Spartan-Vs are a new creation within this web-show itself) are created to take his place.

WHEW! That's all, ladies and gents.

@authortobenamedlater, @silverpelt3600, @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @makowrites, @mrtobenamedlater, @biomecharnotaurus, @killer-orca-cosplay, @cheezbot, @caffeineyum, @asimplesimpsimping.

[lgbtpopcult]

What cool WLW projects do we know are coming in 2024?

Drive-Away Dolls

Arguably the most important representation of the year comes from a movie directed by one of the Coen brothers. Ethan Coen directs this wacky comedy that is very much in style for him.

Synopsis:

This comedy caper follows Jamie, an uninhibited free spirit bemoaning yet another breakup with a girlfriend, and her demure friend Marian who desperately needs to loosen up. In search of a fresh start, the two embark on an impromptu road trip to Tallahassee, but things quickly go awry when they cross paths with a group of inept criminals along the way.

Lost Records: Bloom and Rage

A game had to be added to this list and here it is, the best one. From the creators who gave us Life is strange. Lost Records: Bloom and Rage tells the story of four friends who experience a transformative summer in 1995. After 27 years of no contact, Nora, Swann, Autumn, and Kat are reunited by fate and forced to confront the long-buried secret that made them agree to never speak again all those years ago. From the teaser alone it is obvious at least two of them dated.

Pluto

A Thai gl from GMMTV, known for its successful Thai dramas. The story is the telenovela cliche we've always wanted. Two girls in love. One gets in an accident and her twin takes her place to find out who was behind her accident, the other girl is blind. The twin has to fake being the real one so has to be in a relationship with the blind girl and of course falls in love with her. Match made in fanfic heaven.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

It was announced so long ago people are getting frustrated. However, with both a writer and a director now attached to the project, and the strikes over, we have every reason to believe we will finally get to see the hit novel, that centers the love story between two closeted Hollywood actresses, come to life. Whether you loved the novel or were indifferent and didn't see what the fuss was about, it is a very successful wlw romance and we want to see it on screen!

The Paying Guests

The director that brought us Carol adapting a book by the author of Fingersmith? Yes please!

Speaking to Indiewire, Haynes revealed he’s developing an adaptation of Sarah Waters’ 2014 novel The Paying Guests. “It’s a three-part limited series that would need to be a British production, but it’s a really great novel.” Set in post-WWI London, the drama is part lesbian love story and part murder mystery following a down-and-out widow and her daughter, the latter taking up a relationship with one of their lodgers. Waters also wrote Fingersmith, which was adapted into The Handmaiden by Park Chan-wook.

NCIS Hawaii season 3

One of our favorite pairings of last year, Kate and Lucy are the main couple of their show and they carry it well. They look good together, have progress and evolution in their relationship and have fun working together.

The Secret of Us

Thai channel CH3 is expected to hit us strong with this Thai gl. CH3 is big in Thailand so this one is a big deal. The story is the typical exes meet again trope and it's magnificent. It centers Doctor Fahlada, nicknamed Doctor Angel. She is trying to hide the pain after being abandoned by the woman she loved. But then...by chance that woman comes back into her life.

Whisper Me a Love Song

Our resident anime entry has to be Whisper me a love song. Based on a manga it is the story of Himari Kino. On the first day of entering high school, Himari Kino "falls" for her senior, Yori Asanagi, whom she watched singing with a band at the welcome party for new students. When Himari confesses her admiration to Yori, Yori misinterprets Himari's feelings as romantic love. However, before Yori realizes, she comes to fall for Himari anyway, and promises to win her affections for real.

Bad Sisters season 2

Bad Sisters is one of the best reviewed and hilarious shows on this list. Coming back for a season 2 was inevitable. Bibi, the lesbian sister, will keep entertaining us in 2024.

Station 19 season 7

One of the most enduring shows and wlw couples on TV are coming back for a season 7! That is a lot of seasons but Maya and Carina do still have that spark.

About Galaxy The Series

Part of the gl renaissance that is expected to go full force next year, this series is already hugely popular among Asian romance fans.

Synopsis:

‘About Galaxy’ is based on author Zezeho’s yuri of the same name, with a Thai title of “มูลค่าดาวล้านดวง”. The story revolves around Hong Yok, a designer who has a big scar on her face which led her to hide away from the public due to her inferiority complex. But something changed in her life when she met Note, a woman she was measuring clothes, and realized she is the same person who gave her that huge scar! However, despite the incident, she doesn’t outright despise her, and instead… feels safe. What will happen to the two women?

My Ex-Friend's Wedding

Kay Cannon ("Blockers") will direct from a script co-written by Taylor Jenkins Reid? Staring a group of friends trying to stop their friend from getting married? And one of them is queer? We're all in!

Arcane (Season 2)

It seems like forever since we first watched Arcane but we're definitely looking forward to season 2. Needs no introduction.

