#and they're so grainy and far away

[flowersandspacestuff]

Yahoo locked me out of my account bc I can't prove I'm not a robot 😑

[ddejavvu]

just read the fancam fic and it was so good!!! now i’m just imagining tyler finding a fancam someone made of the reader using the like three grainy clips of her that are available,,, like just how flustered she’d be

part one / please send me tyler owens requests!

Tyler is typically very considerate about letting you sleep in- just because he was raised to wake with the sun doesn't mean you don't enjoy sleeping until ten. But today you're awoken by a sharp jostling of the bed that makes you reconsider whether your regional natural disaster is tornadoes and not earthquakes.

"Baby! Baby, look at this," Tyler's phone is shoved unceremoniously into your face, music and movement on the screen combining to send your sleep-addled brain into overdrive, "Someone made one of you!"

The song plays through three times before you realize what you're looking at.

They're clips of you, grainy and far away, but it's you set to the tune of a honey-sweet love song that Tyler's definitely serenaded you with before to bring heat to your cheeks. There's clips of Tyler as well, lifting you into his raised truck or pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek while he straps your seatbelt into its buckle.

"What-" You mumble, brows furrowed as you realize that this is posted, publicly, and it's already got a good amount of engagement, "Someone made that?"

"One of my fans. Or- your fans, I think. Caption says you don't get enough love from 'em." Tyler hums, bending down awkwardly and nestling his nose against your sleepy face.

You can't find the words to respond, but perhaps it's not because you're sleepy. You continue to watch the video loop, videos of yourself waving shyly at fans strung together with shots of you ducking behind Tyler interspersed between.

"Some of 'em are us together," Tyler settles in bed beside you, on top of your blankets which means that you're trapped beneath them due to his weight, "But that's just 'cause you're not on camera all that much, so they had to use what they could get. But still, look at that! That's you, darlin'." He croons, kissing at your flaming cheeks while equal parts mortification and delight roil in your belly, "The prettiest girl on the internet."

[cherryyluvs]

꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ I loved the batman reader one your so talented! If you don't mind would you do a joker reader? Like skills like the joker, crazy like the joker maybe this reader has their own version of Harley Quinn but doesn't love them and they get obsessed with mark idk full free to ignore I don't wanna bother 😭🙏🏽 also fun fact joker in one of the animated shows used to wear heels so you do what you want with that info. Can it also be male reader to if you don't do that that's okay but overall I love your work, and drink lots of water 🌊

Thank you so much for the kind words! I’m really glad you liked the Batgirl reader one! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ I love the idea of a Joker-like reader and i made it gender netrual, hope you dont mind!

Cecil had been keeping tabs on the situation for a while now. This new mysterious person, Joker.

Midnight City had seen its fair of madness, but you? Oh you were something different, something even Darkwing was struggling to handle. So much that Cecil had to send Mark in.

“Are you serious? Mark snapped, arms crossed. “You want me to work with him? The guy who got away with murdering people?”

Cecil sighed, rubbing his temples. “This isn’t about your issues with Darkwing, Mark this is about them” He slid a file across the table, a collection of grainy photos showing that wide grin of yours. “They call themselves The Joker – which I may say is stupid name but here we are.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed. The image of you, your manic grin, burning buildings in the background. Sent a shiver up his spine. “They're causing that much of a problem?”

“They are completely unpredictable,” Cecil continued. “Darkwing has been trying to keep them contained, but let's just say.. It's not going so great.”

“So why send me? Mark questioned, suspicion creeping in on him. “You have other people for this. Hell, let Darkwing deal with it.”

“I'm not asking you to like it” Cecil responded, voice firm. “He needs help and you're the best option. It's not just some street level thug we’re dealing with. This person is chaos incarnate”

Mark slammed his hands against the wooden table. “Fine. But I'm not going easy on Darkwing and if he steps out of line. I'm not backing him up.”

When Mark arrived in Midnight City, it felt like he stepped into an entirely different world. The city, always in darkness, seemed heavier tonight. As if the shadows themselves were watching him. He met up with Darkwing on a rooftop, standing across from each other. “You've got some nerve” Mark said, glaring at Darkwing. “Working with you, after all the people you killed?”

Darkwing’s mask hid his expression, his voice cold “I don't have time for your moral lecture right now. We’ve got bigger problems. And if you want to stand on a soapbox while the city burns, be my guest.”

“Let's just finish this mission,” Mark muttered.

⸝⸝

Your obsession didn't start immediately, you've heard of invincible before. You were curious at first. The way he fought, the way he held back even when he had enough power to crush a person's head in his hands.

‘Mark’ was his name, how did you find out? You've been playing cat and mouse with Darkwing for months. The way he moved and worked, you even listened when muttered into his little communicator.

Eavesdropped on his grumpy little conversations with Cecil.

One night, after yet again another failed attempt to capture you. Darkwing slipped up “Mark should have handled this from the start” he grumbled under his breath, thinking you were too far to hear.

Oh-ho-ho~ Who’s this mark? It wasn't hard to put the pieces together.

A little digging here and a little breaking and entering into some GDA files. Man, Cecil really needed to toughen up his security.

And just like that, you had found a name.

Mark Grayson. It rolled off the tongue so nicely, didn't it?

⸝⸝

When you met Mark, you made sure it was grand, a charity gala. Packed with people completely oblivious to what was about to unfold. You crashed the party.

Quire literally.

A well placed explosive gadget sent the chandelier crashing to the floor. Screams erupting as people ran, you walked in through the chaos, humming as flames erupted.

And then? There he was.

Invincible.

“Oh? I just wanted to see the boy wonder myself” you clapped your hands together. “Let’s see if you're good as they say.”

Mark didn't hesitate, flying straight towards you.

But you? You avoided him effortlessly, the click of your heels as you spun away.

Your combat skills are chaotic, blend of acrobatics, agility, and unpredictability. All in high heels too. There wasn't really a technique, just an utter disregard for your own well being.

“Tsk, tsk, so aggressive! Where's the fun in that?” Mark swung again, you ducked giggling as you twirled behind him. “Oh, pretty boy, you're precious.”

“Tell me” tapping his chest with your finger.

“Are you here to stop me? Or are you here because you're curious?”

His jaw clenched. “Shut up”

“Hit a nerve did i?” you grinned, leaning in close. “Tell me Mark.. when you look at me, do you see a problem, to fix? Or do you see something more.. Interesting?”

He then hit you.

And oh darling, that was when you felt it. The raw, barely contained power behind his fist. The heat in his glare. Frustration dripping from his words when told you to stay down.

Oh, sweetheart, how could you not fall in love?

That stupid smile of yours never left your face, Mark hated that look.

It wasn't fear nor anger.

It was delight.

That was dangerous.

As if things were not complicated enough, you had your own little tag along, devoted, lovesick shadow. Who hung off of every word you said, makeup smeared, and their very own existence revolving around you. Except.. Something was off.

When they came to your rescue , cooing your name. You looked downright bored.

They giggled. Pressing close “Oh, Joker, you're so amazing! Tell me what to do next, to make you happy!”

But you? You just signed, pushing them off you with an unimpressed wave. “Ugh, please, spare the dramatics.”

Mark brows furrowed. “You don't even like them do you?”

Your smile widened “Oh i love them! The same with a cat loves playing with its food” You stared at him, voice a whisper. “But you? You're the real fun.”

Mark felt a shiver down his spine.

Cecil was frustrated, Darkwing getting more aggressive. Mark? He was pissed.

“You have to take them seriously Mark” Darkwing warned after another failed attempt to take you down.

Mark ran his hand through his hair. “I am taking them seriously!”

Darkwing shook his head. “Then why haven't you stopped them?”

Mark clenched his fist

Because stopping you meant playing into your game. Because everytime he hit you, you laughed. The more he resisted , the more you wanted.

And maybe.. Just maybe you were starting to get under his skin.

Mark may never fully understand you, you'll always be a challenge, a dangerous puzzle that he can't solve no matter what. The obsession is there and it may never fully go, and though you may be beyond redemption. Mark hopes – just for a second that there's a chance for you to snap out of it.

Cecil was right.

Darkwing had been right.

You weren't just another villain. You weren't just some threat that could be beaten down and forgotten.

You were a problem.

And the worst part?

Mark had a feeling that this was only the beginning.

[allieslittlewritings]

*not my gif <3

Baby Girl

Summary: Spencer getting a baby daughter

Set in: Season 13-14

Warnings: Spoilers for seasons 8-13 of Criminal Minds, vague mention of abortion, bad writing, an oc!mom

Word count: 900-1k

A/n: I've never posted a fic before so if this sucks and nobody sees it I'm sorry <3

★

Spencer always thought in an ideal world, he would have children.

He never bothered to think of how many, knowing that would be more up to his future wife than to him.

He'd always just assumed he'd get married before having children one day.

After everything that had happened to him, Maeve dying, going to prison, the shit Cat had pulled, finding out his mom had Altzheimer's, and everything else that was certainly less than ideal, he'd started to think more and more that he simply wasn't meant to be a dad.

When a girl he'd only gone on a few dates with, months ago, told him she needed to talk to him, he was confused.

Emma was a nice girl, they just didn't fit well together so their relationship didn't last long.

She'd asked him to meet her at a random coffee shop.

He had the idea of her being pregnant for one second before he convinced himself that was ridiculous.

He entered the coffee shop Emma had chosen and went to sit accross from her.

Some boring small talk followed about how their careers and lives were going.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant." Emma finaally blurted out, clearly nervous.

Spencer had heard a lot of radicalizing things in his life.

A lot of unexpected things had happened to him.

In his line of work, a lot of things altered his perspective and way of thinking.

This one was different.

"You're..." He trailed off in shock.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest, I don't want the baby, but I'm too far along now to get an abortion. I'm about to start looking for potential adoptive parents, but I thought maybe you'd want input on who it goes to, too."

As muddled and confused as Spencer's brain felt, he immediately replied, "No. I'll take it. I mean, I'll take care of it. Of the baby."

"Are you sure you want to do that? You've already got a lot on your plate..." She pointed out.

"I'm sure." He said softly, without an ounce of hesitation.

★

Spencer was in an odd haze everytime he remembered he was about to become a parent.