Dream the Series

We already have enough Asian dramas in this list but we couldn't leave out one of the most anticipated gl, Dream. The story is that of a woman that sees a girl in her dreams every night only to meet her in real life. While in real life they are friends in her dreams they do much more. She thinks her friend doesn't know about that what she doesn't know is that she also remembers everything they do in their dreams.

Harley Quinn the Animated Series season 5

Another season of our favorite criminal duo Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy? Yes please and thank you. These two, and this particular iteration of them, might be the best representation American television has ever given us.

Chaser Game W

Chaser Game W is the first gl produced by TV Tokyo so it has a historic significance for the advancement of representation for queer women in Japan. First episode airs January 8. Based on manga series "Chaser Game" written by Hiroshi Matsuyama & illustrated by Yukitaro Matsuyama

The story:

synopsis: Itsuki has been working in the "Dynamic Dream" game company for five years and is now appointed as the lead for a big Japanese-Chinese collaboration project, which she is fully motivated to work on. However, it turns out the Chinese company team is led by her ex, Fuyu, whom she one-sidedly broke up with back in university! After breaking up with Fuyu, Itsuki never dated anyone else and chose to focus on her work, all while not coming out to her family and coworkers... But when her ex-girlfriend suddenly appeared in front of her, her feelings immediately started to sway. Meanwhile, Fuyu always resented Itsuki for breaking up with her without saying why. She takes charge of the project and pushes impossible tasks onto Itsuki. While Fuyu plots her revenge, Itsuki is rekindling her unrequited love. What will the outcome be for these two opposites?

Vigil season 2

The first couple of episodes of Vigil season 2 will technically be shown in December 2023 (in the UK only) but we'll basically be able to watch it beginning 2024 and we're looking forward to it!

Several upcoming TV shows and movies have cast actors that make it obvious they'll have lesbian and bi characters but until we know whether the representation will be enough to be worth watching we're holding off on making that other, more elaborate, list.

[uraverageemodrainergamerbf]

I heard so many people say bad things abt encanto and now that I actually watched it, they were all wrong ?? No the protagonist isn't insufferable, she's amazing and kind and more self aware than most disney protagonists. No there's no "too many songs" this is a musical it's supposed to have that many songs if you don't like music go somewhere else.

It's not the downfall of disney movies, it truly is something different and a very smart and soft way of speaking about generational trauma. And the simple fact that this movie has no "journey" (it mostly stays in one place) is so daring imo bc the pace still feels incredible.

It goes up with red alert as one of the best Disney I ever saw, and what feels like very cool evolution of storytelling in animated movies

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Can you create an AU story of Platonic Yandere X Men Various x Wovlerwine (Logan), Specifically, set in X Men Evolution?

Let's see what magic I can do today for this au~!

• Reader had survived, just barely, what seemed like the end of the world. They weren't sure what had happened, exactly, besides most people, humans and mutants alike, fell to some... hivemind, they think? Where they went all blank and quiet, where they'd capture their own friends and enemies, then take them and add them to their growing collective...

• Ending up caught wasn't what you had wanted, but you were too tired, too sickly, too stressed, to keep yourself from collapse. Waking up, you were in a padded, soft room. The air smelled sweet, the lights weren't too bright, amd a soft hum was in the air... Yet you still felt fear...

• Something came by, entering the room, and you count help but feel scared, seeing an old mentor and friend dad under the sway of the hive... He doesn't move to hurt you; he leaves food, sitting quietly by the door and watching you, patient... When you make no move to eat, a froen tugs at his lips, and he moves closer, nudging the tray towards you, a soft noise coming from his throat.

• When you still refuse to eat, a sigh escapes him... Then he's moving closer, until he's beside you. You try to move, panic coursing through you- But he wraps you up in a firm hug, shushing you lightly, then traps your legs between his and presses your back to his chest. He lifts up a spoon of the food, lifting it to your lips. When you try to speak- he pushes it in, making sure nothing spills out, then takes it out, getting another spoonful of food... It doesn't matter if you struggle or resist or plead, he tubs your back and hums lightly, pushing another bite nlinto your mouth, making sure you swallow it...

• Trying to sleep on your own doesn't happen. Logan (or whatever he is now) comes back, along with Victor and Scott, who set up a nest of blankets. You try to sleep in the corner, away from everyone... but are tugged into warm arms, then added to the sleepy pile. The warmth feels good on yulour tired muscles and exhausted mind, but you still struggle to trust them, to sleep with them around you. Except your only hugged closer, pulled in tighter, until the heat relaxes you and the soft murmurs and purrs put you at ease, enough to slip quietly into sleep...

• Waking up is slow... You had been so relaxed, so at peace, that you had drooled a little in your sleep. You feel embarrassed, tugging yourself up- until you're pulled into a warm embrace, a happy chuff filling the air as Logan holds you close. You try to speak, wanting to pull yourself away- But you're only held tighter. He runs his fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp and rubbing your back lightly, sending a shiver down your back. When he pulls you up, you hesitate- But are forced to follow him, leaving the room, and going deep into the building that houses him and your friends...