He knew it wouldn't be easy, taking care of a child and having such a demanding job.

But he also knew he could never live with the knowledge that he had a child somewhere and they're not with them.

If they're with him, he can keep them safe.

He could make sure his child didn't grow up alone, like he did.

★

Spencer and his baby's mother sat quietly in a waiting room.

Spencer was attending his first ultrasound.

He sat, in thought.

A nearly empty cup of coffee in his right hand.

His lip was being lightly picked at with his left.

He took one last sip of his coffee and went to throw the now empty cup away.

His sweaty hands were starting to annoy him.

The restless feeling wouldn't go away.

Emma's name was called and the pair went into the ultrasound room.

Spencer picked at his fingers as he watched Emma and the ultrasound tech set everything up.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear any of the little things the women talked about.

Everything in him froze when he heard it.

A heartbeat.

His baby's heartbeat.

"So, would you like to know the baby's gender?" The doctor asked.

The women looked at Spencer, waiting for an answer.

He stood dumbfoundedly, staring at the grainy image of his baby on the moniter.

Their heartbeat still the loudest, best thing he'd ever heard.

"Spencer?" Emma gently nudged him.

Spencer finally snapped out of his haze and quickly wiped away a stray tear rolling down his face.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Would you like to know the sex of the baby?" The doctor asked again.

"Uh, no. No, I want it to be a surprise." His eyes remained on the moniter, he couldn't pull his eyes away from it.

★

Spencer prepared for the day Emma gave birth as best he could.

He was actually grateful for his sabbaticals now, it gave him a lot more prep time.

He read about a hundred books on labor and childbirth.

And give or take twice as many on actual parenting and child care.

He did as much research as humanly possible.

But one thing he'd learned over the years, is no matter how much research you do or how many books you read, the actual topic you're researching and preparing for is never quite the same.

★

His anxiety in the last few weeks before the baby came skyrocketed.

Worry overtook him nearly every minute of the day.

What if he hasn't done enough?

What if there's something important that slipped his mind?

What if he'll actually be a terrible father and he'll mess up the best thing to ever happen to him?

What if he-

"It's a girl!" The doctor announced.

Much like when he heard his daughter's heartbeat for the first time, he froze.

A girl.

He had a daughter.

She was here.

He watched as the doctors and nurses scurried around doing things, to make sure his baby was well and healthy.

His baby.

He had a baby.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Covered in blood and vernix, his daughter.

Her loud, very infant-like cries filled the room.

Not a new sound to the doctors, they continued with their routine work.

It was the most grounded Spencer had felt in months.

She was here.

His baby was here and she needed him almost as much he needed her.

★

Spencer tiredly rubbed his eyes, the wide range of emotions from the day catching up to him.

He walked tiredly to the room where Y/N was, a hint of confusion on his face.

The exhaustion was evident in his posture and his droopy eyes.

But now was not the time to sleep, he was walking to go be with his daughter.

He entered the room she was in and sat down in a chair next to the basin his baby lay in.

"Hi," He whispered to her, gently resting his hand on her tiny stomach.

His baby gurgled and looked up at him with big eyes.

A tired smile graced his face as he gently stroked his daughter's head.

He could stay there forever.

Just him and his daughter.

She was the most the beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" He quietly asked her.

His baby gripped his finger with her hand, continuing to quietly make baby noises.

"Yeah. We're gonna be okay."

fin. ♡

[just-french-me-up]

For Jayce and Viktor prompts, “scrawled on calendars”? Something about them finally looking far enough into the future to get a calendar and then getting comfortable enough to scrawl notes on days far into the distance

OR it shows their past, that they’ve been happy and at peace for long enough to look back on the doodles and notes from the start of their post-canon life?

Honestly I will chew whatever you make, you write the lads so softly it is tooth rotting and it is Good

This tickled my brain deliciously!

Jayvik | 1.1K | Rated G | Domestic fluff, Trans Viktor, Pregnant Trans Viktor, Slice of Life | Cottage by the Stream (they're working on that four kids situation) Viktor stumbles upon Jayce's secret hobby This may qualify as over-indulgent. And tooth-rotting doesn't begin to cover it. Just so you know Read on AO3

Their home was many things. A safe haven. A field of experimentation. A makeshift lab, once all the items that held any sentimental value had been put away to safety. (Viktor did not mean to set the dinner table on fire that one time, but did note pine made for remarkably good kindling.) (Jayce cared little for this finding. He, nevertheless, carved its replacement out of oak.)

What their home wasn't, however, was extendable.

They had made the most of the space available to them over the years. Built nooks for books that never seemed to stop finding their way into their house. Fortified and secured the shed to store various projects and tools. Shared an office, Viktor's neat piles clashing with Jayce's organised chaos in odd harmony.

Jayce had suggested building a whole extension once, collapsing one of the living-room walls to make more space, add a room or two. Viktor hadn't been too keen on the idea. Engineering and masonry were two different beasts, no matter how beautifully Jayce's mind worked.

Besides, the whole thing would take months. More than the five they had left, surely. No child of Viktor's would sleep in a half-built, draughty nursery.

They had taken to emptying the office instead, clearing the space of its usual hodgepodge of books, sketches and notebooks, electing to stack boxes around the house until they figured out a new home for them. Viktor would pretend not to notice Jayce insisted on carrying most of the heavier boxes. His back was killing him anyway. More than usual, that is. He did carry a couple or two to the bedroom, just to prove a point, to Jayce or himself, he didn't know.

Busy with yet another box, Viktor leafed through a handful of notebooks, diaries and planners, sorting them into piles, his and Jayce's. The box was almost full to the brim when he opened another diary, stopping in his tracks, his fingers lingering on the page.

His own eyes stared back, laid on paper, drawn in minute details, unmistakable. The sketch was incredibly indulgent in its depiction of him, yet somehow strikingly lifelike. The Viktor on the page was smiling, something soft yet felt deep, little creases at the corner of his eyes. Right under it, written in Jayce's loopy handwriting, was a simple description :

First sunny afternoon of the season. Viktor lying on the grass.

Viktor stared at it, caught off-guard by the tenderness of it all. Then, carefully, he turned the page. And the next. And the next. They were little vignettes, everyday scenes, mundane at first glance. Their garden in bloom. The snow falling outside the kitchen window. A project they worked on a few years prior. All beautifully rendered on paper, care radiating through the whole collection.

He was, by far, the most recurring subject. There he was, lying on their couch, book in hand, his face focused. New book. House needs more shelving space. Another had him facing away, busying himself in the garden, his cane laid by his side on the quickly drawn grass. First harvest incoming. Viktor tending to the garden. Another only featured his mouth, drawn in a smile, the paper somewhat grainy from erasing and retracing the lines to get it right. Viktor smiled today. First real smile.

"Jayce?" he called absently, mesmerised.

"Yeah?"

There were footsteps, then Jayce's head peeked from behind the door.

"Oh," Viktor heard, tearing him away from the page. Jayce was rubbing his neck, something shy, almost vulnerable in the way he smiled.

"What's this?"

"A hobby, I guess? Something I picked up a while back."

Jayce had always been skilled at schematics. His designs and blueprints were clean and sharp, always with a little flair that made them distinctly his. But this... This was art, nothing less. How had he never noticed?

"When?"

"Says it on the page."

Viktor's eyes darted to the top of the page. His brow creased.

"That was... three years ago."

Not that long after they made the cottage theirs. Flipping the pages to the beginning, memories crawled back to him. The garden, all tall grass, weeds and wildflowers. The nearby village seen from the hill behind their house, covered in snow and shining with distant lights. His own face, a slight yet obvious sadness lodged deep inside his eyes. Viktor's heart panged, and he flipped the page to happier sketches.

"Jayce, it's..."

He didn't know what to say. What would fit. 'Beautiful' felt both too obvious or too understated. This was a whole part of Jayce, a window into his mind right there in his hands, and words didn't feel reverent enough.

"You never mentioned."

Jayce shrugged.

"It's just something I do."

Every day. Something he did every day. As the page followed one another, the seasons changed. The garden grew lush with tomatoes and lettuce. Viktor's guilt and melancholy grew into smiles. The cottage into a home.

When Viktor reached the end, he found himself wanting more. More of this ode to the life they'd built from ashes, to the little things that made it what it was. How beautiful they were, seen from Jayce's eyes.

"Are there more?" he heard himself say, his throat tight.

Jayce blinked at him, struck, before shaking himself into action, kneeling by Viktor's side, rummaging through the box. He took out a mismatched set of diaries.

"This was the second year," he tells Viktor, handing him a red-leather bound one, "This is last year's. And this is this year's."

The last one was thicker, better quality. Bought on purpose. Viktor opened it delicately, his eyes detailing each page with unconcealed eagerness.

"If I'd known you'd like them so much, I would have shown them to you earlier," Jayce chuckled, leaning back on his hands, looking at the sketches over Viktor's shoulder.

"Why didn't you?"

"We weren't talking much at the beginning. I just... kept at it. Didn't think to. Out of habit, I guess."

Viktor looked back, covering one of Jayce's hand with his own.

"I would very much like to see them. Every once in a while. If that's okay."

"It is more than okay."

Jayce rested his head against his shoulder, breathing Viktor in. They stayed like this for a while, with only the sound of turning pages between them, and comfortable silence.

"D'you think I'll get to finish this one, with the dirty diapers and sleepless nights of it all?"

Viktor chuckled softly.

"Get good at drawing dirty diapers, I suppose."

There was a light, playful nudge against his shoulder. Then, Jayce leant a little closer, pressing his lips to Viktor's cheek, before tipping his chin towards the open diary.

"I'll give you fifty more of those, one day. Maybe that'll get you to agree to the house extension. Gotta store them somewhere."

"Oh, so there it is. Your master plan."

"I'm way ahead of you, my love."

Send me a domestic Jayvik prompt? ♥

[purpdrawsthings]

One Mistake, Everything Crumbles Down.

An RTV!GSP self insert fanfic!

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

It was a normal day. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and the sounds of pure chaos coming from within the city were loud as usual.

GSP was taking a break on a small hill, not too far from the city. He had just finished his daily work and decided to go to the spot since it was one of the more peaceful places that wasn't always blowing up.

He scrolled on his phone while watching an SMG4 video. Their videos were always so unique and funny to him. Really helped liven the mood and all.

Suddenly, his Guard senses were ringing. He jumped a bit and paused the video. Something wasn't right. He looked down at the city, it wasn't.. Noisy? There was a faint grainy noise in the background. That wasn't good. Before he could think any further, his phone dinged and a video immediately opened. He didn't even click on anything? The video was a show.. With a tv guy and... The SMG4 crew..? Nononono, that wasn't right. Both SMG4 and Mario weren't even in there! They didnt even look that happy. He needed to find out what was happening, and real quick.

He quickly turned off his phone and used his power to quickly teleport to the city, landing him in one of the alleyways. He peeked out a bit and.. Oh. That doesn't look natural. Everybody was glued to screens and broadcasts of that same show. He looked around before sprinting right into the crowd. He waved and waved infront of one of them, yet they didn't respond. Just faintly smiling at the show. He was concerned, and scared. Who's that tv guy behind this? And how did he do all of this? And another question is.. Where was SMG4?

So many questions yet little to no answers at all. He was a bit stressed but knew he had to keep his calm. He quickly sprinted back into the same alleyway and sat by a wall. Thankfully, that spot was obscured by the darkness and buildings so he didn't have to worry much about getting seen. He looked back at his phone and opened it back up. The video was still there. He lowered the volume since he couldn't seem to remove it, nor even pause it. He decided to look into Google and search about this guy but then, he was already there in the search bar. And every single one of the searches was all.. Related to him?! This was not good. He searched up the guy anyways and read all about him.

"Mr Puzzles..? Getting popular in literally less than a month?! That's ridiculous! Everybody is going crazy about that tv guy!"

He gritted his teeth, hard. It was insane to think about really. Baffling almost.

There's no need to be surprised nor speechless. He needed to investigate and get ready for whatever this guys got planning next. GSP shakes his head to let those thoughts away and started to focus. For the next few months GSP would watch, observe, learn, and plan. During this time he didn't really know if there were even any survivors of the brainwash and all of that out there besides him. But he was too busy. He had no time for that.

Time passed until.. The time came. He was prepared, and ready for what's to come. He knew the entire building plan for the place since well, he quickly grabbed and copied another version before the people would find out during one of his investigations. He used his teleportation power for a second to land him straight to the facility where they're all at. Puzzlevision Studios. Once he was there he climbed into the vents, went pass people undetected. It was going fine. He realized his cooldown for his teleportation ability was about done so he pointed his finger right at the entrance of the big man's office. And there it is. The office where he's at. It looked intimidating, for sure. And tall. And big. Not really good considering he's literally 5'0 and that man is like 10ft. He stood there for a couple of seconds, taking deep breaths and gulping. This was it. Everything will go back to normal. It won't happen like before. He made a grave mistake. But this time, he won't make any mistakes this time. Not. Again. He had one chance. And so, he opened the doors.

The doors created as they opened slowly. The light from the outside illuminated the dark and ominous room. GSP slowly walks in, with his hand to his chest as he feels as if his chest was getting tighter by the second. He notices the chair behind desk infront of him slowly turning towards him. His eyes widen for a second before focusing back. And there he was. The man all responsible behind all of this. Mr Puzzles.

"Well well well.. I suppose you've been KEEPING a close EYE on me? Colour me IMPRESSED. Getting through this PLACE without getting noticed, that's something for SURE."

GSP's eyes start to narrow at the tv man. He felt a bit mad. He didn't know why but he was.

"You know, you aren't really the FIRST one who's ever tried to face me down on a 1v1 ALONE. Actually, you're the SECOND!"

There was someone else?.. So there were people out there that weren't affected..? Damnit, he should've.. No. Not right now. They're probably gone anyways...

"Whatever, did you actually know I was coming here?"

"Nononono, I wasn't really EXPECTING you. This day has gotten quite BORING but seeing this just made a it a whole lot more INTERESTING."

Puzzles giggled a bit. GSP couldn't understand why he was even giggling. He didn't even look concerned? Is he messing around with him?

"Why aren't you reporting me to the other employees then?"

"I thought that maybe we could have a one on one CONVERSATION! Talk everything out. Besides, this is the FIRST TIME we've both met right? And having them here would just RUIN that! Introductions are always a PLEASURE.."

Something didn't feel right about his tone. It didn't seem genuine. Though GSP did start to feel a little ticked off.

"I already read all about you so we don't have to do those."

"Hmpf. And here I thought I could talk and talk all about ME. You're really making this FASTER. Say, why are you even HERE anyways, GSP?"

GSPs eyes widen in hearing his name. How'd he even know his name? Didn't he just say this is the first time they've both met? He's lying about something..

"I'm here to save everyone from what you've done. You've done some damage to this place and my job is maintain balance and order. Although you aren't a virus or anything, you doing this already makes me consider you a threat."

"Hohoho a THREAT? Such a HARSH way of calling someone!"

He didn't seem fazed about what GSP just said. He was just so.. Relaxed? Why even is he?!

"This isn't a joke you tv head."

"I know. It won't really MATTER anyways."

GSP was starting to get ticked off by the second. He was about to get pissed.

"Enough games, you're just trying to buy more time for yourself aren't you?! I won't listen anymore to that bull crap! I'M ENDING THIS!"

GSP quickly charges towards him with blazing speed. GSP was ready to strike the tv and end his horrible reign!.. Until...

THUD!

"...?!"

"Pardon me, WHAT WERE YOU SAYING?"

GSP was panting, why wasn't he moving..? Sweat started running down his face. He felt overpowered and overwhelmed. What was..? As GSP looked up, he was staring down with the head of security, Lucian.

GSP looked back at Puzzles, only realizes he was inches away from actually hitting him. But Lucian's interference ruined it. GSP felt like he was choking under his breath, his breathing getting faster by the second. GSP tries to smile a bit to hide it.

"Hah.. I-i should've known you had a person in here.."

"Of course I DID! Im not STUPID am I? I've got to say though, you really should've SEEN that coming. You got too COMFORTABLE with yourself! See what HAPPENS."

GSP's face goes from 'tough guy acting' to 'absolute dread'. Those words. It echoed endlessly in his mind. It.. Reminded him of.. What happened.... Why didn't he learn his lesson after all that? Was he still naive? Was he getting overconfident? Or was he.. Getting too comfortable? A tear runs down his face at the thought of all of that. Anger and sadness overcoming him. Eventually, he couldn't handle it any longer.

"You..

YOU SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!"

Puzzles jumps a bit while Lucian gasps. Mr Puzzles had never seen such.. Reckless behavior. His eye twitches.

"QUIET!

... That was RUDE. And not in a GOOD way."

GSP silenced himself. He felt scared and utterly destroyed. He somehow pissed off the tv man himself. Guess he pushed a bit too far. GSP gulps down. Puzzles pipes down a bit.

"You're LUCKY that I'm deciding not to THROW you out yet. Because I find you USEFUL. But do REMEMBER... you doing that again might as well be the cause of your TERMINATION."

GSP felt a huge shiver run down his spine by that last sentence. He didn't really know that he could be this frightening.

"... Got nothing ELSE to say? Good. Because I was starting to find your small talk UNAMUSING."

Puzzles looks at Lucian with a look. Lucian nods in response and looks back GSP. Before GSP could even saw anything, Lucian wacked the back of his head, blacking him out.

GSP found himself standing in the void. It was white and pristine. It was.. Peaceful. He didn't remember the last time he ever had such a peaceful moment like this one since the whole brainwash thing. He turned to look behind him and saw a familiar figure. It was glitchy, but it had a star looking shape.. And had a purple colour.

"It's nice to see you again ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒."

His eyes glow up and he starts feeling butterflies in stomach. His face starts turning red at the sight. The figure was so familiar, yet so blurry. He was unsure.

"D-d.. Do I know you?.."

GSP feels the figures bright smile turn into a sad frown. He feels a bit bad.

"You don't remember do you? You've been trying to forget all about me and our home."

'Our home'...? Oh.

"I-i.. I just don't want to remember.. I feel guilty about what happened... I got too comfortable.... It all led to.. Your death."

They both went silent for a while.

"So you do remember."

GSP tried to look down. The pain in his chest, his left arm feeling numb. The fire, that smile. It all came back. Just hearing those voices and those screams made him almost cry. The figure walks towards GSP and hugs him instantly. He felt a sense of warmth.

"It's going to be alright. Even if I am gone, I'll still be here, inside you to comfort you."

He hugged back, not wanting to let go. He knew this wasn't the real her but, just this was enough to make him feel safe. The figure slowly pulled him back with an upset face.

"You dont know what you got yourself into did you?"

GSP nods a bit, embarrassingly.

"... You won't remember anything after this, unfortunately. It'll just be blurry. That guy will just fill your head with some fake memories. But it still won't stop you from remembering me. You don't have to always leave the past be. Just remembering me is enough. Promise?"

She had a big and hopeful smile on her face. They used to make so many promises to each other. GSP didn't want to let her down, again. So with a smile, he said..

"A promise is a promise."

"Hehe.. Good to know that you remember how to promise someone, ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒."

GSP felt himself slowly waking up. Though this time.. He didn't remember anything that happened before this. It was blurry.. He looked down at himself.. He was wearing a black vest? He also saw a nurse.

"Ugh.. What happened..?"

"Oh! You woke up!"

The nurse looked like a fox. She had a tie and a pretty fluffy looking tail. She looked pretty happy. GSP's head was spinning.. [Probably because of what Lucian did]

"Before anything.. Who are you..?"

"Oh! Yeah. We haven't met before have we?"

She tidied herself a bit before getting into a 'professional' looking pose.

"My names Nira! I work as a nurse in the studio!"

"Studio..?"

"You're in Puzzlevision studios! I heard you work here as part of the security department or something? Lucian sent you here."

"... Why'd Lucian send me here? And also when did we have nurse..?"

"I uh.. Recently joined! You probably don't know me because I spend most of my time in this clinic. No worries you're in good hands! Oh and the reason he sent you here was because you got caught in an accident? Somewhere along those lines. "

He took a few more glances to the nurse and sighed. He got up from the bed and started to walk out.