• You end up in a room that smells sweet and clean, like lavender and vanilla... There's a small basin set into the ground, and you're nudged towards it. You don't want to be... bathing... when someone can see you... but you really, really need a bath... With a sigh, you go into the water... then sink until the bubbles cover you. The moment your form is hidden, hands are scooping water over your hair, slowly rinsing out the dirt and grime that's accumulated. You feel a soft hum escape you, and are rewarded with something sweet being scrubbed in your hair, that smells of honey and sugar... The water cools awhile a later, making you shiver... Until a towel is held out, and you're being pulled out of the water, your form being patted dry and your hair being ruffled softly...

• So far, you've been shown nothing but care... It makes you think maybe your friends are still in there, that they're not completely gone... But when you're brought somewhere else, a room with a reclined chair and straps, you feel fear shoot down your spine. When you try to go back, gentle hands push you back, more soft noises and gentle words coming from someone you uses to trust... Tears well up in your eyes, only to be wiped away, and a kiss presses to your forehead.

• Then something sharp stings your shoulder, and the world starts to fuzz at the edges...

• You feel yourself gently moved, arms wrapping around you and carrying you, placing you foen gently... Then soft bands are wrapped around your limbs, keeping you strapped down... A whine builds in your throat... but you're only shushed, warm hands patting your head... And then something sharp slips into your back-

• And something is on your head....

• And then it's only darkness...

[bovineblogger]

I grant you a Digimon partner and evolution line. If you don't know, Digimon evolve through several levels that are different species and evolution isn't always permanent. Evolution lines are also very open and pretty much anything can evolve to anything else.

For the Rookie/Child level I give you Pillomon. It's not a cow (there aren't any at this level), but sheep are still family Bovidae so I think it works. It's also based on counting sheep to go to sleep and it gives people pleasant dreams while they sleep.

Pillomon will evolve to Bullmon. It's a bull powered by hope that has a temper and gets mad when it sees red. It charges full speed at whatever angers it and needs to come to a stop before it can turn or go backwards.

Bullmon will evolve to Vajramon. This mino-centaur is an honorable and noble warrior who disdains the cowardly and seeks to detatch itself from material concerns. Vajramon is the most physically powerful members of a group of Digimon called the Deva who help guard the world and are based on Buddhist legend and the Chinese zodiac.

At the final level of Mega/Ultimate, there is once again no cow, so I'm going with AncientMegatheriumon. It's a horned ungulate so I'm going with it. AncientMegatheriumon lives in the frigid polar regions and is powerful enough to destroy icebergs with a charge. It is one of a group of super ancient Digimon that are the progenitors of modern Digimon. AncientMegatheriumon is the progenitor of mammalian and ice Digimon.

omg???? thank you???????? this is so cool????????!! im absolutely going to watch digimon again this is the coolest thing ever my heart is going like 20000000000000 mph

[maverick-werewolf]

Daily Werewolf Thoughts - Days 10-16

More not super prettily formatting werewolf thought posts that I've been doing daily!

Day 10- You don't really love werewolves if you don't enjoy terrible werewolf movies. Which the vast and overwhelming majority of them are terrible, at least if you ask me. But I just love werewolves so much I am driven to watch them (I also love movies with all my heart and soul), and even if the film is beyond terrible - again, as most of them are, even the ones people say are good - there's going to be a few moments that make it worth it, because werewolves are so badass, and I absolutely love studying how they created the werewolf for any film. Here's a bit of a rant for today...

One such film and series is Underworld. I hate the Underworld movies. Yes, stone me. They're terrible. The only one I enjoyed in its own right at all was Rise of the Lycans, since it had a far more compelling story than Selene's tight black leather (I understand why men enjoy this, in their defense) and absurd motivations that only extend as far as what the director wants for the next action sequence - and it was set in the Middle Ages, which is way better as a werewolf story, imo. Anyway, regardless of how I feel about the movies, I LOVE how they handled the practical effects on the werewolves.

The Underworld werewolves are unmatched. I'm not crazy about the design of the main "lie-kans" - I will never forgive the movie for the "lycans" thing btw - because they were specifically designed to be more "cat-like" or even more like a pitbull. For some reason people like to use things like cats, bears, etc to design something called a "werewolf." So I think those initial ones, like in the first film, frankly look pretty stupid. But the "feral" lycan "breed" or whatever they're called that have the more wolfish heads are a very cool design, and ultimately what I'm talking about here is how they were created and put to film. Sidebar: I'm not one of those people who thinks that the instant a movie uses any CGI, it should be condemned; CGI is a tool like any other filmmaking tool, and it can be used to achieve things we otherwise could never film and that are artistically beautiful and creative; but yes, I do prefer practical effects where they can be used.

The werewolves in Underworld were created using bodysuits, animatronics, and creature actors. They wore leg extensions, got big guys in the first place, and had extensive work for muscle, hair, and especially the faces and facial animations. The entire face is created using servos that respond to controllers held by workers off-camera to animate the werewolf costume in real time, while it's being worn by a person. The entire face, eyes, mouth, lips, etc were fully animated using a complex system of animatronics, and a comm system so the actor can be given instructions from the lead puppeteer so everyone can properly sync their work - and the final effect is such a step beyond anything we've seen from werewolf designs of this size in film before - or since.

There are better videos of the later films that had more advanced technology, like Underworld: Evolution (terrible movie but great werewolf effects), but here's one on youtube that has a lot of what was involved: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jWIF8lSlxg&ab_channel=IsaacKoo

*: "feral" by definition most often specifically refers to domesticated animals that have gone wild again and sounds very odd when used to refer to something like a wolf (but it always happens anyway because people don't care about the English language; ask any video game about their "feral wolves")

**: "breed" specifically refers to controlling the birthing of animals to produce a desired outcome, as in domesticated animals, such as dogs, cats, sheep, etc., and it makes me want to become a hermit living alone atop the Himalayas when I see people use it for werewolves

Day 11- I've often wondered what exactly set me down this path of being completely and hopelessly obsessed with werewolves. I've never really had an answer. I've speculated it was just Halloween itself, seeing the very rare and occasional werewolf around, since that's always been my favorite "kind" of werewolf. I have distinct memories of a little werewolf statue in a Hallmark; I really loved looking at that thing (never got it, though, sadly). I've occasionally wondered if it was watching Scooby Doo at my grandma's house - but in retrospect, the werewolves in Scooby Doo of that era weren't much to write home about, so that probably wasn't it. I do know for a fact I've been obsessed with them for as long as I can remember, certainly by age 6, so whatever it was, it started early. I was reading Sabine Baring-Gould's The Book of Werewolves when I was 8, searching for werewolves in video games forever, and I'll never forget the first werewolf figure I got to decorate my desk.

If you ask one of my favorite professors, who sat on the committee that passed ultimate judgment upon what became my book The Werewolf: Past and Future, she would tell you I was led to love werewolves because of "dream visions" (she is a professor and lifelong student of Old Norse, Old English, and the cultures, many sagas, and histories thereof). I told her about how my earliest memories of werewolves and the start of my obsession with them were actually long series of dreams and nightmares I had - a white werewolf would always crop up in them, sooner or later. Sometimes he was on my side, sometimes not. My dreams and nightmares are... very detached from reality in the first place, but the white werewolf became consistent for a long time. What put the idea of a werewolf into my head in the first place? I'm really not sure.

Some of my favorite experiences with werewolves come from playing as them in classic RPGs, including ones where you aren't technically supposed to be one. I loved playing a werewolf in Neverwinter Nights using character editors, cheat codes, and scripts on the big roleplaying server I played on. Now THAT was fun, but that's a whole separate story.

Anyway, I really don't even know. All I know is, I've loved werewolves for as long as I can remember, and I always will, no matter how silly that might seem.

Day 12- Remember when video games called RPGs had actual roleplaying elements in them? Some of the only games that have ever let you play as a proper werewolf are the Elder Scrolls series, specifically Daggerfall and Morrowind: Bloodmoon, the latter being my absolute favorite werewolf game ever. Why? Because you actually played as a werewolf - and all that came with it - instead of lycanthropy being a cool thing and/or awesome button.

In Bloodmoon, if you are a werewolf (having either become one from surviving a werewolf attack - werewolves spawn with INSANE rarity, trust me I found one naturally and it took me weeks, in the wild of Solstheim or you can become one through the main Bloodmoon questline), you will transform each night. You must devour 1 humanoid (playable race) NPC or suffer from hunger and exhaustion the following day, lowering your stats. The transformation will break any armor you have equipped. If someone witnesses the transformation, word of your true nature will spread, and you will be hunted. You are also attacked on sight - but NPCs will often run away rather than dare attack you. Your stats are insanely boosted, you run like the wind and leap to the point of almost flying, and you can destroy nearly anything in your path. It is one of the single coolest things in all of gaming and nothing like it has ever been recreated (I have biases).

Being a werewolf became part of your character and changed your entire gameplay experience rather than just being an "ability" or "race."

Many of these systems were also in place in Daggerfall, Morrowind's predecessor. But Morrowind was the last game of the ES series to incorporate proper werewolf mechanics. In Oblivion, we got exactly nothing, which left me crushingly disappointed as a child. In Skyrim, you have an awesome button werewolf mode wherein you must continually devour enemies in order to maintain the werewolf form. It's cool and it's fun, and I'm very glad Skyrim had werewolves playable at launch, but it doesn't have anything approaching the same feel as "being" a werewolf in Bloodmoon, where it is a curse. It can be an inconvenience, it can be an advantage, and it's something you have to plan your gameplay around - and something you must hide from everyone around you. That is what playing as a werewolf should be. I'm likely to make another post soon talking about that some more, because it's a favorite subject.