"W-wait! Are you even okay? Where are you even going?"

"I'm going back to work of course. And I'm doing find, just a small headache."

GSP starts to walk out while Nira tried to catch up.

"Do you need any paracetamol atleast?!.. Awh man... Oh well, I guess I can go back now."

Nira starts walking back to her place while singing a tune, she finds Lucian sitting.

"Oh! Lucian! I thought you left already?"

Lucian turns to Nira in surprise and gets up.

"No I'm just.. Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure he just jumped off the bed and left when he woke up. Weird but eh I'm sure it's fine!"

"Ah.. Okay then."

"Need any help or anything?"

"No need, that's all I needed to know."

"Well then, See you again Lucian!"

As Lucian walked out, he felt a sense of regret and just.. A bit upset. Just knowing there was someone else besides him who was brave enough to face Puzzles was just.. Astounding. But having to stop GSP was bitter. And hitting him too was worse. Having to see GSP himself getting brainwashed was miserable. He sighed and walked through the facility trying to get his mind off it.

Back at the CCTV room, GSP sits at the chair. His head still hurting but it was at least bearable. Something about this room was weird. It felt like he had spent most of his time in there, yet it feels like he's never even been in here. Suddenly memories of him confronting his boss appear.

"Ugh.. Am I hallucinating? Why would I insult the boss..."

He hits his head a bit. He looks around the room and finds some books.

"... Should keep me from thinking about that.."

He took a book and started reading. Everything started to calm down, at least. From that day forward his life would be just working Puzzlevision. Unaware of the thought that he was.. Brainwashed.

A few months later..

01101000 01110100 01110100 01110000 01110011 00111010 00101111 00101111 01111001 01101111 01110101 01110010 01100101 00101101 01101100 01111001 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 01110011 01110100 01110010 01100001 01110111 00101110 01110000 01100001 01100111 01100101

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Somewhere completely different..

There is a girl with a purple hijab scrolling on her phone while listening to her playlist that has a bunch of artists like teminite, JT Music, Camellia- oh wait back on topic. She looked and looked and found out about her OC in an au of sorts?

"Wowie zowie! I should prolly check this out!"

She looked and read. It was really interesting. Suddenly, a funny thought appeared in her head.

"Oh! Wouldn't it be a coooool and funny idea if I actually possessed him?"

She looked around

"I mean- nobody would notice!"

And so the gremlin giggled to herself mischievously and went to the RTV realm. Don't ask how, she just did it. Nobody could see her as she floats around the place cuz, she doesn't really have her own body in that universe does she? She floated around observing the play until she got in the CCTV room to see.. GSP!

"Ohohoho! There he is!"

She floated near him and did some funny hand thing and faces. She thought it was really funny.

"Brr... Who the hell turned up the ac?! It's freezing..."

"Whoopsies! Enough playing."

She moved away from GSP to let him have some comfort. She knew how to give people space atleast. GSP's eyes started to flicker a bit.

"Ugh.. I'm gonna sleep for a... Second..."

Bam! His head hits the desk and he sleeps. Wow, how many hours has he not slept? Eh, no matter. This gremlin can now do her thing without him noticing!

"Come on Purp this'll only be like.. What? Less than a minute? Nobody'll notice! Ok chat, watch me possess my oc!

She said to her nonexistent chat. And so she braced herself and..!

She opened her eyes slowly but surely. She was in front of the monitor... She looked down and saw.. GSP's hands! Which means...

"I did it!"

Purp quickly closes her [wait isn't this GSP's body? Oh well whatever.] mouth, not wanting to be noticed. She giggles a bit.

"Well! Wasn't that hard wasn't it? I'm so cool! Now that I can say goodbye and yeetus to this body! I've finished my silly lil mission, it's time to!-... Huh."

She was confused. Why can't she.. Get out? She tried again.. Again... Again and... Oh. She's..

"Whoopsies. I think im stuck."

Her face droops down.

RTV AU belongs to @4thwallbreakerdraws2

"Uh oh."

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Nira belongs to @niranutcake

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[steviewashere]

Always Need You

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Vague Suicidal Thoughts Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Hand Holding, Eddie Munson Overthinks A LOT, Reference to Hamlet, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Smart Steve Harrington (Because He IS), Perceptive Steve Harrington, Water Imagery, They Go to The Beach, They're Going to Plot Against Steve's Parents For @steddieangstyaugust Day 7 Prompt: Moonlight Though, I will say, I went more with moon rather than moonlight, but there's still a little bit in here about the actual moonlight.

🌕—————🌊 The sand is wet, squishy, and sort of grainy under his toes. At the edge of the water, there’s not enough of it to come rushing between his toes, but he knows he’ll walk back from here with soles painted brown. Little bits and bobs of gritty sand in the fine wrinkles of his feet. Probably catch some of the drier stuff, too. The ocean roars again; a big, cold, eye-catching wave crashing into his shins. Thank god I rolled up my sweats, he thinks.

It wasn’t his idea to come out here. Not out here as in right now, but out here to the beach in general. He’s never been. Doesn’t think he could survive if swept away into the ocean—though, maybe he’s alright with that thought. Passively and not, he’s okay with it.

Steve’s idea came one late night when his parents told him it would be good for him to get out of Hawkins for a while. Neither in an act of kindness nor grace, the Harringtons don’t do that. Him and Steve think it’s one big notion to follow through with the motion of selling the house—the estate he had joked once, empty silence following it that still haunts him to this day.

That alone had to be reason…18, he thinks, of all the reasons to come contemplating out here.

Out here. Out here.

Only thirty yards away from the beach house they rented for the foreseeable week. He’s having a good time, at least he believes so anyway. Hanging out with his boyfriend—which, shit, that’s the least plausible thing he’s ever heard in his short life—making s’mores around a screen-perfect campfire, holding each other close under a heavy and hot comforter while the cold breeze outside comes flittering through a cracked window, having sex for the love and no longer the thrill. There’s no thrill if they can’t be caught and there’s no thrill if they aren’t dancing around each other anymore. There’s a thrill to it, though, that makes him excited just to get his shoulder touched, but that comes from the lonely years that prehistorically predated all that he has now.

Thirty yards away from the safety zone. Or is it a buffering zone, he asks himself. It doesn’t matter. Steve’ll probably correct him on it for the fiftieth time and they’ll giggle like it’s funny, but sometimes he thinks he gets on Steve’s nerves after a while. Can’t even get your stupid brain to remember what he loves. What kind of boyfriend are you?

Out here, he doesn’t have to worry about Steve stroking his forehead and complimenting him all soft like. Because he can’t be read on the face in the dark. He can’t be picked apart in that silent, persistent, perceptive way that Steve knows how. Sometimes he wonders if the roles are actually reversed—maybe Steve is the freak, maybe he’s been stalking the entire time. Because how in the hell does he just know most days? The self loathing and the wandering thoughts and the kick to his own ribs…he’s picked up and carried by Steve’s hands after it all. It won’t be the last time, he knows that, but maybe the last time won’t be so far away.

The ocean waves crash into him again. This time, he staggers with the force. Hands plucking on the sides of his pants, trying to get them to stay rolled up. Toes clenching for purpose in the wet sand. 

He wonders if, when and how he falls, if he’ll survive the ocean. If it’ll be like surviving his brain the last few years. Bobbing and weaving and then getting caught on something and then drowning in that pocket for a while. He wonders what drowning feels like. 

Steve told him it burned. Steve told him that it was like an icy fire was making home in his lungs. Steve told him he’d never been more afraid of anything else in his life. Steve told him to stop asking, teary eyed and frightened. So he dropped it. He listened like an obeying dog.

Though, he wonders if, how and long he continued to ask, if Steve would’ve told him what it felt like to be heavy in the cold. If the imminent death that seemed closer and closer was easy to come to terms with, or if he wanted to kick his legs harder to propel away.

He shakes himself and rights where he stands. The wave recedes. Low tide soon, maybe—that’s more something that Steve would know, not him. Sometimes when he gets too big, he needs to feel small for a long while. He thinks the low tide is going to be soon. Sooner, if he continues to stay out here.

Now that the waters have lessened their work, a mercy cry, he hears more of the world. The cars driving by late night on the road just beyond the beach houses. Clicks of lighters and that first slow inhale. A far away boat, one long horn.

A stride of heavyset feet on dry to wet ground. The struggle, he thinks, of them trying not to eat it on the sand dunes. But the stampede gets closer, closer, closer still as he continues to stand. Eyes out on the vacant, abyss horizon. Water kissing the insides of his ankles. A calm, deep nothingness around him—he wonders if it would be easy to slip into it, or maybe he’s already there. I could live out here, he thinks.

“Hey,” a familiar voice pants on his right, “hey, Eds. Found you.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of the water. Doesn’t blink. “Didn’t know we were playing a game of hide & seek,” he murmurs, but it’s more of a croak. It sort of hurts. Maybe it’ll stay this way, for his sake. But he doesn’t get what he wants, even when the mere thought manifests. He knows he won’t get it because he’s already melting with Steve’s warmth around him.

Steve chuckles deep from his chest. Shoulder bumping Eddie. Bare skin from elbow down on Eddie’s own. He’s warm. “I came out of the shower to an empty bed,” he murmurs, too. 

“Sorry,” he responds on reflex.

“Don’t need to be,” Steve brushes off—that perceptive way of his. “I saw you from the window. Thought I’d come join. Maybe the breeze will help dry my hair.”

Eddie gives a noncommittal grunt.

Almost in his ear, Steve copies him. “You’ve got that look on your face,” he whispers, “what’re you thinkin’ about, Eds?”

You’ve caught me, he wants to exclaim, you know me! How the hell do you know me?!

A million things, he then wants to say, a million pointless, probably concerning things.

He thinks about that Hamlet speech:

“To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep, No more.”

The Hamlet speech that made him pass theater class. The Hamlet speech that he clung onto years after because it just made sense. For once, with this skillset and his wandering imagination, he could focus his brain front and center on Shakespeare’s words. It was the first time that Shakespeare ever made sense. Even as there’s a million interpretations, much like his thoughts, there was a certain way he read it that could only cover how he felt. A passive question he always asked himself. And yet, it was a non-passive question—he knew what it meant for him.