Anyway, therefore, Morrowind's expansion pack Bloodmoon is easily one of my favorite games ever made. It is really the only game where you can really play as a werewolf instead of a reasonably cool and fun but ultimately far less interesting alternative.

I also recently wrote a big ol' article about the best video games that let you play as a werewolf: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/werewolf-articles/werewolf-article-play-as-a-werewolf-video-games/

Day 13- A werewolf's transformation sequence is one of the single most important things in any werewolf story. It might even be -the- most important. After all, the crux of werewolves is that even a man who is pure at heart (etc) can become a monster - and back again - and the sequence undergoing such a traumatic change is quite a thing to tackle.

I've seen it approached many ways. Painfully (obviously), painlessly, slow, fast, as something undesirable and as something desirable, as something controllable and uncontrollable - I swear this isn't innuendo. Anyway, personally, my favorite will always very easily be the most classic concept of the werewolf transformation: painful, traumatic, and very, very bad. I am not here for cuddly or happy werewolves. I'm also a fan of the werewolf not remembering what happened, but I'll ramble about that one later.

This also actually has basis in legend, as well. Even in antiquity, witnessing a werewolf transformation would potentially bring one to madness. This is mentioned in several stories, including but not necessarily limited to Niceros's story, in which witnessing the werewolf transformation freaks him out beyond reason. When he realizes the soldier he'd traveled with was a werewolf, he swears never to go near him again: "I couldn’t have eaten a crumb of bread with him, no, not if you had killed me!"

In Ovid's Metamorphoses, oft hailed as one of the "first werewolf legends" (that we have recorded, anyway), we also get our first proper werewolf transformation ever in the form of the legend of Lycaon...

"[Lycaon] howled his heart out, trying in vain to speak.

With rabid mouth he turned his lust for slaughter

Against the flocks, delighting still in blood.

His clothes changed to coarse hair, his arms to legs—

He was a wolf, yet kept some human trace,

the same grey hair, the same fierce face, the same

Wild eyes, the same image of savagery."

I've always found it interesting to note that his clothes became coarse hair, rather than him tearing his clothes off. Just a little difference there between this and many other legends.

Lots more on the ancient Greek tale of King Lycaon here: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-fact-66-the-legend-of-king-lycaon-of-arcadia/

There are a few legends, of course, that don't make it quite this dramatic. But popular culture carried over the painful transformation sequence for those with the werewolf curse, by and large, and it's incredibly effective. Everyone remembers seeing the first transformation in An American Werewolf in London (as much as I think the movie itself frankly just sucks), and likewise no one was exactly taken by a guy jumping really high and painlessly CGI'ing into a wolf in like .3 seconds.

I obviously have a lot of opinions on werewolf transformations, just like every other werewolf thing. The best and most memorable werewolf transformations are painful, dramatic, and traumatizing - because, after all, being a werewolf is neither a fun thing nor a good time... not for anyone involved.

Day 14- There's something I deeply hate in media, and it's when someone says "a werewolf scratch can turn you!" What on earth?

I have a lot of thoughts about all of this, obviously, and I'll get more into the whole werewolf bite thing later, but let's entertain if you will this notion that becoming a werewolf is like rabies. This is an extremely Early Modern concept, following the rise of scientific thought and the dismissal of all things mystical, religious, magical, mysterious, and allegorical, but even then, a werewolf spreading lycanthropy (in itself an Early Modern concept, as it was viewed as a disease, not a curse) via bite has no basis in folklore already. Does that make it bad? Nonsense, a werewolf bite is a classic storytelling element - that, once again, almost certainly comes from The Wolf Man (1941). It's so classic that for some reason zombies later completely lifted it and now everyone acts like it's a zombie thing, which is completely unfair.

But a werewolf scratch? Really? Even if we're equating it with rabies, that still doesn't work. And how stupid is it for someone to be like "oh no! the werewolf SCRATCHED you!" When I hear "scratch," I think "my cat got a little too excited about the tummy button," not "I've been mauled by a giant twisted man-beast and now I will inherit its curse." How does a werewolf even "scratch" someone without taking an entire limb off or raking red rivers through your torso? Are we sure it was a werewolf, or is it a chihuahua*?

I really wish this "werewolf scratch" thing would stop. It's just bad all over. Bring back werewolf bites exclusively.

*: what pains me is that some people would find this hilarious and make this their exclusive takeaway, because werewolves have just become jokes

Day 15- I love a wide variety of werewolf designs. If the werewolf is presented well, the design doesn't always matter that massively, as long as it doesn't look incredibly dumb and/or doesn't even resemble a man or a wolf. Unfortunately, it's amazing how often this happens.

Many monster design classes do actually say, when designing a werewolf, absolutely don't use a wolf as a reference. Artists are told by everyone under the sun, including filmmakers: use dogs, cats, bears, mandrills, hyenas - I've even seen mules, foxes, bats, badgers... and above all, they are told explicitly: whatever you do, don't use a wolf as inspiration. That'd be like, expected or cliche or bad or corny or something, because it's a WOLF monster. And we can't do anything "expected."

Werewolves are two things: human and wolf. If you're drawing the majority of your inspiration from a bear or a cat or a fox or hyena or whatever else, why even call it a werewolf? Why not make a different creature entirely, like the Beast of Gevaudan?

(more on that remark here: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/the-beast-of-gevaudan/ )

I can understand the desire of some to have some particularly "memorable" or "unique" design (although I have never been taken by any of these attempts, nor do I remember them fondly), but ultimately, it baffles me that someone would choose to draw more directly from animals that aren't wolves for a werewolf design. Then again, you can also go too far in the opposite direction and just end up with fluffy wolf-people, and those can look far too cuddly (at least to... modern audiences; no one thought the werewolves in Dog Soldiers were cute even just a few years ago).

It's a careful balance to walk. When I was very young and innocent, I hated that many designs removed the tail from a werewolf (which they have in legend and I think it looks cooler), but I completely understand now. I also understand wanting to change the head shape, ear shape, etc, but all of this can be achieved without making the werewolf look like some other animal or like nothing in particular. There's a reason the Underworld werewolf design that became ubiquitous for so many werewolves afterward - Skyrim, for example, and World of Warcraft: Cataclysm, just to name two - was the one with the wolfish muzzle and head shape, not the "cat pitbull" design from the first film.

Call me old-fashioned (I am), but I want a werewolf to look like what it's called. Note: I'm also not knocking the quadrupedal but still part-man looking designs, although those are far from my favorite, but it should still have wolf features. At least a few.

Day 16- Another werewolf folklore lesson! How about "curing" lycanthropy? What was that like in folklore - lifting the werewolf curse?

As per usual for my discussions, I have to mention that being a werewolf was not considered a "disease" until relatively recently; it was a magical curse, not an illness that could be "contracted" or "cured," and individuals were not "infected." Likewise, there weren't exactly a lot of examples of a werewolf curse - as per traditional "transforming between man and beast on a regular basis" definition of "werewolf" - being lifted in folklore.

There are some examples of more unusual variations of the curse being lifted, however, namely with those who end up stuck in a more seemingly permanent wolf form. Removing a magic item that cursed you to become a werewolf is fairly common, such as the magic skins donned by Sigmund and Sinfjotli in the Volsunga Saga; when they wore them, they were wolves, and only returned to human form when they managed to get the skins back off again. Another example is Melion (titular character of a British lai), who was trapped in the form of a wolf when he put on a cursed ring.

And in at least one story, that of Guillame de Palerne, the werewolf returns to his human shape when the one who cursed him is killed. This is a special case in that the werewolf never actually returned to a human form and was in fact stuck as a wolf, so it's not quite your typical werewolf example, but it is still from a French story whose title was translated as William and the Werewolf - and it's a good story.

However, in the vast majority of cases, especially with the werewolves that are more in line with what we think of as proper werewolves (transforming back and forth, instead of stuck in a wolf form), either the werewolf stayed a werewolf and it wasn't really that big of a deal (such as in several ancient Greek tales and some medieval tales, for example)...

Or else the werewolf was killed. Popular culture sometimes insists the only cure for lycanthropy is death, and that also often held true in many legends. It's also quite fun and dramatic, of course, although I do get tired of the werewolf predictably getting wasted.

There is, of course, a Werewolf Fact for this: https://maverickwerewolf.com/werewolf-facts/how-to-cure-lycanthropy/

[digi-lov]

Digimon Liberator Novel

[read on the official website] DEBUG.1-1 [Yuuki] - DEBUG.1-2 [HEAVY METAL PLAY] - DEBUG.2-1 [Winr] - DEBUG.2-2 [GOOD GAME]

First spoiler free, then more detailed including spoilers under cut

So the first 2 chapters of the Digimon liberator novel dropped last week! We don't exactly know how frequent it'll update, but most likely not as regular as the comic. First impressions on the main characters, I really like them. I think they are fun and interesting enough to drive the story. They don't feel like exact copies of previous characters, and make me exited for a fresh adventure!

As far as I could tell, the translation seems fairly good, but there was a mistranslation of a card effect. However the translation of TCG card effects can be a bit tricky, and the translators might not have known the official english wording. They also show the respective card right there, so it's easy to see what the effect should be, but it might be confusing to people who weren't already familiar with the cards.

Nevertheless I'm optimistic and looking forward to read more!