He’s thinking of the time he saw a murder of crows protect the limp, sodden corpse of a stray cat he once fed, now turned to roadkill. Of how he wandered close to them. Of how they didn’t ignore him, but rather let him pick the cat up and bury her in the soft dirt across the street. How they watched him pick weeds that resembled flowers enough to count as something. Like he did for his mom whenever he visited her grave, too young to have a job and couldn’t afford the big, fragrant bouquets that he saw others wander by with. He’s wondering if they both appreciated it, or if they pitied him like the fool he is—maybe they saw that he was trying too hard to make things right, as if it was his whole responsibility to mend the holes.

He’s thinking about the first time he had Steve’s hands on his body. Applying pressure to wounds that weren’t superficial in the slightest. But Steve had believed he would survive. He was the only one to believe it. He wonders if the rest of their crew looked at Steve the way Eddie’s mother probably looked at him when he visited. Pity, like he was a fool, too. Maybe love makes fools of all of them, pity or no—even in the good relationships, like he has now.

He’s thinking about how, even though he has a lot of good things, all of it doesn’t outweigh the terrible he experiences back home. It’s safer by the cold, crashing ocean than it is walking through the back ways of Hawkins. That says something, not poetic, he thinks.

“I don’t know,” he eventually says, “probably too much for what’s supposed to be a vacation.” Eddie swallows. There’s nothing in his mouth but words and teeth and his own tongue. 

He wants to be honest.

A moment later, he admits softer, “Thinking about dying. About…about if I’d survive being swept into the ocean. Probability points to a zero percent chance because I don’t swim that good.”

It’s quiet again. The way it was before Steve got here. Cars beyond and clicking lighters and small crashes of tiny ocean waves. So quiet, he thinks he hears the squelch of his feet in the sand. The squelch of him grabbing onto something before he drifts too far away.

“I used to think that, too,” Steve breathes. “Used to wonder about it all the time. If I’d survive the impossible. A car crash from any side, the drop over the quarry, Lover’s Lake and the ocean.”

Eddie looks away from the water, finally. Not a side glance at Steve, but something contemplative at his own feet. “What made you stop?” He asks quietly.

Steve shrugs, feels his shoulder brush. “I don’t think I stopped until Vecna fucking ate it,” he confesses in a low murmur. “Until I knew I was safe.” His hand, cold and slightly damp reaches out for Eddie’s wrist. Fingers wrapping around, not clenching or squeezing, just loosely grasping for purchase.

“I wish I felt like that,” Eddie sighs. “Maybe it’s just not in the cards for me.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, so clearly thinking. Probably mapping out all kinds of routes in that wonderful brain of his. His whole arm slips through the gap of Eddie’s, linking them together. “Did you know that the ocean wouldn’t be what it is without the moon?”

He looks to Steve at that. Questioning eyes and words bubbling inside. Can’t help himself, he laughs. “What?” He gets out between fits, “where did that come from?”

A smile adorns Steve’s face. A soft, thoughtful one. “It’s true, though,” he speaks, quiet and traversing, “the…uh…there’s gravitational pulls that come from both the Moon and the Earth. And these forces kind of work together. The pull on the Moon makes these bulges in the ocean, both where the closest side is to it and the farthest side. These make the tides go high, those big beautiful waves. And when the bulges are low, low tides are created.

“Without these forces, without the Moon, the Earth’s ocean would be only low tide. That means a lot of the smaller animals that survive off of these tides would cease to exist, the ecosystems would be absolutely destroyed. The ocean kind of carries the things these animals need to survive. And, well, without them and the Moon…poof…no more.” Steve’s smile doesn’t leave his face, but it’s stronger now that it’s pointed directly at Eddie. All of his teeth a muted white in the light reflecting off of the water. And his eyes glistening, dark in an abyssal way. His skin a dusty white-blue.

For once, he doesn’t know what to think. Or how to think. It’s as if the currents that activated all those burbling worries just ceased to exist. He’s a lot thankful for it, but he won’t say that yet. Steve’s got this look to him that reads more. More in the best way.

“How do you”—

“Science class. It was, outside of gym, the subject I was best at.”

Eddie probably could’ve figured. Steve’s always had this way to him that reads: diamond in the rough. Things waiting to be excavated. So he’ll go with it. “And…where is this”—

“You’re the moon to me,” Steve says easily, “you do this really wonderful thing to me, y’know? Make my heart race every time I look at you or touch you, even when I just hear about you. And makes my day sort of…worth it? Think it would destroy me if you weren’t here. If, after all this wonderful time with you, we got nothing together in the end.

“I don’t know…I don’t know where your brain is tonight or what you’ve been thinking exactly, but I can assure you right now you’re much needed. Not just for me, you know? Dustin looks to you for guidance all the time. All the time. He’ll come bug me at work, say something about Hellfire, and is usually saying: ‘I bet Eddie would know. He always knows.’ And it’s the same with the other members, I can tell you right now.

“Wayne would be…I don’t want to even imagine what Wayne would be like.” Steve’s eyes glisten impossibly more. Swallowing hard—probably consuming all that flickers through him, what those things are, Eddie knows better than to ask about them. “I don’t know what I’d be,” he whispers, “if I had to only wonder what you’d think or what you’d say when something happens. If I had to wonder because you weren’t…” His fingers are still wrapped around Eddie’s wrist, but now they tighten. Hard enough Eddie begins to feel the bite of his nails. Another swallow. Clarity. “My point is is that you’re a much needed presence in everybody’s lives and all those shitheads from Hawkins who don’t like you, because they can’t see the person you actually are, they can go suck a fat fucking egg.”

All the air in Eddie’s lungs leaves him, wheezing out of his mouth as he laughs something so loud and unexpected, he thinks it could rival the sound of crashing waves. “Wow,” he marvels, “you have such a way with words.” He squeezes the hand in his, fingers tight to Steve’s. “And for the record, sweetheart,” he says when he can fully catch his breath, “I wouldn’t actually do anything, y’know. It’s just…I wander, I guess. Especially out here. When it’s like only quiet and pretty and…The best part about this beach not even being close to Hawkins is that nobody here knows me. And I can just be. Though, I guess just being makes me think too hard. About life back home.”

Steve hums. Smile still stretching across his face. And with him, Eddie knows he’s safe. In their hold they have, in the light they share, in the warmth they’ve created. He can admit anything out here and Steve won’t stare at him strangely.

“Maybe we should find somewhere else to go,” Steve quietly suggests a moment later. “Now that the world isn’t ending. And we know that it’s all done for for good. We should go find a reclusive place to be. I’ve heard that Oregon’s got some great beaches. Washington and California, too.”

Eddie snorts. “I don’t want to laugh at your idea, but how on Earth are we going to be able to afford that?”

“Easy,” Steve says, “we goad my parents into giving me money. Maybe I…I’ll come up with some lie that I heard that they’re selling the house without giving me notice. Because I know that’s exactly what they’re doing. And I’ll threaten to like…I’ll expose them, that’s it! Ruin their reputation if they don’t agree.”

“It’s alarming that you’ve got a mastermind plan already building in that head of yours,” Eddie states. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. You always know how to get things done. What to say.”

A flattered expression washes over Steve’s face. But he doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s words. A discussion for another time, then. Instead, he goes on, “I’ll get Nancy in on it, Eds. She’s been waiting since high school to take my parents down a notch. This is her chance. And this is going to be our chance to get away.”

“I’m with you so far, but I’m hung up on what I’ll do without Wayne.”

“Bring Wayne,” he says immediately, “he’ll have his own room and everything. We’ll figure it out.” And Steve’s eyes are squinted with his smile, his body lax and easy. He knows, in his own perceptive way, that they will.

“Okay,” Eddie gives in, “we’ll figure this out.”

Steve swings their arms back and forth for a moment. “Let’s go to bed, baby. I want to show you all the ways I love you.”

He can’t stop himself from letting out a giddy giggle. “Okay,” he agrees, “let’s do that.”

“And the ways I need you. Because I’ll always need you, Eds. Even when your brain goes elsewhere, I’ll need you.”

“I need you, too, Stevie.”

And as Steve pulls him along the dunes, sand sticky to the soles of his feet, Eddie takes in the roaring quiet again. Wondering, the only thing he can wonder, what it feels like to live in Steve’s heart the way he does in Eddie’s. He’s warm. He’s excited. And he knows, perpetually and no matter where they are in the world, they’re safe with each other.

Much like the moon will always be with the ocean.

🌕—————🌊

[problematicsashawaybright]

why do people think taylor swift is gay? /genq

Unfortunately I can't even Narnia blog being asked about Jake Gyllenhaal my way out of this because I seem like the kind of person who would know this, and unfortunately I have a dark and twisted past (ex swiftie) so I do know exactly why.

(disclaimer: I am not a swiftie anymore, I do not support most of her current actions, I am an adult with a job and don't care if she's gay or not, but unfortunately the thing you fixated on at 14 years old does stick with you and I have this information in my brain forever)

Okay so going off of most to least referenced evidence that is confirmed to have happened and is not a theory

1. VERY reoccurring theme in all of her music of having to hide a huge part of your identity because the world will never understand and you will be ostracized if anyone finds out (she's never mentioned what exactly it is) which feels strange considering her public image is a cishet white woman who's mostly only publicly dated cishet white men. This goes along with reoccurring themes of being in love with your best friend and lying to the world.

2. VERY intense "girl best friend" relationships with at least two women who also have had gay rumors surrounding them. The first with Dianna Agron, which ended abruptly. She wrote the song "wonderland" which is supposably about Harry styles (which in my opinion was 100% a PR relationship regardless of anyone's sexuality), which explores themes of finding a true love that isn't like anything you've ever experienced before, but you need to keep it hidden because no one will ever understand (once again, her relationship with Harry Styles was VERY very very public and everyone knew about it and no one cared)

2. The second, even more intense one, was with Karlie Kloss, a victoria's secret model. They met at the 2013 victorias's secret fashion show where Taylor performed, and they were inseparable for years. Taylor took a break from dating publicly during this time as the 1989 era started, but she and Karlie were VERY close. They posted each other constantly, they talked about each other constantly, they did photoshoots, they did interviews, etc. Despite taking a break from dating, all of her music around this time was about finding yourself, being in love with your best friend, and (you guessed it) hiding from the media. There are countless photos of them holding hands, cuddling, and even of Taylor having a hicky on her that she was trying to hide after leaving a three day sleepover at Karlie's house. In 2014, they took The road trip to big sur, in which she 1. Used a lyric from one of the most romance themed songs on the album as an Instagram caption, and then eventually changed it when they had their falling out and 2. Posted the photo of a daisy on the car dashboard with Karlie tagged, and then most of her love songs about a secret love from then on either referenced daisies, or had daisy imagery in her music videos and performances. In late 2014, they went to a 1975 concert in a private VIP area where they thought no one was filming them, but paparazzi videos surfaced. The videos were grainy and hard to see exactly because it was 2014 and taken at a dark concert from far away, but they're dancing and grinding against each other, and then it SEEMS like they MAY have kissed or even made out. After this leaked to the press, they were seen together less and less until they just stopped mentioning each other entirely, and Karlie Kloss got married (to a man)

3. That one era in 2019 where gay pride became like. Her entire brand. She made an entire song and music video about homophobia, advocated for gay rights, donated and told others to donate to gay organizations, was set to perform at a pride festival, wore rainbows to performances, and literally spoke the words "gay pride is what makes me, me". The theory is that she was kind of testing the waters and maybe planning on saying something about her own identity, but in 2019, all of her music she made since she was 15/16 got sold by her old label to the worst possible person, and she got scared, and then covid happened, so the concert for that album (loverfest) got canceled.

4. Multiple people close to her have implied that she may have had relationships with women. Including her best friend and producer who she's worked with for years accidentally calling her a gay woman in an interview, and then panicking and walking it WAY back when the interviewer asked him if she's gay. Another time was her ex boyfriend from I believe 2016/2017 calling her the D slur, and then implying that he was her beard. She referenced being called a slur and this whole situation in her 2022 album midnights.

5. This isn't solid concrete evidence, but it haunts me. Whenever there was a significant date related to Karlie Kloss on the 2023-2024 eras tour, she played her saddest and angriest songs about a lost relationship. Like too many times to be a coincidence. It happened on her birthday. It happened on her wedding anniversary. It happened when Karlie Kloss was literally in the audience for one of the LA shows in 2023. She doesn't choose the surprise songs in advance, and people from her crew have even said that she changed the songs the night she realized Karlie was there (who, btw, bought her own ticket and sat in the nosebleeds after flying across the country less than a month after giving birth. If she were invited, she would be in the VIP tent. She was literally just in the only available seats in the back of the audience, and was only moved after security realized that she was there)

That's just what I can remember off the top of my head, there's definitely more, but I have to go to class.

[styx-class-nhp]

[Hellhound.omf]

[Attatched is a collage of various files, predominantly recorded by Styx.

The great beast of steel and bone plods through a cool, dim tunnel, head held low to the ground. Searching.

A scent on the air.

An all too familiar flesh.

The beast puts her ear to the ground.]

[The footage cuts to grainy, silent security recordings.

A disused cabin. From the ramshackle state, and several burnt out control panels, not the room's original purpose. It matters not now. It will serve quite well as a tomb.

Three more clones rest, having barricaded the door. One sleeps, another tends to its own wounds, while the clone nearest to the camera turns it's head towards the entryway. At what is unclear, at first. Then the camera begins to shake, ever so slightly. Sound. Bass.

That visible drumming rises to an infernal fever pitch, stops. All three are awake now. Stolen and improvised weapons. Raised. Two watch the door, one hides behind cover.

None are prepared as the floor caves beneath them. Styx gulps one down in an instant, the other two disappearing into the darkness with her. The pit is barely within the camera's field of view, showing only brief flashes of gunfire, ghostly cherenkov, a few drops of blood spewing from arteries.]

[Back to her eyes.

A dim incandescent glow issues from an omnihook. The screen is cracked, but usable. Syyx affixes it in her eye - the footage is momentarily corrupted, brief flashes of text jumping hitherto before fading.

When it is legible once more, she is running. Down, down, down, back into the bowels. Towards her den, take a right, that's it... another cargo hold... another maze... another snare into which her prey has so willingly dashed.

This bay is brighter than cold storage. Her cherenkov glow less obvious. She can hide, and stalk, and pounce-!

Silent footsteps, a crouched, quadruped posture. Always the silence - nothing that thick, heavy and metallic should move so softly, nor with that gait. But the red, raw muscles beneath ripple in time with each step, her tail almost suspended midair as she balances.

Up, up, left, behind cover, over the canister, don't knock it over- shit don't knock it over- down, behind cover again... check the data, their rendezvous is a little to the right. Leap from cover, down between containers.

Her maw sparks with electricity, ready to kill.

Nothing.

No... breathing. Footsteps, from far away. They're not here yet.

Several moments of delicate fumbling later, a container is opened. Full of some industrial cleaner, blast! Another, more precious time. A human's senses could pick up the sound of the approach now, carried faintly by still air.

A second one opened. Empty!

Styx dashes in, eases the door shut. Concentrates, listenes. Nine more. Nine more sets of boots. Nine more synchronised breaths.

Nine more corpses]

(Part 1/?)

[izzysillyhandsy]

What do these 2 (grainy) pictures have in common?

"Can't believe I was living like this", "I feel like a million bucks actually" - great! A step in the right direction. He's on the way to healing - it's a new day!

Except he's not.

These manic phases are so over the top they're a little creepy. They're also extremely short-lived. Both times it seems to be Izzy who snaps Ed out of it and takes him to new levels of cruelty and desperation.

"No more booze, no more drugs, and more importantly, no more Izzy!" - Ed said it himself: "I got all the poison out of my system".

So what is Izzy to Ed? Poison? A reminder of his worst traits? An anchor chaining him to a past he feels no longer a part of? A mirror of his self-hatred to pull him down off any shaky ledge he's climbed? Or a constant reminder of Ed's perceived inability to love (and be loved)?

I am struggling to define their relationship, there are so many conflicting emotions there. This strong bond of trust and loyalty, of mutual love (I've said it before season 2, and I'll definitely say it now. I don't even want to qualify it as "toxic" or "unhealthy", there is real love there). On the other hand, Izzy's refusal to acknowledge Ed's desperation and sadness, and Ed's yearning for a new start and getting rid of all the ballast (including Izzy, maybe especially Izzy). Knowing the other one so well, and at the same time misunderstanding each other constantly. Being tired of each other.

Both are restricting the other from growth or change. Both, I think, kind of always expected to die together. Both feel, deep down, that they can't live without the other. Both would like to cut this tangled connection, but they're always being drawn back in.

One line I found very interesting was Ed's "We could have worked this out!" after the duel. How??? How do you break that chain?

I think it had to be like it ultimately played out - both of them cutting themselves free by almost dying, going as far as they could and, finally, being reborn. Ed, by the love of another. Izzy, by being an indestructible fucker (and protector of the crew of course).

We will see how their relationship evolves, or if it's just over (who am I kidding, of course it's not over. But it's a new start for both of them, and about time!).

Tl;dr: if was a crewmember on the Revenge and walked in on Ed looking chipper with a basket of bottles under his arm I'd run away as fast as I could.

[viscerax]

How to never stop being sad

(Repeat to yourself that they're not really gone)

Tim opens the door to his home, practically throwing his jacket to the floor. He calls out, announcing his arrival. For just a moment he thinks he hears a response. A call from another room. Jay greeting him. Brian welcoming him home. He doesn't really hear it. He knows its not real. But it doesn't matter.

(Time has proven

That fooling yourself into believing a lie

Is the most effective way

To deal with things you have no control over)

__________________________________________

(Keep listening to the mixtapes they made you)

Tim pops the tape into the radio of his shitty car. A compilation of all the songs he and Jay listened to on their 'road trip'. Sometimes it made him sad to listen to them, to think about the bittersweet memories of the man sitting next to him and dumbly singing along, or when they would yell at eachother as the music filled the background.

__________________________________________

(Stay up every single night staring at your phone, Either attempting to gather up the courage, To turn these demons, these constant reminders, Of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream)

Tim clutches his phone with conviction. He plays the voice-mails over an over again, as if hearing their voices would bring them back. He listens to Jay's grainy voice asking for a call back, and he let's out a shuddering breath. He knew the man for such a short amount of time, most of which was spent at eachothers necks in an argument. And yet, he felt closer to him than he had with anybody since Brian.

__________________________________________

(Or praying just for one second you could feel

The warmth of equally returned love)

Tim remembers the feeling of Jay's hand slotting into his as he drove. He remembered that look that Jay had in his eyes whenever he was staring at Tim. That look that made Tim feel like he was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. It filled him with a bitter weight. How could he have ever punched this man, this man that looked at him like he was a precious jewel?

Tim remembers the feeling of Brian pressed against him as the two sat on his sofa, away from the publics watchful eye. He remembers Brian's arm around his waist, and his lips on his. He remembers how Brian looked at him the same way that Jay did. He remembers that sweet smile and that adorable tooth gap, and he remembers the feeling of Brian's mustache rubbing against his upper lip as they kissed.

Sometimes he can still feel it, for a fleeting moment he feels a hand in his, or an arm around his waist. And for a moment he thinks 'this is nice.' And then he remembers. And its not nice anymore.

__________________________________________

(Go out for coffee four times a week by yourself)

The baristas have got to think he's the weirdest guy ever. He sits there for hours on end on his days off. The shop is so far away from his home, but he pretends like it isn't. Tells himself he was going to come down here soon anyways, so he might as well. The coffee isn't even good. But he drinks it anyways. He thinks back to when him and Brian were filming that god-forsaken film. He remembers the shoddy dialogue they exchanged out on the wooden steps.

He stays there until closing sometimes. He doesn't even do much. Sits there, spaces out, tries to imagine he's there with Brian, or with Jay, or perhaps both. And the illusion lasts for a bit before its broken by the sound of the bell ringing over the door. He always looks back, always thinks for a moment that he's going to see them standing there. It never happens, but that doesn't stop him from hoping.

__________________________________________

(Talk down on yourself whenever possible

My life is shit because I deserve it, right?)