So now for a bit more detail

First off, I think they way they incorporate the player's tamer cards is really smart. A player get's their own blank tamer card, and can obtain various effects to add to it within the game, to customize their own tamer card to their play style. Nice! This way it doesn't feel like a weird 4th wall break for Yuuki to have a Yuuki Tamer card for example.

I really like Yuuki , immediately! She's fun, and she definitely has flaws and quirks to work on that'll make her interesting to watch grow. Her relationship with Impmon is nice too. Impmon is not exactly a serious character, but does want Yuuki to be a bit more serious, and recognize the weight of the situation. To an extend, Impmon wants Yuuki to take their partnership more serious in turn, I'd say. The way they talk to each other feels very familiar. You can tell they're close, not holding back complaining about the other. They bicker, but they also quickly drop the fight when needing to figure something out together.

Yuuki's Impmon, as most already know, get's a new evolution line: Punkmon, Loudmon, and HeavyMetaldramon. I love them! I like how it gives Yuuki and her Impmon more of an individual identity, than if they used a previously common Impmon line. The detail about Yuuki being a dancer, and vibing with the cool metal dragon is sweet too!

Also, I wonder if that Altea character is this girl from the poster? It's interesting that Impmon is not a fan of her...

Winr and FunBeemon's introduction was great too. Winr seems like a proud kid, without being feeling too stuck up. The story taking place after he's already known Yuuki for a year, really helps with his walls having started to come down already. I'm curious if his parents will be related to the in universe Digimon Franchise or Game Company in a way, or it they're just generic absent rich parents. Which, I don't think would take away from Winr's character if they are. I feel for him to want to escape from his home life into a virtual world. I love his relationship with FunBeemon. FunBeemon is very attentive to Winr's feelings, and cares a lot about him. And Winr doesn't get annoyed by it, but appreciates it, even though he doesn't quite know how to express it. The new evolutions for FunBeemon are also cool! I've like FunBeemon for a partner Digimon for a while, and I'm excited to see it finally happen!

I'm curious about Winr's real name too, assuming Winr is his username. Winr is a play on "winner", with his Japanese name サイキヨ Saikiyo being a play on 最強 (さいきょう) saikyou meaning "the best" or "the strongest". FunBeemon's nickname "Winnie" is キヨちゃん kiyo-chan in Japanese.

For anyone who's interested: Japanese first person pronouns

Yuuki uses the japanese first person pronoun あたし atashi, which is quite feminine, but as being too over the top girly is sometimes seen as disruptive, atashi also has a do-as-I-please kinda vibe sometimes. For example, it's used by Yuffie from FFVII. The even more cute-girly atai in turn is often used in media by very strong-willed, rough women, such as Plumeria fom Pokémon Sun&Moon, or the Gerudo women from the Legend of Zelda games. It can also be played straight as super cute too thoug, like with Vivian from Paper Mario TTYD.

Impmon uses オレ ore, which is a strong, proud, often masculine pronoun. In formal situations it would be considered rude, but it's normal for guys to use in a casual setting. Very rarely it is also used by super tough women in media, such as Kumatora from Mother 3, or Big Mom from One Piece. Eiichiro Oda mentioned himself knowing women who use ore, but this is quite uncommon and likely a modern developement. You go girls! Impmon also uses it in katakana, which gives it a bit more emphasis.

Winr uses 僕 boku, which is quite common for young boys, or more soft spoken men in casual settings. In media it is also occasionally used by girl characters that have a "tomboy" vibe, but also sometimes by female singers in their songs.

FunBeemon uses 私 watashi, which is technically a polite neutral pronoun, but using it in a casual setting has a feminine connotation.

PS: Sorry this took so long, I'm still very sick, and writing coherent sentences with okay spelling is diffcult.

[theprismyyy]

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

Tw: Nothing just teenagers being silly...and maybe a little nudity, but just a little☝️Also this hasn't been reviewed and probably won't be.

(English is not my first language)

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ This girl is definitely your number one fan, no matter what your art style or if you think a certain project of yours isn't very good, she will always think it's amazing and shower you with compliments because it's you and she loves you so much, and loves all your art <3 you could literally just draw some stick figures out of sheer boredom and she would treat it like it was the greatest work of art of the century.

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She loves just sitting next to you while you draw, because she loves the artistic process, especially when the sketch starts with something "ugly and meaningless" and ends up being something incredible, you can see the shocked expression and the stars in her eyes as you watch the end result and she's all, "How did you do that?😲"

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would love to have little art dates, even if that's your thing and not hers, this girl just likes spending time with you <3 She would also try so hard to do something cool and impress you, but I really think she would have the artistic gifts of a two-week-old baby and she would be all "☹️" because you think her drawing is horrible and that you wouldn't like it, but when you see that she tried to draw you together in a little house, just like those children's drawings, you would be falling in love with her and showering this girl with kisses and affection, and she would be so embarrassed (in a good way); the next time she came to your house and saw her drawing on the wall along with her thousands of others, she would feel like melting like butter, if this girl had a tail you could see it wagging like a puppy's.