Your fault. He hears whispers in the night. He knows its his own brain. He knows its himself. He thinks its funny how the human mind betrays itself. He thinks, it must be true, though. To hear it so often.

Tim tried to distance himself from anything to do with the channel. But on particularly lonely nights, he would visit the Twitter page, see the tons of people who made comments, who were trying to solve the whole thing along with them like it was a game.

"I think Tim is responsible for Jay's death. If he hadn't left Jay, he still would've been alive." He read that comment and let out a laugh. At least he wasn't the only one who thought so.

"That was cold of Tim to let Brian fall like that." That one hit Tim. He knew it wasn't true. He knew there was no way to catch him, and he didn't even know it was Brian then. Still. It hurt.

(You must have done something real bad

Its nearly impossible for you to cry now)

__________________________________________

(Avoid your friends for weeks even though

They're the only sense of consistency you have)

He let's the phone ring a few times before finally picking up.

"Hello?" He answers, sounding not-so enthusiastic to be talking to whoever was on the other line.

"Hey, Tim!" Oh great. One of Tim's work friends, Eric's, voice came out of the phone. "You still down to watch the game tonight?" Tim was invited to some football watch party. Tim didn't like football, but the concept of being invited to hang out was nice enough. He said yes at the time, but here he was, sitting on his floor, tears still remnant in his eyes.

"Oh, uhm, no thanks. Got caught up with something. Maybe next time?" There won't be a next time. He knows he can only cancel on so many plans before they get tired of him. But he hears Eric hum in agreement and the two part ways.

__________________________________________

(Allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love)

Tim sets the ukulele down with a discontented sigh. The instrument no longer rested neatly in his hands. He could no longer play the chords so fluidly like he used to. Now, whenever he picks it up, it feels more like a chore. He plucks the strings a bit, but nothing more. He thinks about Jay, and how when he found out that Tim could play the ukulele, he told him that it was "basically a guitar but gayer".

__________________________________________

(Watch as you begin to take a backseat

To the world around you, don't fight it

Become a secondary character in your own motion picture)

His days go by in a blur. Every single moment passing by him like he's watching a film. Every day at work feeling like nothing but a mundane task that he's forced to watch someone else do. At this point, he's not sure he even wants to fix things. He stops seeing his counselor after a few months. She wasn't any help, bless her soul. It's not like it was her fault. You can't fix someone who keeps breaking themselves down.

__________________________________________

(But most importantly

Drown every single one of your feelings

In old stolen rum)

If Tim were at a bar, he surely would have been cut off by now. He was almost done with the bottle. He could barely see straight, and he knew he was going to have one hell of a hangover tommorow.

(Learn to love the taste of it dripping down your throat)

It burns. And it tastes gross. Tim is reminded why he never drinks everytime he takes a shot. But it doesn't matter. The burn is good, right? It makes him feel good, his brain fuzzy. It clouds his mind and yet makes him feel so much at the same time.

(Find comfort in the warmth coming from your stomach

You're drinking bottled love now)

__________________________________________

(You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness

You just needed to find a way to talk to it)

[jetaloen]

oooh not sure if this has been asked but does rohan have a pkmn team if any? does any one of them stand out as a partner pkmn to him the most?

OOOOH and how would they act with volo’s team (either just battling or like resting with them)

idk why this image is so grainy lol hopefully u can still read it. rohan's team!

yanmega (timmy) is his partner pkmn that rohan has had since childhood. they're best friends.

scolipede and centiskorch are the next two staples of his team, which he raised from eggs. they are both girls and very close. they're hardy pkmn that assisted rohan (so did timmy) during campaigns for his daimyo. i imagine scolipede as a steed and centiskorch using its fire attacks to destroy battlements/fight enemies and shit. and timmy just bites ppls heads off

kingambit is his next mon, which was prob a gift from his daimyo. kingambits name is brother calm lol

rohan meets flygon as a vibrava while he and his father are traveling between regions to escape the enemy forces pursuing them in kanto, and meets golisopod as a wimpod on the boat traveling to hisui.

rohan loves the challenge of training violent-tempered pokemon, and favors bug types. he liked studying pkmn in his home region, which is what leads him to be put on the survey team when he comes to jubilife.

as far as how they get along w volo's mons, i don't think their two teams actually come into contact much. this will prob turn into a somewhat unrelated ramble lol:

rohan does not mind sharing his space w his pkmn bc they are like family to him. especially when he is living at the temple and has more space, his pokemon are all kept out of the ball and have different areas around the temple/wide area around it where they like to chill, sometimes coming inside if its like rainy or storming etc.

that is very different from volo's philosophy. volo's team is either in the ball 24/7 or somewhere extremely far away and like summoned by his mental batman signal lmfao. he forces his pokemon to stay away from him, because lonely as he is, if anything stays around volo long enough it threatens the untouchable, focused front he's honed all these years and stands to distract him from his goal. he's very, very lonely. of course, he never admits this to himself or anyone else, but some of his pokemon can sense it.

while rohan is a really impressive trainer, volo is a true pokemon master. that's not to say volo can truly bond with them. he's emotionally stunted and incapable of that. he is, however, incredibly intelligent and well-read on what pokemon need for growth and evolution, and capable of faking his way through friendship evos bc his INTEREST is powerful enough to convince even his most emotionally sensitive pokemon. though volo feels indifferent, pokemon really like him and are drawn to him. in my canon, the togepi volo uses at the beginning is not the same as the togekiss he uses in the end, but mayb ill share more on that later lol ^^" bc this is hella long

[animehouse-moe]

Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2 Episode 3: Hidden Inventory 3

I'll be the first to say it, this episode is markedly better than the prior two. It's better in quite a few different ways, though is still peppered with quite a few complaints. Would I say that things are looking up? Probably not, no. Would I say there's a chance at this adaptation getting better as we go on? Quite possibly, yes. It's a very weird spot, but this episode does well almost because it doesn't try to be Jujutsu Kaisen, rather it tries to move as far away from it as it can, and it's in the pieces that are central to JJK that you understand something is wrong. Confusing yes, but hopefully I can break down my thoughts into more detail with this post.

I like to call what I've just described the "Tanya The Evil Effect". It's an aspect where the depiction of a story and its events ends up so far deviated in tone and experience, that when under good direction and work you can still value and appreciate it as something disparate from the source material.

The episode director isn't in over their head this episode, Gosso isn't hamfisting excessive and incoherent direction into the content at large, there's just a lot of stuff that greatly divorces this episode from Gosso's vision at large, and is part of why it remains successful.

I still think there's things that are silly and pointless changes for the sake of cutting corners, like this sequence of Kuroi and Geto talking where they're static in the anime vs in motion in the manga. It's just one of those simple things that provides context and agency to the situation. Why would Geto and Kuroi be standing still if Amanai is in danger?

If you take a closer look at the episode, it's actually quite odd. There's a lot of direction that's bog standard, just characters in frame standing still. But then you get random bursts of direction that are surprisingly solid, like this piece of Amanai behind the fence/bars, symbolizing her isolation and feeling of being prisoner to her role as the Star Plasma Vessel. Arguably one of the only scenes that makes proper use of the change of scenery from the rooftop rendezvous of the manga.

Anyways, onto Okinawa. I'm disappointed, but also surprised. Incredibly sad to not see Gojo's summer hairstyle on display, but I also feel like with a lot of these scenes, this is the closest we'll manage to S1/manga humor parity.

Alright, back into disappointment mode. Very sad that they didn't include this pose/panel for Haibara and Nanami. Why don't we just continue to strip the characterization and style of this cast more, MAPPA? Also, poor Haibara man. Nanami's already a lost cause sadly, but I at least had a bit of hope for Haibara in spite of the early showings of their character design. Even worse than I was expecting to be honest. The energy and slightly goofy nature just does not exist within him in the anime.

Have to shout out my boy Asta/Tadano though. Love seeing Gakuto Kajiawara getting more and more VA roles.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Okinawa. This is now a drama anime, plain and simple. The framing/layouts/etc are all very much drama leaning, and it's well done. It's just that compared to what the manga offers.... it's, well, decidedly not it. Also, unsure why, but random scenes in the episode are very low-res? I know Tumblr compression does not help at all, but this scene in particular is incredibly grainy and odd. There's also something wrong here in how dull Gojo and Geto's colors are in the shade compared to how vibrant the scene is in the light. I wouldn't call it bad compositing, but the color design doesn't feel quite right. I mean, the second image is of them in the exact same spot under the shade, but it looks so much better? The environment art is sharper in their vicinity, the character designs are more detailed, there's proper shading, and the colors seem way more accurate/realistic.

Maybe I've just gotten used to the poor compositing/coloring of the series to be honest, because at first glance I didn't actually think it was as inconsistent as I'm finding it to be.

Also, shoutout MAPPA hating on Geto again man. This dude is just stepped all over through these episodes and it hurts me so much. His expressiveness is totally stripped away from him and replaced with some hollow smile that I'm sure anime onlies can even tell carries no weight. Like please tell me, who are these two people in the anime??? It just hurts, and it's the tip of the iceberg for the issues with faces and expressions.

Personally speaking, I think this one is the biggest failure from MAPPA. They literally did this exact defeated smile Geto loves to wear in JJK 0, and they can't repeat it for S2? It's just so painful to see them totally mismanage the characters despite having simpler designs so they can "be more expressive".

That's enough bemoaning what's happened to poor Geto, allow me to return to why this episode is actually better (though it only really borders on good) than the prior ones: that drama feel. They extend what's displayed in the manga of Amanai and co's Okinawa trip, and it's pretty well done. I'd say as a manga reader though? I don't really care, and I don't think it adds a great deal to the experience in the first place with how they chose to add things. The scenes are pretty and some of the best displayed in the episode though, of course. The good old MAPPA special of placing insane effort into original pieces while giving the source material the cold shoulder.

Okay, one little piece of criticism (though it's actually sorta big). MAPPA just can't keep their little paws off of messing up characters for some reason. It's a simple thing, I know, but it's also why I'm complaining about it. There was no need. No need to have Amanai place her hands behind her back, to do something that her character never did even once in the manga. But they do, and it changes the tone of Amanai simply walking through an aquarium, to Amanai placing more thought in the experience. A very frustrating and needless change that weighs down the actual potential displayed in the sequence at large.

Anyways, what makes this piece of the original adaptation good? Well, the use of the symbolism of fish was already strong in the manga thanks to Gege, as its used to further show Amanai's isolation and the lack of a group that she can exist alongside/be with. That part remains clear in the anime thankfully. The piece that adds to it though is the parallel between the aquarium and its customers. They place the idea of Amanai's isolation compared to the fish on top of the people visiting the aquarium. Sounds a little odd maybe but I'm bad at explaining, but the point is to show the isolation Amanai feels from seeing the fish (and whales) in the aquarium as a palpable and noticeable thing that she actively experiences.

Of course, I'm not without complaints, but I feel like it's easier to let it slide if you don't look deeply at this sequence. If you see it as something untethered to Amanai's character, the weird extra cuts of the fish swimming freely in the aquarium is fine, but putting it alongside the context of Amanai's character it's pretty confusing and excessive. Why spend all that time fixating on the movements of the fish trapped in an aquarium, relegated to their current fate? Feels like a tone deaf movement for some odd pursuit of artistry that neglects the function of the sequence.

Alright, on to the next butchered character/sequence! Toji and Gojo. Man, I knew what to expect considering they showed viewers as much of the "good" stuff as they could, but I didn't think it was going to get this weak.

I knew Toji was going to suffer, but I mean, how different can you really get and still call it the same character? What a weird shit-eating grin in the anime versus the far more creepy and naturally twisted smirk that rests on Toji's face. It's just incredibly bothersome to see them fail so miserably with reactions that are so important to characters.

And I mean, they do it again, and again, and again. The whole flashback sequence is meant to be played off like horror, and up until the reveal is well done. It's got tension, a cheesy horror soundtrack. It's got the potential to actually do something with the appeal it's aiming for, but it ultimately fails because what is Toji's reaction here? It's supposed to be the thing that he fears/despises/disgusts, but all that shows on his face is plain surprise? Compare that to the manga, and you see how flat and lifeless this reaction is.

Okay okay last one before I move on. What kind of pose is this? He's so relaxed and standing like he's already superior to Gojo, like he knows he could win effortlessly. It is absolutely not the pose and expression of a man set to go up against arguably the most feared sorcerer of his time.

Anyways, action and stuff. I don't think it's terrible. As I'd already established though it's not JJK action. It takes well done choreography and layouts, and reduces it to flashy cuts that viewers can barely piece together in time. What's more worth talking about is how dim and over processed the sequences are. They just end up looking so out of place no matter what MAPPA tries to do. Also man, the S2 OST really does stink. Even in a tense action sequence there's just zero heart in it. Such a massive flop compared to the electric work on S1 and 0.

Okay, yes, Keiichirou Watanabe's animation for Gojo's Blue is well done. But, if the camera wasn't having a seizure I'm sure it would be better received. Of course, same issues in regards to the prior statement about action with the dimming and over processing too. Wastes a lot of potential that the cut had to be a genuinely great piece of animation in the context of JJK. It still undeniably is, beneath all of the additional oddities that bury it, but it's pretty far removed from JJK.

If you want to understand what I'm saying, take a look at Hanami vs Yuji and Todo (Watanabe did the cut of Hanami's massive branch attack). Yes, the compositing is better for Gojo's blue, but take a look at the camera work. How much effort it places into keeping the duo in frame, how hard it tries to keep things cohesive and easy to follow. It's a night and day difference that shows the importance of a director in delivering the best version of someone's animation.

Anyways, here's Gojo's Blue sequence, as a video. Too long to make into a reasonable quality gif, and also insanely flashy and all over the place so nicer than having seizure material auto-play in two places at once.

Alright, so uh, Gojo dies, Toji pulls up with the gat and domes Amanai right in front of Geto, following it up by announcing that he killed Gojo. And then the episode ends. Honestly? I loved the ending just cause I know it'll cause so much chaos for viewers.

The episode overall though? It's weird that I think it noticeably better than the prior two when I've complained about so much, but maybe it's one of those things where the closer you get to being correct, the more faults you find in the thing being examined. Regardless, it feels like Toji's been incredibly nerfed from a viewer's perspective compared to the manga (alongside Geto and plenty of others), and honestly I had next to no hype for their actual sequence because it all felt so disjointed. The pacing of it felt off, and the action just didn't grab me with it's super flashy, highly processed, up close and personal so you can't quite tell what's going on combat. I'd say it's still a flop compared to what S1 would offer in comparison for big moments, but it's also done better on average when compared to the prior two episodes.

Pacing is of massive concern now though. We're three episodes in, with a total of five. It took us three episodes to make 8 chapters total, and we've got 6 though more likely 7 chapters of content left to cover for this arc, with only 2 episodes remaining. "Oh that's not too bad", except for the fact that there's the massive upcoming fight alongside us still having to get through Toji vs Geto. Even with the 6 instead of 7 chapters, even if they don't add any original content, they're speed-running at a minimum of 3 chapters for the last two episodes, which is pretty damn bold.

Is Hidden Inventory/Gojo's Past going to hold on and make it to the end in its current state, or will it rush itself to an early grave? Next episode will certainly be the deciding factor, but whatever it is, I'm not exactly hopeful of where we're going to be left.

[minty-playhouse]

Alright, I promised a post with my favorite John + Roger photos and I'm a creature of my word (mostly)!

So sit back and let me take you on a journey through Daltwistle hyperfixation hah!

I'll try not to say anting too overtly nsfw about them, but I can't guarantee this post won't be suggestive free, so be advised!

This is one of the OG photos that I like! I dunno what it is about it, I just like the very casual energy it evokes. And I'm also a big sucker for John wearing big coats so that's a huge bonus! But be careful of charming guys that make you laugh, girls 👀

SLEAZY! LEWD!!! I dunno what is it about this photo that wakes something really feral and primal in me lol Maybe it's because the photo is super grainy so it makes everything look far "dirtier" than it really is. Also their faces, specially John's, makes me think that they know something we don't (aka the fact they are 100% banging when they're finally alone). But yeah they're dirty and disgusting and I love this photo too much.

=consumes this photo= Where do I even begin? Roger is so Girl and John is so cool. I love Roger’s looks during the mod era, he's so soft and dainty. And this photo is a perfect example of that. Metal sheet worker my butt, he's a princess. And John is just the type of bad boy his type craves (but refuses to accept fufufu)

Uuuuuuugh this gives me the same feral vibes of that other one, BUT the difference in that this one REALLY emphasises their size difference like John is just so fucking big and thick, the size of his hips is insane. And that makes me think very evil thoughts when I think about Roger's short legs and how they can barely wrap around it fully 👀💦

All their mid 70's photos scream SEX but this one is ugh, it makes my brain go "brrrrrr" real good, like why is he just lying there next to John, and they're clearly in a house but whose house is this?? I dunno but I think the moment the photographers walk away John needs to get on top of Roger and kiss him good ❤️

THEM THEM THEM The toxic couple itself! I dunno why is it that my brain has very bad thoughts about these two specifically, and it's this photo that's on my brain whenever I think about the more, hm, "controversial" mod era ship thoughts for them. Also I know Roger is even shorter due to the photos perspective but, insane height dif. Gotta love it!

So hello this is the MOST POWERFUL DALTWISTLE IMAGE EVER?? I know this is cheating a bit because these are separate photos but it doesn't change the fact these were side by side on the getty image site, and that they're from the Tara photoshoot, AND that this feels like they are seeing each other from opposite sides of the backyard, with John spotting Roger as he smiles, not only for the photo but at him. And by God, Roger is just so gorgeous, he's hoping this photoshoot ends soon~

And this is it guys, a journey through thick and thin! Hope you guys enjoyed these crazy ramblings!

[thealogie]

--> Romeo anon, the finale. OK, your call :)) Last wise words from that redditor, just had to share and that's it: "most of the productions recorded during that time weren't produced with quality in mind. Theatre was (and still is) expensive to produce, and until recently recordings made during a production's run were usually made only for archival/preservation purposes to document a production's existence. They were not quality copies - most were shot from very far away and with usually one but maybe two fixed cameras. The result is predictable and difficult to watch or enjoy - clarity is awful and focus isn't stable, you can't see much, actors may walk in and out of frame, the audio is questionable - you name it.

I've seen Romeo and Juliet (as well as Loves Labours Lost, What The Butler Saw, The Pillowman, The Comedy Of Errors, The Herbal Bed, and Look Back In Anger) and all of these - with the possible exception of Look Back In Anger - suffer from most or all the above. If you want to see them, you can go to where they're archived and do so, but it's painfully clear why these have not, and will not, be commercially released"

Oh trust me I KNOW it’s not gonna be good and I know back then plays were only recorded for archival purposes but I also think it would be so funny to go to these archives and watch my little guy do some mid Shakespeare on a grainy VHS

[chriskhou]

[14]

I wish I could transcribe my feelings It would make all this so much easier I cannot sustain the production of indicative anecdote forever

I want to scream on paper to pour out my bile and hunger and regret my angers and reservations and embarrassments I want to rip it from myself Patch it onto the paper I write on Lest all my work becomes collections of letter clusters, nonsensical to myself though I'd know their implications

I want to tear out the way I felt when I saw the video taken of our first kiss How ham-fisted I looked, how stiff Nothing of me moved with nature as you snapped at me for complimenting you A mockery, you thought - What I was pointing out was the opposite of what you had I still feel the shame I want to make you feel it, too

Those pictures of yourself you gifted me Vain, but endearing How I gave them away When we first separated She wanted to burn them I just wanted them gone I'd been long perplexed by them Perhaps I was far too self-conscious Enthralled by the attention she was giving me Lying to myself, clearly

She would apologize Return them, head slightly bowed Voice apologetically inflected Now they serve no purpose They're here, somewhere Pockets of my old bag Grainy and dark Haven't looked at them in a long while

When you cried, tipsy Having made a mess of my hoodie Crying again, when I told you things should end You didn't cry, though, the second time around Not to my face, at least

Now, you still smile when you greet me I'd rather a violent outburst or direct insult but I'd prefer nothing Have you no shame?