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would also be very messy during these meetings, always ending up completely dirty, whether from paint or colored markers, or whatever materials you were using; She would be the type who forgets that her hands are dirty and passes them over her face and then her face also becomes dirty, she only realizes it when you warn her between amused laughs.

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ One of her greatest fun is leafing through her sketchbooks, she could literally spend hours just sitting while going through each one of them, always commenting on her favorite drawings from each sketchbook and also about her evolution in art, in a Modern!au she there would probably be a million photos of your drawings on her phone

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would love to receive gifts made by you, drawings, collages, paintings, origami; It doesn't matter, she would keep them all in a hidden box under her bed just to make sure her father wouldn't find them and ruin them, but I think she would at least have one drawing stuck on her bedroom wall so she could look at it while she thinks. in you♡

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ If you needed a live model for a project she would 100% step up to that role, even though I think she would never be able to stand still long enough for that, but it's the intention that counts

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ It is common knowledge that her life in general is very troubled, so I feel that throughout her life this girl has always needed to be very cautious about everything, closing herself off from people as a way of protecting herself because everyone she has ever liked they left or hurt her in some way and there are still her shitty parents, you are the first constant in this poor baby's life, the first person she has really opened up to, and it shows in the little things, the little details about you that are there for her even when you're physically not there, that makes her feel loved, that reminds her that now she finally has someone; These little things are your drawings, your art, like all the gifts carefully stored in the box under her pants, or the little patterns of colorful flowers in acrylic paint on the headboard of her bed, or the marker doodles you helped her with. to do on the old all stars, the little discreet drawings scribbled on the theoretically imperceptible corners of her walls, all the silly and fun sketches you made in her notebooks and she loves <3333 it's the little things that make her melt and realize how much she loves you

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend------ She would also be your greatest muse, as if you had a special Sketchbook unique and exclusively dedicated to her, just with drawings of her, it's all about her ♡♡♡ sketches with little notes about how much you love her and how beautiful she is, or drawings of her features that you like, like a drawing of her nose with a note about how you like the little slope of it, or drawings of her eyes saying how pretty they are, etc, etc <3 She would 100% know about him because you never really hid it and she would probably get all emotional about it because no one has ever treated her with so much love or noticed the little things about her

Natalie with an artistic girlfriend ------ Thinking about a Modern!au where you beg her to let you do that tik tok trend with her where you paint a canvas on your boyfriend/girlfriend's back, and you don't even have to beg a lot because she agrees immediately. So imagine being in your bed with Natalie lying on her stomach, without a shirt or bra on and you have an amazing view of the pale skin of her back and the cute freckles there :(( she is so beautiful and sensitive and would get goosebumps at the slightest touch of the brush on your back, like she gets goosebumps all over because the paint feels so cold and she does her best to stay still and not disturb you, but she can't help but laugh every few seconds

© 2024 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my work without my permission.

[myobsessionsspace]

HE SAID WHAT HE SAID!

“[…]We’re telling that Buck has always been a bisexual man[…]”

OS: I want people who are part of that [LGBTQ] community to know that I am so proud to be representing this story and that there is no part of me that has any shame or concerns about telling this story. I think it’s a wonderful, human story to be able to to tell and I honestly do not care if anybody thinks differently to me in that - then go watch something else.

OS: Officially, it’s a newer creation but I think what has been really fun is myself and Tim Minear, who writes the show, to kind of look back across the seasons and go No, there have been breadcrumbs to this for a long time and whether those have been intentional or not, I don’t think even really matters too much in the moment. The story has been telling itself and even on a subconscious level, it has been leading here, so it’s something that officially only came around this season, but I think what’s lovely about the DNA of this show is that if you do look back, Buck is somebody who has been looking for his identity. He has had a “womanizing” past and he has just been trying to find himself in all these different avenues, I think probably unsure of what was missing until it - I was going to say hit him in the face, but more to the point, kissed him in the face, and kind of opened up his world. He had this moment of Oh, that’s the thing that I’ve been looking for.

OS: Yeah, it’s striking that balance, where we want to tell this queer love story, and that’s a huge element of it, but we want to tell it just as human beings and not focus too much on that aspect. So, it’s finding a balance between giving it its importance, but also saying that this is no different.

OS: It’s just showing that there has always been this thread. Buck is here now as a bisexual man. The story is not the - and this is the thing that has been leveled at me on social media a little bit over the past couple of weeks of You’ve changed this character from being straight to gay and that’s not the story we’re telling here. We’re telling that Buck has always been a bisexual man, he has just not had the capacity to maybe process those feelings or understand those feelings for various different reasons that we could go into. It’s not a change - he wasn’t straight and now he’s bi - he is just uncovering more about himself and the fact that he’s doing that now in his thirties, I think, is a really cool story to show that you can discover these things later in life.

🏳️‍🌈

This man needs no help! He’s standing on biness and we stan!!